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carnationworld-writings · 3 months ago

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The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife.

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford #tim bradford x you #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford fanfic #angela lopez #nyla harper #tw: pregnancy #tw: divorce #tw: childbirth

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ncttytrack · 1 year ago

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Orange blood - p.sh

Your naked body, exposed in front of him, was full of your life elixir, and if he wasn’t pathetic enough to love you, a human girl, he would’ve sucked the last drop you could offer.

Summary: You let Sunghoon use you as his personal blood bag during a full moon

Genre: SMUT, Vampire!Sungoon x reader

Words: 2,3k

Warnings: Blood kink (a lot of blood), Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!reader, Pain kink, Reader almost dying...

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When you first started dating Sunghoon, you didn’t know he was a vampire. Even though his smile revealed his sharp fangs, his minimal sunshine exposure and the way his skin would be completely cold and pale white, it never occurred to you that he was a vampire. You never believed in mythical creatures, even as a kid having trouble believing in fairies or mermaids.

When he became your boyfriend, it didn’t take long before you knew his secret. You remember it clearly, though it was only a month ago. You and Sunghoon had just become official, the first week being magical with romantic dinner dates and movie nights, all during night time. Sunghoon used to say that it was cozier at night, which was the reason why he rarely met you during the day even after becoming your partner. Suddenly, after the first week, he would go completely silent for a full day. You tried calling him multiple times but he never answered, and a mix of being scared that he was cheating on you, or that he was in danger, made you stalk your way to his home outside the city you were currently living in.

As you walk into his house, you hear painful screams from his bedroom. Sunghoons screams made you run as fast as you could to the room, breaking in to save him from whatever that was causing him this awful pain. When you opened the door, you were met with a horrendous sight. Sunghoon was chained up against the bed frame, which he so desperately tried to break away from. His body was sweaty, drenching his clothes til they were see through, and the veins on his arms and neck were popping out. His fangs had grown twice his regular size and his eyes were beat red, now wide open, looking at you. When he saw you, his screams and cries became louder, and it wouldn't take long before the chains fell apart by his strength. As one half of him wanted to rip you apart to shreds, sucking out the last drops of blood in your body because of his painful thirst, the other half wanted you to get the hell out of here. Away from someone as dangerous as him. As he screams to you to get away from him, to leave the house before he breaks the heavy chains, you finally do. Heavy breaths are coming from your mouth, as you run away from the person you love.

Before he could explain the day after why he was in a state like that, you connected the dots. As crazy as you first thought you were, you couldn't forget those sharp teeth and his glowing eyes. The full moon turning his thrust for blood to the max, especially yours, made you realize that Sunghoon was dangerous. Even more dangerous when you realized that you would never be able to leave him, everything about him drawing your pathetic human self in.

As the next full moon crept up, Sunghoon made sure to make you stay away from him. But you can’t handle knowing what he goes through. It must be so painful, not being able to quench the thirst he so desperately needed to. That’s why he thought you sounded crazy when you came up with an idea right before the full moon .

“No, absolutely not”, Sunghoon says with a stern voice, his arms across in front of his chest. You look up at him with pleading eyes, putting your hands on his arms trying to drag them down. “No, please, I want to”. His hands grab your shoulders, leaning down to look at you eye to eye. His grip is hard, making you wince. “Do you want to give me your blood during the next full moon? That's a horrible idea y/n! What if I hurt you”.

One of your hands grabs his, and you look deep into his brown eyes. His mouth is wide open, making you able to see his fangs, already being bigger than normal for the full moon. As your curiosity grows, your hand leaves his, bringing up your hand to his mouth. He looks at you with an amused expression as you make him gape wider so you can touch his sharp fangs. Your thumb graces over his sharp teeth, making him hiss at the feeling. “I don’t care” You say as your thumb presses up towards his fang, making it bleed in his mouth. When he tastes your sweet blood on his tongue, it drives him crazy, making him grab your wrist to pull your bleeding thumb away. He gulps, looking at the red blood sliding down your thumb, reluctantly licking it up with his pink tongue. He looks down at you with heavy breaths, his cock twitching when seeing your gaping mouth at the feeling of his mouth sucking your bloody finger. He pulls away from you, walking away, not being able to handle the growing feeling in his chest. This was the first time he tasted you, but by the looks of it, it certainly wasn’t the last.

As the night came closer and closer, the moon became brighter and brighter, making Sunghoons thirst for you almost unbearable. You managed to pursue him, now sitting on his bed, wearing nothing, your skin completely exposed for Sunghoon to bite into. “Are you really ready for this y/n?” The moon shines through the window, shining light upon the two of you. He looked so beautiful, already glistening with sweat from his temptation. He examines you. Apart from him, your skin is full of life, your cheeks are red and so are your lips. Full of blood, your sweet blood that he so desperately wants to consume. Your naked body, exposed in front of him, was full of your life elixir, and if he wasn’t pathetic enough to love you, a human girl, he would’ve sucked the last drop you could offer.

You nod your head, giving him permission to taste you, to completely take over you. One of his hands comes in contact with your shoulder, as the other grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck. He can hear your heart beating faster and faster, which makes his thirst grow bigger and bigger. You were scared. He tries to be as calm as possible when he leans down towards your neck, close to your skin. He can smell your scent, making him gulp down the saliva forming in his mouth. What if he is unable to pull away, killing his beautiful saint of a girlfriend. The sweat is sliding down his forehead, he needs to taste your warm skin.

He began to lick your neck, feeling your tasty skin against his taste buds. The tip of his tongue licks a special spot, making you let out a small moan out of pleasure. As he hears your moan he can’t take it anymore. His sharp fangs come in contact with your skin, piercing through painfully slow, making you arch your back into Sunghoon, letting out a scream from the pain. Your hands rests on his shoulders for support, feeling secure in his vicinity. When he can fully taste your thick, sugary, blood in his mouth, he lets out a moan against your skin. Your blood tastes like sweet hot chocolate, mixed with savory oranges. He has never tasted something as sweet as you, and he doesn't know if he will be able to stop.

As his bite intensifies, so does his touch. His hands have now left your hair and shoulder, digging his filed nails into your waist. The way he pushes his nails into your skin could possibly make you bleed, and you try to handle the arousal the touch gives you. He can’t stop tasting you, and when he feels your body losing strength, making you lean more into him, he forcefully pushes himself away from you. He seems to have hit a larger artery, since you can’t stop bleeding from where he bit you. His blood glides down between your boobs, down your stomach, to your already naked core. The bleeding intensifies, and by using your hands the blood is smeared out nearly all over your body, the warm liquid painting you red.

Your body falls down on the bed, as Sunghoon hovers over you. Your skin is losing its beautiful, lifeful, color, and you grow paler with every second. What surprised you however, is how amazing it felt being bitten, making your thighs clench together when remembering the sting. Sunghoon notices this, biting his lips at the sight. “Why did you stop Hoonie?” Sunghoon can’t think clearly. His beautiful girlfriend is under him, blood smeared all over your body making you look like his personal meal for him to enjoy. He looked at the place he bit you, blood streaming down from the wound that he so wished to taste again. But he can’t bite you again, you would definitely die if he did. But he needs to taste you, to make you feel good using his fangs. “You’re too cute baby”

He leans down to kiss you passionately, his fangs making you bleed in your mouth. The more he can taste the liquid, the darker, and redder his eyes appear. The lust for you, and the desperate need to take over all of you grows inside him. When his hands come in contact with your waist for stability during the heated kiss, he feels how wet your skin is from the blood, making it almost difficult for him to hold on to your slippery body.

You feel lightheaded, almost passing out, when Sunghoon begins to kiss you from your lips, down to your neck and to your stomach. His tongue licks up your thick blood covering you, licking you clean, quenching his thirst. His tongue slides down your stomach, down to your core, licking up as much blood as possible. As his mouth comes in contact with your pussy, you let out a crying moan out of pleasure. Your hand comes in contact with his hair, wanting him to continue to pleasure you with his mouth. He does so, making out with your pussy, tasting the mix of your juices and your blood.

The flavor and your sweet moans makes him want to shove his tongue into your hole deeper, digging his nails into your thighs to keep you from closing them. “Fuck, baby you taste so good.” You feel the way his tongue comes in contact with your swollen clit sucking on it harshly, making the only sound leaving your lips being your moans and his name, chanting it over and over again the closer you get.

As you are about to cum, Sunghoon pulls away from you. Before you can complain, he pulls out his massive cock, leaking with preecum, and shoves it into you. He wastes no time waiting for you to adjust, ramming into you with inhuman speed. He tries not to cum when looking at you. Your hair is messy, and your makeup is completely ruined from all your crying. The wound is still leaking, still painting your body red with your blood. The scent of your sweet blood is filling his nostrils, making him needier, thirstier, and stronger. The way that you just lay there, letting him take over you, to completely ruin your sweet innocence. Not only that, but the way you love it drives him to complete insanity. Screaming his name, moaning from both pleasure and pain, from the wound, the sting, but also from the warmth that fills your body.

“Fuck y/n, you shoul’dve never let me do this, I’m compleatly ruining you” You don’t care. It’s almost scary how hot he is. His fangs are completely out, exposed by his open mouth letting out painful moans, and his jet-black hair is glued to his forehead because of the sweat. His lips are swollen and red from your blood, and from all the close contact with you, his body is smeared in your own blood, all the way from his mouth to his lower stomach. You always knew he looked gorgeous in red, but this look was on a whole other level. And his eyes. His eyes were glowing in the semi-dark room, truly making him look like the predator he truly is.

He knows he is about to cum, pounding deeper and harder into your now sore pussy. “Have to taste you again baby”. As he gets closer, he leans down to your neck, sucking on the open wound without piercing your skin, getting a final taste. The taste of your sweet orange-chocolate flavored blood, drives him to the edge, filling you up with his cum. His tired, heavy body leans down on yours, having to use all the strength he has to not crush your fragile figure. He loves the feeling of your pussy, the last thing he wants to do is to pull away his cock from your warm hole, hugging him just right.

But as he can feel your pulse drop, he begins to panic and pulls his cock out of you. His drawer, being prepared if his darkest fantasies ever came to life, was full of cranberry juice. He quickly hands you the juice, seeing your weak hands grabbing it, trying not to drop it. He holds it for you, seeing how you suck up all the liquid, before taking another box. When looking at you like this, sucking the juice he holds, covered in your blood he so desires, looking up at him with the sweetest smile as if he didn’t almost kill you, he knew.

He knew he was absolutely in love with you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

This fic is for everyone that voter for vampire Sunghoon 🩸💋

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen hyung line #enhypen imagines #sunghoon smut #enha smut #Sunghoon #park Sunghoon #enhypen hard thoughts

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cno-inbminor · 8 days ago

Text

praestigia

NOTE: this is the completed version of the fic, including part 1. some minor edits have been made to part 1, but that's about it. once again, thanks sylus for being my first lads fic! as always, much love to spence for bullying me into finishing this

plot: formally speaking, sylus is a...sponsor. more colloquially, he's your sugar daddy -- and you're starting to wonder if he might actually want more. (wc: ~13.1k)

cw: this is all AU and does not include, like, any game lore (aside from that it's happening in linkon city). afab!reader, also a phd student, toxic behavior [miscommunication], explicit smut [dom/sub dynamics, slight bondage, underwear as a gag, size kink if you squint, fingering, some degradation, possessiveness, squirting, overstimulation, some choking, no protection aside from implied birth control], angst, some fluff, open ending. mdni!

[ao3]

The skyline of Linkon City never fails to captivate you, blinking lights of tall, corporate buildings, the specks of light dotted across the sky, the blur of beams weaving through the roads – no matter which angle you look at it from, the view will inevitably take reign over your focus. So much so, that you do not notice the imposing figure approaching you from behind. He can only draw your attention by placing both hands on your shoulders, jumping slightly as you blink and remember where you are. A wave of flashbacks crashes through your mind as you are gently turned towards him, your back facing the window now.

“Perhaps I should find it somewhat offensive that the view never fails to take your attention away,” Sylus remarks, his tone unmasked in his teasing and playfulness. His scarlet eyes peer past your shoulder to see if there was anything interesting or out of the ordinary. “Do I need to start booking rooms without windows?”

“Don’t be silly,” you gently admonish, moving past him to grab a drink of water. His eyes burn the skin on your back, though you are familiar with this gaze. “Thank you for letting me rest here.”

“Do you really think that after all this time, I would leave you to pay for a hotel room yourself? Or to find your own transportation home?”

“It’d be understandable. I can see where you would be coming from if you made those requests.”

“I must say, I am a little wounded, kitten,” he drawls in mock pain. Instead of waiting for you to return and remain close to him, he situates himself on the bed first and leaves ample room for you to lay next to him.

The gesture invokes warmth, exudes comfort, and stands familiar as you climb onto the mattress with ease and memory. Sylus stretches out his arm next to you, and his pose quietly begs for you to cuddle into him.

And so you do. Sylus’s stature and frame, of course, never fails to envelop you during these moments of tranquility. Your chest pressed against his side, a leg crossed over his, your nails drawing patterns over his bathrobe and exposed abdomen – security, strength, and affection, once again, never fails to help you relax.

Because this is what happens after every gala, every fundraiser, every grand opening, every social event that you accompany Sylus to. This routine of being in hotel rooms so high above ground with breathtaking views, burrowing into him, oftentimes burying himself inside you, and separating the next morning with an implicit understanding of exactly where you stand, is what you two had agreed upon all those months ago. And in return, your financial stress disappears into thin air, leaving you to study and engage in hobbies without such a heavy burden on your shoulders.

Despite his constant reassurances that he can clean up whatever mess you may end up making, they do not negate just how tiring and draining these events end up being. Constantly putting on airs, overexposing your practiced smiles, making sure that there is not a single hair out of place, switching to what you like to call “fancy people table etiquette” – Sylus sponsored and, in a way, hired you to be as close to perfect as possible, and so, you must do as such to uphold your end of this business relation. Tonight has been a little more taxing than usual, as somewhere along the way, he felt the need to buy you anything that captured your attention for more than a few seconds. He would bid a ridiculous price that would dissuade any other potential customers, their expressions of defeat when they pass by causing him to secretly gloat that everyone has learned at least one thing about him: he will get what he wants.

You had caught onto this shenanigan after the third item, and you made sure to school your gaze away from the auctioned items. But because he always seems to know what plays in your mind, he complains, “You never let or ask me to buy you things anymore.”

Your eyes had closed shut during your time of reflecting on tonight’s events, and they continue to remain as such. “I have very little closet space. At this point, I think I’ve probably swapped out 90% of my wardrobe because of you. People are starting to get suspicious.”

“Then why not move out and find a bigger apartment? You know I can afford it.”

“Sylus–”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts. If he were anyone else, you would have scowled at him. “It would be too far from campus, become inconvenient, and you feel it is too much to ask for.”

As the conversation suggests, this is not the first time Sylus has brought up this proposition. What remains unsaid is how you would be closer to his residence if you were to move to one of the many apartments he had in mind, all of which would reduce your commute to his place down to walking a block or two; not a twenty-minute drive.

“Just say the word, and it will be done,” Sylus murmurs into your hair. When he realizes he has received no response, your soft snoring greets him before he can inquire any further. With a heavy sigh, he reaches out and switches the nightstand light off, leaving the darkness to swallow you both. His eyes fall shut in tired ease, but his grip around your shoulders remains firm.

It comes to no one’s surprise that you feel less than well-rested when your alarm starts blaring at 5:45AM. You had an early class today, so you had to give yourself ample time to make it home, change, wipe away any lingering smudges of last night’s makeup, and try to appear as…casual as possible. Not wanting to wake him up so much that he cannot fall back asleep, you reach out for your phone and click one of the volume buttons, rendering it silent. Sometime in the night, your position had changed to Sylus spooning you. His limb slung over your waist is heavy, making it all that more difficult to leave – not just physically, but mentally as well.

Like ripping a bandaid off, you have every intention to quickly remove yourself from his embrace. But Sylus, being the infuriatingly light sleeper that he is, immediately tightens his hold around you as soon as you attempt your escape.

“Sylus, I need to go,” you whisper.

He presses you impossibly closer to him. “I will drive you to your apartment. Sleep.”

“No, I’m taking the subway.”

“Why take the subway when you have me?”

“If anyone needs rest, it’s you,” you say pointedly, because it’s true. Being the CEO of a business that may or may not be totally legal (you never ask because honestly, the less you know, the better) is not exactly a 9AM-5PM job. There have been more times than you can count when he would be pounding into you and forced to take a phone call. Granted, that doesn’t stop him from grinding into you and grinning devilishly when you bury your face into the nearest pillow to muffle your moans and whines.

“Speak for yourself,” he grumbles into your hair. “You haven’t gotten more than six hours of sleep every night for the last week.”

“And how exactly do you know this?” As soon as you ask, you already know the answer.

The app for– “Your smartwatch.”

“One of these days, I will disconnect my account from that app.”

“I would like to see you try.”

And you will. Just, when you’re not trapped in his arms.

“I’m still taking the subway,” you backtrack, though your voice is quieter than before. A tiny sense of relief fills you when his embrace loosens, and you can finally crawl out of bed. It’s harder than it seems to squash the distressed voice in your head complaining about how easy it was for him to let you go. As you pick up all your clothes and make your way towards the bathroom, you notice his phone sitting innocently by the room’s coffee machine. After looking over your shoulder, you swipe it off the counter and bring it with you.

Guessing his passcode is harder than you thought – the man has an ego the size of the entire universe, so you figure it would be something personal: his inaugural date as CEO, his birth year, his birthday, or others. On your last, desperate attempt, you type in four digits and find yourself absolutely floored at the view of his, now, unlocked phone.

Your birthday.

There is no time to dwell on the implications of it all, and you chalk it up to the fact that no one really knows you outside of being his typical date or escort. Therefore, the passcode would be that much harder to guess than the route that you had originally gone for. Yes, that’s all it was: an extra layer of security.

Sylus’s phone is surprisingly unorganized, random apps thrown into folders that they do not belong in, leaving you to search for the fitness app that your watch is not only connected to on your own phone, but somehow also on his. You press the buttons necessary to delete your watch data from his end. When you are ready to close the app, you cannot help but notice the preview of his messages app and the texts within. Your thumb swipes away the fitness app and shakily taps the messages window that stares hauntingly at you. It had been left open on a conversation with another woman, if you had to guess based on the name sitting at the top.

My parents are getting antsy, and so is your grandfather.

That is none of my concern.

Unfortunately, it is. They’re not exactly happy about the woman you keep bringing as a partner.

Our arranged marriage is not a publicly known detail.

And I’d like to keep it that way. But Sylus…

What?

We can’t delay this much longer. You’re running out of time.

The exchange tells you enough, just enough for you to realize the situation you find yourself in. You suddenly recall an incident in the beginning of this relationship with Sylus when he described this arrangement, him as your sugar daddy, as a means to an end, preferably the end of something that he clearly did not want out of desire for his own freedom. There was not enough detail for you to give it much thought after that night of discussion and negotiation, but now, it all makes sense.

Your thumb takes it back to his home screen and presses the lock button. In a haze, you get ready and dressed before exiting the bathroom, completely unaware if you even have your clothes on right or your hair somewhat kempt. As quietly as possible, you place his phone back where you had found it. Though common practice at this point, it now feels far too intimate to plant a featherlight kiss on his cheek. It causes him to stir, but you’re halfway out the door before he can fully register your departure.

Whoever passes by, whatever zooms past, however something tries to gain your attention, you have no recognition of your surroundings. A thick layer of tension settles itself into your brain, allowing you to think of nothing but the fact that this entire time, Sylus has been in an arranged marriage that you, apparently, were supposed to be instrumental in destroying. To find yourself back in your apartment maybe forty minutes later is a miracle in and of itself. You return to the plane of reality when you open your closet doors to toss your dirty clothes into the hamper and are greeted by the many items bought with his money.

Contrary to popular belief, jealousy does not make itself known in your system. You’re not exuding shades of green or red like an angry Christmas tree. If anything, you come to a quiet acceptance that this…partnership with Sylus will come to an end, and soon. It would do no good for him to keep seeing or supporting you while formally married, which means you have to get your life in order. Sylus has given you more than enough money to put you through your last two years of your postgraduate career and maybe a year into your postdoc, but you should still remain frugal. If you’re lucky enough, the money you earn during postdoc would be enough to live relatively comfortably on.

Alone. Without him.

It’s fine, you think to yourself as you turn on the shower. It’s totally and completely fine.

A couple hours later in class, your phone vibrates with a message that reads, “You actually managed to disconnect your watch from my phone.”

The slight smirk tugging at your lips is inevitable as you type out a response: You told me to try, so I did.

“I will be changing my passcode.”

If you want. There’s nothing else on there that I need to delete, right?

“Oh sweetie, wouldn’t you like to know?”

The subtle, possessive curl of his message coils around you tenderly, making you temporarily forget that you are in class and should be exhibiting a poker face. But you still shift in your seat, a warm pool of heat forming in your core as you imagine his expression and his voice reading the message out loud. Forever a tease and a flirt, Sylus knows exactly what he is doing by sending you that message.

Your best revenge in the moment is to leave him on read, on the edge of his metaphorical seat. It takes too much effort to bring your conscience back to your current lecture and actually take some notes. Your phone buzzes once, but you ignore it – and in hindsight, you’re glad you did. Sylus, in all his infinite wisdom and glory, took it upon himself to send you a picture of himself after a shower – the skin of his chest glistening under the fluorescent lights, grey towel hung low on his waist and barely holding on, veins on his arms frustratingly visible because he knows what they do to you, his biceps flexed just enough that you want to take a bite at them. The fucker full well knew you were in class and, you know, in relatively close proximity to other people who would have, no doubt, gotten an eyeful.

As you walk towards the subway station to go back to your apartment, head down and focused on typing out a message, a giddy smile can’t help but break out across your face. Your thumbs tap, “Should you really be sending photos like this to someone who, in the public’s eye, is just a friendly escort?”

After not even thirty seconds, your phone buzzes, the notification of his call sliding in from the top of your screen. You almost roll your eyes as you bring the device to your ear. “You have five minutes before I lose signal underground,” you warn, your tone still playful nevertheless.

“‘A friendly escort’, you say? I suppose that’s what the young ones are calling intimacy these days.”

“You knew I was in class. And stop it, I know you have some stupid smug look on your face right now,” you chastise.

“You know me so well.”

“Actually, speaking of,” you say as your eyes flit down to your watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

“I stepped out.”

Your heart and feet skip a beat, almost causing you to fall flat on your face and absolutely eat shit in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s hard not to let your mind race at all the implications, that this tirelessly busy man decided in a heartbeat that he would step out with a desire to call you over something so minor; to do no more than simply tease you. In the grand scheme of his life, you have very little significance – your temporary companionship where you may see him four or five times a month, sometimes with weeks in between and other times mere days. Text messages were never a guaranteed daily activity, though as of recent, he has been texting you more often. But amidst his employees, his connections, his partnerships, his family, you’re just…you.

You didn’t realize you had been stunned into silence long enough for him to ask, “Are you still there?”

“I am, sorry,” you apologize, scrambling to think of an excuse. “Uhh, an email came in and I was reading it. Didn’t hear you.”

“I’ll get you some wireless earbuds.”

“Please don’t.” Your rejection is immediate, firm. The lack of room left for argument stands apparent. “That’s not necessary.”

“And what’s stopping me from just ordering you a pair regardless?”

“Me.”

Sylus responds with a contemplative pause, which is...unusual. He has always been so quick to reply with wit and banter, but there is a chance that maybe something distracted him, like what you had said as a poor attempt at a viable excuse.

“I suppose the kitten is starting to make use of her claws now.” His voice rings softer, quieter, almost as if disheartened by his own statement. “First you disconnect your watch, and now you won’t even let me buy you earbuds.”

“I just don’t want you to buy anything that’s not necessary. Covering my tuition and all the dresses is one thing, but wireless earbuds, I can do without. My wired ones work just fine.”

Your eyes catch the sign for the stairs leading down to the subway up ahead. “I’m about to go under and lose signal. Was there anything else?”

“Come over tonight.”

Your mouth works faster than your brain. “I can’t,” you lie, a pang of guilt creeping into your heart. “There’s a study group tonight for an exam.” Not a lie. “Besides, we just saw each other yesterday.”

“Has that ever stopped us before?”

“W-well, no,” you splutter because it’s true. There have been a handful of times when you spent two, sometimes three consecutive nights in the past – but things were more hot-and-heavy then, a time when you couldn’t get enough of him and vice versa. “I’m just saying.”

“Then come after the study group.”

“It’s gonna run pretty late because we have an exam in a few days.” Again, not a lie. “Who knows if the subways would still be running by then?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“But you might be asleep.”

“Highly unlikely, little one.”

Quickly looking around you, you quietly hiss, “Sylus, you should be asleep by the time the subways stop running. Why would you still be up at 2AM?”

“In case I have to refresh your memory, you do remember that I am the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in Linkon, right? The work never ends.”

“You need time for sleep, you know, like everyone else??”

“I’m not like everyone else.”

Your eyes close in frustration as you groan. Your feet have reached the top of the stairs, and you couldn’t have asked for more perfect timing. “Okay, I’m at the station so I’m gonna hang up. I’ll come over another time, alright? Talk to you later.”

“Sweetie–”

Moving forward to race down the stairs and smashing the hang up button is your way of desperately trying to not lose resolve. Any longer, you would have given in and rolled yourself straight back to square one with nothing but dread. You have never been more relieved to see the little “No Signal” sitting in the top left corner while you swipe through a gate and manage to get down another flight of stairs without tripping over your feet.

Wired earbuds in, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie, letting the wind tunnel threaten you to topple over, you do everything in your ability to not think about him – to not think about the messages that may flood your phone once you get signal, to not think about the pushback you may receive because Sylus is someone who figures out to, somehow, always get his way, and to not think about the weight of his earlier words: “I stepped out.” You pretend that you know nothing about this arranged marriage, the curiosity having caused your thumbs to twitch in anticipation at maybe looking up who this woman is. You ignore the now glaringly close deadline that will terminate your relationship with Sylus forever, and most of all, you ignore any semblance of pain that knowledge makes you feel.

Cup half-empty, spoons tossed the window, the subway window across from you is greeted with a blank stare. In a rare moment of mindfulness (or is it dissociation?), you think of nothing until you find yourself standing by the foot of your bed and ready to face plant into the middle of the duvet. With your last shred of working consciousness, you set an alarm for thirty minutes before the start of the study group and promptly fall asleep.

As you predicted, the study group runs late into the night. Despite the several digressions into conversations that were very much not academics-related, all of you feel relatively good about the subject matter for the exam on Friday. Everyone comes to a unanimous decision to reconvene in a couple of days. Given that it was Monday, one more study session Wednesday and some independent review Thursday night would be beneficial.

For your own sanity, you had left your phone, stashed in the recesses of your backpack, tossed into the corner of the study room, on do-not-disturb for the entirety of the night. You had it programmed to still chime and alert you if family contacted you, mainly because it doesn’t happen often, and if it does, that means something big happened. The device remained silent for the whole time, and part of you wants to avoid confronting what your notification screen might look like. But before you can muster up the courage to do so, one of your friends speaks up.

“Hey, you took the subway here, right? I can drive you home,” Jiho, a doctoral student in the same year as you but doing research under a different professor, offers. A part of you is beyond relieved at the perfect example of an excuse to not check your phone because it would be so incredibly rude (not really) in a social context.

“You wouldn’t mind? If you have somewhere to be, I can just walk.”

Jiho rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “Come on, before I change my mind.”

He drops you off in front of your apartment complex about ten minutes later, and he shoos away your offer to buy him coffee as a token of gratitude. You wave goodbye as his car pulls out of a guest parking spot, and only then do you notice the conspicuously sleek, grey sports car sitting a few meters away. Your heart pounds, and your palms begin to sweat as you get closer and closer to your unit, afraid of who you might find once you get inside. You spot the fluorescent glow from underneath peering out from underneath your door, and it takes everything in you to not drop your keys as you unlock the deadbolt.

“So the kitten has finally decided to come home.”

“How–”

Sylus, looking severely out of place in your humble abode, sets down the stack of papers in his hand on your coffee table. With his other hand, he points to the fixture on your wall by the door where your keys typically hang. His own set now occupies one of the hooks, and you spot the spare key you had given him a few months ago. To your knowledge, he has never used it before, and you can count the number of times he has stepped into this apartment on one hand.

You quietly shut the door behind you, locking both deadbolts in place before setting your backpack down. “It’s so late,” and even you wince at the shakiness in your voice. “You should be asleep. At home.”

“Perhaps I would be if someone had just checked their phone once in the last fifteen hours.”

Well, you don’t have much of an excuse for that.

Sylus sits on one end of your couch in loungewear, though somehow, he still makes it seem like he’s in something formal enough for business casual. You cautiously sit on the other end away from him.

“I passed out as soon as I got home, and then I was running late for the study group, so I just left my phone on do-not-disturb.”

His silence speaks volumes.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

But maybe you did.

Maybe, subconsciously, you did. Maybe you wanted to test the limits of his affection. Maybe you wanted to see just how far he would go to make sure you were okay.

Maybe you simply wanted to get a taste of when you least expect radio silence, an appetizer for how things may turn out when Sylus calls for the end of your arrangement.

“Look at me.”

Tension weighs you down as you slowly turn your body towards him, but you avoid his gaze and aim to study the logo on his shirt instead.

“Sweetie, look at me.”

The command snaps you into compliance, his tone firm and undeniable. You expect to see anger, frustration, disappointment. After all, it would make sense, for there is a set of expectations and rules put into place to ensure trust between both parties. Transactional, contractual, institutional obligations and conditions set by both the company matchmaker and individuals are put in place to conveniently manifest and quickly disintegrate these business relations, to avoid messes.

But you realize all too quickly that the mess will be inevitable, in your case, because instead of tinges of red fury in his eyes, you find concern, worry, and confusion. Dread sinks into your stomach like an anchor in the middle of the ocean, dropping further and further into the dark unknown.

“You’re hiding something from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately counter. Good job, you just made it more obvious.

Sylus pins you down with a look that means nothing other than “you know better”, and your heart threatens to burst from your chest out of sheer anxiety.

“Since you refuse to tell me otherwise, tell me how you got home,” he says, and though he may seem cool and nonchalant in the way he rests an arm against the back of the couch, you can see the irritation pulsing through the veins on his forearms.

“A friend from the study group drove me home.”

“And you were simply too busy to look at your phone during the drive?”

“I had to give him directions.”

Sylus cocks an eyebrow at the mention of this friend’s gender. “Him?”

“Jiho, sweet guy. Does research with another professor.”

“I suppose I have him to thank for bringing you home safely. Regardless, you should have called me to pick you up.”

You have one last card to play. “That’s not in the contract.”

His eyes harden and narrow the slightest bit, the curve of his jaw growing tense in building irritation. “How so?”

“There’s a line somewhere in there about making sure I would not contact you for personal favors that are outside the scope of our,” you hesitate to find the right words, “relationship.” You can’t remember the last time your palms sweat so much.

“I offered.”

“And I am not obligated to take the offer. While kind, I did not see the need to bother you.”

“I clearly remember stating that it wouldn’t be an issue, especially considering I asked you to stay with me for the night.”

“But I told you I couldn’t,” you retort.

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

The bitter note in his voice on his last word matches his steely gaze that is undoubtedly determined to pick you apart, to peel off each layer of whatever walls you may have put up. He’s not ignorant or oblivious by any means – something is going on, and you’re not telling him. You answer him with deafening silence, blaming your late-night fatigue for it.

Responding directly to his question would only make this worse, as you cannot see yourself getting out of the ensuing conversation unscathed and alive. Instead, the couch dips as you cross the distance between you two, hesitantly straddling his hips in case he doesn’t want you to. But he allows your move, his hands almost instinctively resting on your thighs as you settle yourself into his hold. His skin feels glassy smooth beneath your fingers as you caress his cheek, studying every detail of his face and avoiding his eyes.

Perhaps there is a part of you that is trying to commit the minutiae to memory in preparation for the days when you will no longer see him so intimately. You should have never let yourself get so attached, no matter how much tenderness and adoration Sylus has been lavishing you with. The realization hits you in a bittersweet manner, and the featherlight kiss you place on his lips only makes it hurt more.

Yet you move past the pain to accept the fall, the descent into oblivion as you feel Sylus respond to your kiss, deepening and increasing in fervor. The heat in your core is more than just lust as it sinks deeper and deeper into you, a testament to the depth of your affections. Somehow, his touch as his hands roam your figure burns hotter. It almost makes you want to shy away from his grasp, but part of you welcomes the trails of fire as your punishment for deceiving him.

You gasp out his name as his lips leave your neck scorching, each nip of his teeth and lave of his tongue adding to the haze slowly overtaking your rationale. But beneath the man’s ardor, you manage to recognize his irritation and annoyance – the way his fingers grip your waist, his nails digging into your back – about how this whole night has progressed.

Apologize, his eyes seem to scream. Seek forgiveness as I seek vengeance, his hands draw on your skin.

Beg for me.

“You test my patience in a way that others have never done before,” he says in a dangerous tone as you gasp at the chords of delicious pain running down your back.

“I’m– ah – sorry,” you gasp as his arousal grinds purposefully against yours.

The answering swat against your ass stings, and you attempt to ignore the rush of slick dampening your panties even further – a reaction that Sylus does not fail to miss. Instinct calls and beckons when your eyes slip shut the moment a hand rakes up to get a firm grip of your hair, pulled towards him so he can kiss you fervently again.

So lost in a hazy reverie, you barely register when he lifts you by your thighs and makes his way to your bedroom. Or at least, you think he’s going there, given that he’s only been in your bedroom once before. But Sylus makes strides with the confidence of someone who has visited here countless times, and the aura he exudes both thrills and frightens you.

In mere seconds, he strips you down and regards you with an appreciative gaze. The glint and apparent desire in his eyes never fails to flatter you – to be wanted is addicting, especially when wanted by a man as powerful as Sylus. You should be alarmed by how natural it feels to be in this current state of undress and debauchery.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and you obey without a second thought. “Good girl.

“As much as I cannot bother to care about disturbing your neighbors, I know you do,” he concedes, but not without balling up your panties and stuffing them past your parted lips. “All of this could have been avoided if you had just let me pick you up.”

The argumentative whine that slips off your tongue is resolutely muffled, serving no purpose except to further Sylus’s sadism. His approving smirk immediately quells your anger, and you can only watch with half-lidded eyes as he removes his clothes at a painstakingly slow place. Normally, you are the one to grant him a show at his command, but tonight, you deserved a taste of your own medicine. Your wrists become bound by his belt as he finds his second home between your legs. Tears prick the corners of your eyes when he purposefully lets his shaft drop on your clit.

“Always so wet and ready for me, kitten,” he praises, his tone low, teasing, but appreciative.

His smirk widens as he moves to hold his cock and tap it menacingly against the puffy bundle of nerves, taking in each twitch of your body, each dampened mewl, each falling tear. With each tap, the string of slick between your cunt and his length becomes more and more prominent, spreading across his skin. “Tell me, sweetie, who this belongs to,” Sylus compels with a drawl, jutting his chin towards your carnal source of torture before meeting your eyes. He knows very well that the word you're trying to say is “you”, but he takes great pleasure in knowing that there is no way the sounds will come through the soaked cotton in your mouth. “Hmm? What was that?” The frustration of not being able to clearly convey the right answers only adds to your arousal, turning the heat in your core into molten lava. At his clarifying question, you, undoubtedly, feel a pool of precum drip from your pussy, and when you see his eyes flit down to his cock in hand, you know he's fully aware of it too. They hone in on how easily the tip slips into your beckoning entrance, attempting to entice and draw him in for both your pleasures.

You keen as Sylus slides two fingers into your entrance without warning – they’re a far cry from his cock, but thick and long in their own desirable way. The tips of his fingers easily find the spot that makes you squirm, moan, mewl, and you’d have to be blind to miss the wicked expression splitting across his face. Despite the teasing attitude from earlier, he wastes no time trying to bring you to your peak. Your muffled cries only spur him on, even more so when he’s able to fit a third finger inside you. “Maybe I should let your neighbors hear us. I imagine it would get the message across that you’re not exactly…available.”

Embarrassing, what you would give in this very moment to be nothing more than his. Your hips follow the drag of his fingers, unwilling to let yourself feel anything less than filled. But before he lets you come, he stops.

Why?

“Greedy little thing.” His tone is mocking, yet highly amused, as he removes his fingers – and as much as he would like to play with you to his heart’s content, to break you down and tear you apart, his veins thrum with impatience and apprehension. Sylus seeks to punish you in a different, more overwhelming fashion, that would require you to beg him to stop rather than to start. It takes everything in him to not force you down his entire length. Instead, he devises to lull you into a false sense of security with the way that he takes his time sliding into you, no matter how much your pretty cunt desperately tries to suck him in. Sylus is sure you would be able to see the restraint painted across his face if you didn’t have your head thrown back and back arched from being stretched open. The sight of your bare stomach and chest makes it all the much harder to reign in his desires.

“Fuck,” he hisses. His cock continues to bully its way through your pussy, slowly and languidly, until it’s fully trapped inside you. When your thighs meet his v-line and your clit brushes against his skin, you whine and buck against him for desperately needed friction. But Sylus quickly traps you and pins you down from your thighs, restricting your movements with a devilish grin. “You never answered my question,” he reminds you, a clear taunt. In the blink of an eye, he leans back to land a firm yet stinging slap on your puffy clit and revels in your muffled cry. “Who does this belong to?”

Your dry sobs only intensify as you fight to respond with a clear answer, but it’s impossible. The way you grind your hips against him, seeking any sensation that could help quench this insatiable thirst in your core, should say enough. Sure, you could simply point at him, even with your wrists tied together, but you’ve been with him long enough to know that he wants the words of possession to roll off your tongue at times like these. And if you tried taking the cloth from your mouth…needless to say, you would be lucky to survive the night.

He chuckles when he feels the walls of your pussy tighten around his cock, a different tone that deviates from the vicious shake of your head to signal that despite your complaints, you would much rather be gagged like this. “Cum for me,” Sylus demands in a low voice. “Cum for me, cum from me just being inside you, and I will give you what you’ve been begging for this whole time.

“Even better yet, make a mess.”

The coil in your core tightens more and more and more until it suddenly snaps, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm and your throat hoarse from your silenced screams. “Good girl,” he praises when he pulls out, hungry eyes roaming every inch of you, as he rapidly swipes his fingers against your clit and relishes in his ability to make you squirt, fluids flying and landing messily in the near vicinity. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get over the high, oversensitivity from his fingers as they continue to stimulate you. Barely coming down from your climax, Sylus stuffs three fingers inside you and continues to fuck you, purposefully and forcefully rocking against your g-spot.

“Please,” you beg and cry as you twitch and flinch, trying to remove yourself from the source of this unbearable amount of pleasure. But your articulation is, once again, victim to your cotton gag, leaving you to audibly dry sob and squeal in overstimulation. The satisfaction on your sponsor’s complexion should sound the alarms in your brain, but it only thrills you to pieces as clarity fades more and more from your conscience.

In a haze, you manage to pull your belt-bound wrists forward from above your head and tap his shoulder three times. Only then does he stop in his tracks, carefully removing his fingers from your core. Sylus exhibits the same attention when he holds your chin with one hand and takes the soaked cotton of your panties out of your mouth. Before you can even take two breaths, greedily gasping for air, Sylus kisses you softly, slowly. Unable to do much with your head still in a fog, you reciprocate as much as you can – to silently thank him for his punishment, as well as his mercy. He pulls back, cueing you to open your eyes and take him in, just as he assesses you in his own way. His eyes search and roam your face and figure before meeting your gaze once more.

How endearing, you believe they seem to say. He cocks an eyebrow, his way of asking are you okay? You take a few deep breaths before nodding. But before you can try and decipher more of what he may be feeling through his eyes, he bends forward, breathing into your ear, “On your stomach.”

Large, strong hands manhandle you until your head is almost buried into the sheets, hiding your disheveled state, your hands grasping at the expensive linen, and his weight planted firmly on top of you. A pillow is stuffed beneath your abdomen before he spreads your ass, eager to study the ruin he has caused on your poor, little pussy. Sylus readjusts himself so that his dick nestles comfortably between your ass cheeks. Even in your daze, the heat of his arousal almost seems to burn your flesh, and you desperately wish it was inside you.

A self-proclaimed mind reader, Sylus drives you to the edge, groaning quietly when your cunt attempts to lure him in when he coquettes you with the tip. Every slide, every push, every instance of friction makes you fall deeper into this pool of anguish and lechery. Before you even realize it, visceral pleas for him to fuck you are spilling from your tongue, very much so to his delight. “I know you can beg better than that,” he taunts. “And to think I had trained you so well.” His voice reeks in mock despair and disappointment.

Though you know he’s not completely serious, his words are enough to send your sin-addled brain into a state of panic – so panicked and shaken to the point that you don't even register the next words falling off your tongue. Something about the practiced but genuine phrases of separation, wanting to be used, wanting to be ruined – were you pressing back into him, hoping, praying that you could draw him into you?

In response, you soak in the hisses of expletives in your ear, the comforting, mind-numbing sensation of being filled again, and the weight of his frame atop yours. He holds himself up on his elbows, and each thrust threatens to split you in two. “Mine,” his voice slips through your conscience, hanging onto the way the sound drags out, “are you not?”

Always, you nearly answer on primal instinct when he buries himself as deep as he can inside you, his cock almost feeling like it’s in the back of your throat. The inexplicable amount of pleasure stops you from giving him what he wants, which pushes him to press himself even harder against you. “I’m beginning to lose my patience, kitten,” Sylus warns, as if he’s not the very reason for your delayed responses. His fingers sneak underneath you to grab you around the neck, forcing your head up. Your pants are greedy, desperately seeking air as his hand tightens just a bit more, the haziness in your mind thickening.

“Yours,” you gasp. “Always,” slips off your tongue before you can stop yourself.

The silence that hangs still is enough to make you question whether or not you fucked this whole thing up. Dread begins to drip into your system as his grip around your neck loosens, even more so when his hand slips away entirely and he begins sliding out of you. “Wa–”

In the blink of an eye, his hand pushes your head back into the sheets, his fingers curling around your strands at the scalp. Sylus’s cock fucks you into the mattress, his pace almost frantic, yet punishing. The realization that you’re going to be incredibly sore in the morning is an accepted assumption at this point, leaving you with little warning of your release approaching the precipice. Silenced cries, Sylus fervidly ensuring that your pussy is forever molded to the shape of his length, your sanity slipping – his impassioned murmurs of how tight you are, how easily he can pound you into oblivion, how your pussy makes it so easy for him to sink into the very depths of your core – all drive you to your peak. His last sign that you’re going to come is the dissipation of your whimpers.

Sylus wraps his hand around your neck once more, turning it so that he can capture your lips in a bruising kiss. He swallows your screams as you topple over the edge, your climax so intense that your whole body trembles for what feels like eternity in his hold. Your pussy compels him to remain buried deep inside you, and he’s more than happy to comply. But it doesn’t stop him from grinding against you, driving you into overstimulation.

“So good,” he groans against your lips in between kisses. “So fucking good, taking my cock so well, I’m gonna–”

“Y-your cum, please,” you urge. “Please give me your cum!” Your voice dissolves into sobs.

“Fuck!” Sylus spits out. The hand that was on your neck now covers your mouth as he spills inside you with a deep moan, his teeth buried into your shoulder to muffle his own voice. You relish in the sharp pain, as if he’s trying to engrave his mark into your skin, and can’t help but keen as his cum fills you up. Each pulse and twitch of his cock sends a shiver down your spine and almost tempts you into begging for more.

Catching his breath, he refuses to leave your warmth. His tongue softly licks the area where his teeth had embedded themselves into your shoulder, and follows them with reverent kisses. You remain quiet, only letting your breath hitch when Sylus slips out of you. He gently presses your back into a deeper arch so that you can present yourself to him, and he watches with apparent satisfaction as his cum leaks from your pussy. A hand on your ass, his thumb reaches over for your entrance to push and give him a better view of his undeniable claim on you.

As infuriating as he can be, you observe with bleary eyes as he leaves to grab a damp towel from your bathroom before returning and carefully wiping his cum away. After doing so, he tosses it to the floor and picks you up bridal-style, carrying you the short distance to your bathroom. He starts the shower and hums some nonsensical tune with a faint voice as you wait for the water to warm up. When he deems it hot enough, Sylus offers you a hand and helps you into the shower. Compared to his apartment, your shower stall is barely enough to fit the both of you. But he makes it work, taking the utmost care in cleaning you up, his touch so cautious yet heavy with care.

You barely remember making it out of the shower, much less when he dries you off and brings you to bed. There’s a faint memory of his warmth wrapping around your frame when you awaken later that morning, a delicious ache stretched through your muscles. Yet the side where he laid is cold.

It, along with the unread text from your bank notifying you of a, no doubt, sizeable deposit, is to be expected, you remind yourself. The sticky note by your phone that reads, “Early meeting, sweetie. -S” is the only truly physical (and unexpected) sign that he had been here in the first place. He never owes you an explanation, and you never expect to get one.

Just another day, another transaction.

Friday rolls around, and when the sun has set beneath the horizon, you find yourself perched in Sylus’s home on the kitchen island, a speckless slab of black quartz that you just know you’re leaving fingerprints on, as he throws together a salad. Something is in the air fryer, and he has a bottle of sparkling cider waiting to be opened. Sylus had stopped you with a look of “don’t you dare” when you tried helping out with something – anything – so the only thing you could do was sit and try to look pretty.

“Pick a salad dressing,” he commands when you grow silent. You eye the three jars that have been placed in front of you.

“I’m fine with any of them.”

“Not an answer.”

“I’m serious though!”

“Pick one.”

You groan as you look at the jars and point at the middle one. “Happy now?” you ask passive aggressively, sending him an exasperated glare.

Sylus, swift and silent, swoops in and steals a kiss from an unexpected you. Saying nothing, he pours some out into the salad bowl and mixes it all together with adept flicks of his wrist – no utensils needed. With a pair of tongs, he drops some greens onto your plate before taking the rest and tending to whatever is cooking in the oven.

It’s not the first time you’ve been here, and it’s not the first time he’s cooked for you. But it is the first time since accepting that you may feel something more than obligation and friendly affection for this man. This whole experience feels wildly domestic, as if you belonged…here.

On this counter.

Accepting impromptu kisses.

Waiting on food cooked by him.

Knowing you’re staying over for the night.

As if you were meant to be a part of his life.

The thought terrifies you, without a doubt, but you like it. Settling down with Sylus, forever attached at his hip at events, is a dangerous fantasy.

Lost in your thoughts, the what if?s, the possibilities, your daydream breaks when he pulls the curtain closed in front of the balcony door, completely blocking a wonderful (and surely, very expensive) view of Linkon. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you had been looking past the windowpane when frolicking around in your imagination, and you’re reminded of the night before you disconnected your smart watch from his phone. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You feel the heat rushing into your cheeks, knowing they would be warm to the touch. Turning away from the now-concealed nighttime skyline, you direct your attention to the fridge meters away from you. “Just thinking about my test.”

“It’s too late now, if you realize you got something wrong. We’re here to celebrate it being over.”

“I know.” You sigh. “Thank you for doing this, by the way. I was getting a little tired of eating out.”

“I was as well. Too many business lunches and dinners the last couple of weeks.”

“How did those go?” you ask just to keep the conversation going.

“They went fine,” Sylus says without any further detail. “Come, let’s eat.” Before you can come down from the counter yourself, he already has an arm wound around your waist and is semi-carrying you to the dinner table. The distance between the table and the kitchen was maybe fifteen steps at best, closer to seven given Sylus’s long strides. It would’ve been a short walk regardless, and you’re flustered with the unexpected royal treatment.

Unceremoniously (but still carefully), he sits you down into a chair and pushes it in before going to his seat. Sylus places himself next to you at this round, mahogany table that seems a little too big for a man who lives alone. Largely used for serving several different dishes, it just looks a little out of place compared to the rest of his penthouse, all sleek and sharp. But you’ve learned to stop questioning things you’re curious about when it comes to his personal life, because clearly, he’s not very open to sharing those details.

Dinner isn’t anything special, as Sylus lets you prattle on about your research and other office gossip. He never divulges any of the gossip in his own workplace, but you understand it’s for confidentiality reasons. And he may just not care that much. At this point, Sylus knows a little too much about you while you know very little about him outside of his preferences and inclinations for food, media, and general daily habits.

Understanding the reality of that stun locks you for a few seconds – the duality of the word intimacy, the realization that you don’t even know Sylus’s favorite color. You could guess, sure, but you don’t definitively know. Why is it that you know the exact amount of shaved truffle on his pasta at that fancy restaurant by the river, but not his birthday? How do you explain your ability to pick up on details of his facial expressions at events and banquets, therefore knowing when to intervene so he can get a break from these people, but not the makeup of his family?

“You’ve been staring off into space quite a bit lately,” Sylus muses, ripping you away from the beginnings of your mental breakdown.

“Sorry, I just thought of something about my exam again.”

“What a terrible host I’ve been then, to allow your mind to wander so often. How can I keep your focus on me?”

You hum, looking around his apartment and then at the table. “Let me wash the dishes.”

“I own a dishwasher for a reason.”

“Please? It’s the least I could do since you made dinner – which was wonderful, by the way. You ever consider becoming a chef?” you ask with a slight chuckle, taking the opportunity to grab his dishware and utensils and carry them to the sink. Stainless steel shines brightly at you, whether from a recent deep clean or lack of usage, as you start to run the tap for warm water.

Large, familiar hands find their home on your waist, the heat burning through your sweater. They pull you against his frame, and you allow yourself to lean back a little bit as you start scrubbing the porcelain. Arms wind around your middle and hold you tight, his senses becoming muddled as he loses himself in your scent and touch. He gently paints the column of your neck with soft, faint kisses – so soft that if you hadn’t been so tuned into him, you would’ve missed them.

“You’re taking too long,” Sylus murmurs against your skin.

“What, never had to wait a tiny bit for a treat you want?” you tease, and chuckle when his teeth bite into your shoulder.

“Brat.”

“I’m almost done, I promise.”

It’s so hard to not like–

Your brain freezes – but somehow still commands you to scrub the plate in your hand. Moving on pure muscle memory now, you have maybe five seconds to figure out your own thought process.

This is a contract, you remind yourself. This is a mutual relationship to satisfy both parties’ needs without getting personal feelings involved. Sylus made that very clear in the beginning. But the less logical part of your conscience creeps in like a phantom on your shoulder. So how does that explain Sylus’s actions recently? How does that explain this very moment of what would appear to anyone as a sweet, pure, domestic interaction?

He’s just comfortable, you rationalize.

Why does he insist on you staying the night?

Because that’s what this contract entails.

Why does he keep asking you to move closer?

It’d be more of a problem if he was asking me to move in with him.

Would it be though?

Of course??

You sure about that?

This is NOT the time for--!

A small pinch on your waist brings you back to reality, your synapses firing on overdrive to try to get you back to a functional level. You cannot hold back your “ow!”, which seems to be just enough of a reaction to satisfy this man.

“What was that for?!”

“Something is clearly on your mind,” he says in a low tone, the tone that indicates he’s starting to become agitated.

“No there’s not,” you retort and fail to hide the sheepishness in your own voice.

“You’re doing a terrible job at convincing me to accept that. What are you not telling me?”

“It’s–,” you pause, scrambling for words. “--trivial, at best.”

Sylus’s arm extends in front of you to forcibly remove the plate from one hand and the sponge from the other. You relent to reduce the risk of breaking anything, but somehow, it’s still not enough. He grabs a tea towel hanging on the oven door behind him, spins you around so that your back is now digging into the edge of the sink, and proceeds to furiously dry your hands. You can’t help but wince when he tries to rub off some dried soap residue, but there is no time to dwell on it.

Not when Sylus slings the towel on to his shoulder and bends at the waist to meet your eyes. Not when he cages you between his arms as his hands bear his weight on either side of you. Not when he pins you with an expectant glare, demanding your full honesty.

“It’s really nothing.” Your tone is firmer now, but he doesn’t fall for it.

“Is it something personal?”

“...yes.”

“Does it have anything to do with your family?”

“No.”

“Is it something that I’m able to fix?

Technically, yes. But you’re not stupid.

“No.” Your voice softens, lowering to a murmur at best.

“Tsk,” Sylus clicks his tongue. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Because you have a large enough influence to make you think that you can fix anything you want.”

“Precisely,” he responds pointedly and, perhaps, a little too proudly. “So tell me. Tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll have it resolved within 48 hours.”

You didn’t realize that you had stopped looking him in the eye. And when you do, your breath hitches. So determined, so resolute.

And yet, so heartbreaking.

You can’t help but let your fingers ghost over his cheek, tracing the edge of his jawline. He stands firm even when you step forward and press a light kiss against his cheek. As if on instinct, he turns and immediately parts his lips to slide against yours, but you pull back before he has the chance to deepen it, and with it, your affection.

“You have enough to worry about as it is,” you murmur. “I’m fine, really.”

Sylus’s eyes turn disapproving, doubtful. But he knows when to back off when needed.

“Don’t forget that I can help you, should you need it,” he gently reminds you. “Do you understand?”

“I do, don’t worry.”

He sighs. “Very well then. Now come, we’re here to celebrate the end of your exam, after all.”

You take his outstretched hand, but you fail to leave behind your troubled heart.

Two nights later, at four in the morning, you stare blankly at your phone screen.

[Are you sure you want to request to terminate this contract?]

The only contact you've had with Sylus the last two days is sporadic texts about little things, like how your day was going or if you'd heard about the results of your exam yet. You do your best in suppressing the quiet loneliness that pushes your heart to your throat and a dagger into your stomach, the undeniable sensation of realizing that you miss Sylus.

Missing him as if he were your actual partner and not just one for show with dollar signs behind the scenes.

Worrying enough to wonder if he's getting enough sleep and eating enough food outside of whatever work dinners or lunches he may be obligated to attend. Just yesterday, you had ordered delivery to his office with your own money, and he had texted you a simple Thank you, little one. To which you responded with a casual, You're welcome 👍.

Smooth.

You're not sure how long your eyes linger over the [Yes] button, the midnight minutes blinking by as you contemplate your next move. Is this the right call? Should you wait until Sylus comes around and tells you on his own about the arranged marriage? Should you just wait until he makes the request instead?

No. You want a clean break. You want to call this off on your terms, essentially saving yourself from the path of destruction that you would undoubtedly set off on. One tap and a press of the lock button immediately after, you burrow yourself into your blankets and will yourself to sleep.

With light sleep at best, you watch with bleary eyes as the sun begins to rise, casting your room into a hue of its golden hour, signifying contentment and new beginnings. But it only elicits dread as you wait for the inevitable end.

The shriek of your phone rips you from your mindless daydreaming, and you know who it is before you can even get a good look at the screen.

“Hel–”

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice rings dark, irate, with what you think is the slightest hint of panic laced beneath each syllable.

“Sylus,” you start, but he interrupts you again.

“If I did something to upset you, then you need to let me know. Otherwise, I am at a complete loss for your sudden request to terminate our agreement.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Your attempt to subdue his worries may be futile, but you at least have to try.

“And I’m sure you can see why I don’t believe you for even a second.”

“I mean it though,” you refute. “Look, I’ll explain more when we meet with the company rep.”

“My patience is running thin. Tell me now.”

“Please, please just wait until we meet this evening,” you beseech, on the brink of breaking down while walking back to your apartment from class.

“It was simply a mistake, right?”

“Sylus, please–”

“Fine. Don’t be late.” The beep that follows indicates he has hung up on you. You suppose you got what you wanted, but it feels a hundred times worse.

There will never be enough time in the world for you to be prepared for this moment, standing in the ascending elevator of a discrete yet well-kept high-rise building while clutching a manilla envelope in your hand. The last time you were here was to outline the conditions of the situation with a representative there to help mitigate and ensure that both parties would be satisfied. You suppose they’ll be doing the same thing today, except it would be to ensure a clean split.

As the secretary walks you to the designated conference room, your legs tremble, even more so when she casually adds that Sylus was already here, waiting. She stops and knocks on the door in front of her, announcing your arrival. A sound of approval from inside cues her to open the door and let you in, and you nervously step inside after thanking her. Not that you didn’t believe her earlier, but actually seeing Sylus in the flesh somehow adds to the gravity of the situation.

“We have both parties here now, so let us begin,” the representative says after greeting you with a handshake. Calling out your name and gesturing to you, he states,” You are the one that called to terminate this contractual agreement, is that correct?”

“Yes,” you confirm in a shaky voice and clear your throat. A copy of the contract sits in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the letters that are starting to blur and swirl together. If it means that you don’t have to look at Sylus, you’ll take it.

“Is the reason for the termination due to any violations of the terms and conditions set at the initial meeting?”

“No.”

Despite keeping your head down, you see and hear Sylus shift in his chair. A sudden chill wraps around you, and you slightly shiver.

“Mr. Qin, to your knowledge, did she violate any part of the contract?”

“No.”

“Now let us discuss financial compensation.” Looking towards you again, he asks, “Have you been financially compensated for your services?”

“More than adequately.”

“Per the contract, are there any services you have not been paid for?”

You shake your head. “Sylus does not owe me anything.”

“Then as per company policy, once one party calls for the termination of the contract, the request must be honored to protect the safety of both parties. Any services that were not compensated for would have to be done here in this meeting, but that is not a concern in this case. Please give me a few minutes to draw up the agreement to terminate so that you both can sign it.” The representative gets up and leaves the conference room.

Sylus steals the opportunity to ask the one question that has been on repeat in his mind since he received the notification.

“Why?”

You like to think you’ve gotten to know Sylus relatively well over the last year. Given your lack of explanation over the phone earlier, you know your words alone would never be enough to placate him. With shaky hands, you retrieve the envelope from your lap and slide it across the table, even daring to finally look up at him now. His crimson eyes nearly break you, but you’re grasping onto every last straw to keep yourself sane.

Inside the envelope contained a couple of pictures found online of Sylus’s arranged fiancée, as well as several news articles discussing how her company may be heading towards a merger, but it was unclear on exactly when it would happen and who it would be with. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that you’ve seen her several times in passing at various events and fundraisers, and that she and the man sitting across you seemed to avoid each other in public as inconspicuously as possible. You warily watch as he pulls the contents out and freezes, his gaze snapping back to you.

“How did you…?” he inquires.

“It doesn’t matter how I found out,” you respond softly before switching to a more matter-of-fact tone. “We knew this would come to an end at some point. Considering your arrangement isn’t known to the public yet, it was fine to be seen with me. But when this news breaks out, and if you’re still associated with me, it wouldn’t look good for either of you. You don’t need the reputation as a two-timing womanizer, and she doesn’t need to be publicly perceived as some poor woman who couldn’t keep a hold on you, therefore undermining her achievements.”

“You should have talked to me before going straight to nullifying our contract,” he fires back.

“That would’ve made it harder.”

Sylus leans back in his seat, now regarding you with piqued curiosity. “Made what harder?”

“Maybe that’s not the right expression.” Your palms are starting to get sweaty again, even as they curl and clench tighter than ever, your fingers digging into your palms. There's nothing you can do that would eradicate the shakiness in your voice. “I just meant that talking before now would've made everything complicated.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do elaborate.”

“Well, I thought,” you stammer. “I mean– it’s just talking would’ve, would’ve– let some—” You pause again, desperately trying to find the right words. “Would’ve let some things be said that would’ve, you know, been better to be left unsaid. About us. Between us. Does that make sense?” Your hands have been drawing inane shapes in the air as if they would help aid in Sylus’s (and your) understanding.

“Better unsaid by you or me?”

After a few seconds, you answer hesitantly, “Both, maybe?”

For the first time in months, there are no emotions in his eyes. You have always been able to pick out at least something he may be feeling – affection, frustration, fatigue, lust – but to be on the receiving end of his blank stare like it’s the first day all over again, is unnerving. Agonizing, too.

When he finally opens his mouth, his tone dripping with disdain and mockery, he derides, “Who knew the little kitten thought so highly of herself?”

His words immediately trigger an alarming amount of shame and embarrassment. Have you been reading too much into his actions? Was it all in your head? Did it all occur out of some desperation for something genuine from him?

Oh God.

It’s at this moment that the representative comes back with the papers in hand, and part of you is ready to believe that there may actually be a higher power in the universe. “Thank you for your patience. Once you both have signed the termination agreement, I will make copies for both of you.” He seems completely unaware of the tension that has solidified between you and the CEO, even as you take the pen from the representative with a slight tremor. You quickly scan over the contents because you’re having an increasingly difficult time finding the brain cells to scrutinize each sentence and sign on the indicated lines. After you all but shove the papers across the table, you push your seat back and grab your purse.

“Oh, miss,” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“You can just email me a copy of these. Excuse me, I have something urgent to get to.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before giving a corporate smile. “Of course. Thank you for coming in. Have a good rest of your night.”

“Thank you. You as well.” Your platitude is rushed, almost harsh sounding. You mentally note that you need to send a card that is both a thank-you and an apology for scurrying off like this when you were the one to initiate it.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on your brain and consciousness, so much so that you suddenly find yourself out in the lobby of the building with no recollection of how you even got down here. A gust of fresh air hits you as you step out the doors, and it’s a little easier to breathe now. But it doesn’t mean that your chest isn’t ready to burst, your ribcage threatening to tear open and leave you passed out on the street. It doesn’t mean that Sylus’s words don’t hurt you any less, and the pain of your own embarrassment only compounds on them.

The uncharacteristic chill on this summer night scrapes against your cheeks and ears. You finally will yourself to walk towards the nearest subway station, all the while blinking back tears that just won’t stop coming. Never mind the other pedestrians who may catch a glimpse of you wiping away any physical manifestation of your grief, the other subway riders who may observe you desperately hiding in a corner of the carriage, or even the other residents in your apartment building who watch you furiously tapping your phone while passing by.

With nothing to stop you, not even your own will, you let the tears flow, streaming down the sides of your face and into your pillow as you trace the ridges of your wall, your phone lying innocently a few inches away. Despite deleting his phone number and officially disconnecting on the website, you can’t bring yourself to discard his message thread. There were too many memories, too many reminders of what you once had and will probably never have again.

Your pillow becomes damp with tears of confusion, shame, and regret. How could you be so stupid,so caught up in your own delusions that Sylus Qin, tech mogul and CEO, one of the most secretive and sought-out individuals of the current decade, with connections you couldn’t even dare to dream of, somehow held a shred of genuine affection for you? How could you have thought that his demands to see you night after night were anything more than just wanting some type of company, the kind that does what he says and strokes his ego? How could you have convinced yourself that you were actually special to him?

How could you have put yourself at so much emotional risk for something that was nothing but transactional to begin with?

The next morning, with one look at your morose expression and the puffiness of your eyes, the other people in your cohort know better than to ask if you’re okay. During the lecture, Jiho silently hands you a piece of gum, a tiny, reoccurring gesture of camaraderie throughout these years of graduate school, as an attempt at providing some type of normalcy. Your movements are sluggish and lethargic as you fold the strip into your mouth, but it’s the first time in the last 18 hours that you feel like things might…just be okay.

Two days later, an email comes from the company telling you it is policy to change your phone number, and they will financially compensate for the cost of a new SIM card since it is an inconvenience to you. Hours later, you find yourself in front of a cellphone technician who is setting up the new SIM card. As they type in a few things on their computer, they hand you a pin to help eject your current one. You’re not looking forward to the hassle of telling everyone that your number has changed and fixing it in everything you have that involves your number, but even you understand that this is the first step to a fresh start. Sylus is probably going through the same process, if he already hasn’t gotten it done.

And as your phone sets everything up with the new number, you stare at your closet, now stuffed to the brim with dresses and skirts that you may never wear again. Nothing you do from now on would ever require such formalities. The knowledge of it stings to some degree when you find a large, empty bin that was used when you had moved in. Without ceremony, you begin the mindless task of removing said clothing items from their hangers and folding them into the container. You don’t want to cry. You don’t expect to cry. But the steady streaks of tears dripping down your face is enough to show how much you grew to cherish your time with Sylus.

Time that you will never be able to return to.

[fin]

“How did she know?”

“Sylus, what are you–”

“She knew,” Sylus cuts her off. “How could she have known without you tipping her off?”

“Think about this logically. I want this arrangement gone as much as you do, so why would I tell her? She’s your key to dissolving all this.”

“She was more than that.”

“Was?”

“Shit,” Sylus curses, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“...she left you?”

“No,” he retorts. “Not willingly.” At least, that’s what he wants to believe. “But I’m not discussing this with you.”

“And I don’t really care to know the details. So…what are we going to do?”

Sylus’s hand tightens around his newly acquired phone as he stands and gazes out the window at the city skyline from his bedroom. He might be starting to understand why you seemed so entranced by the view.

“We’ll figure something out.”

“I really hope so, Sylus.”

“Hey boss, we’re here for the daily debrief,” Luke and Kieran announce as they slip into his office and all but collapse into the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m listening,” Sylus says, keeping his eyes trained on his monitor.

“It was the usual. She woke up, skipped breakfast, went to class, stayed in the small office for her professor’s grad students for like, five hours. Uh, what else?”

“Bought a snack from that place in the library that sells coffee and shit,” the other twin adds. “Then she–”

“What snack did she buy?”

“Just some chips, from what we saw.” The twins look at each other and give a slight shrug.

“Did she eat lunch?” Sylus’s tone suggests that he could care less, despite having posed the question.

“She ate something while in the office, but it didn’t look like anything substantial. Oh, but she had a sandwich for dinner. She watched some TV – one of her comfort shows again – and scrolled on her phone while in bed. Did we miss anything?”

“I think that about covers it.”

Luke and Kieran sit in silence, waiting for Sylus’s dismissal. Said man continues to type away on his keyboard.

“Hey boss,” Kieran starts and immediately earns a “shut the fuck up” look from Luke. “We’ve been doing this for a year.”

“Which is fine,” Luke adds right after. “We’re not complaining.”

“Right, we’re not complaining. But uhh,” Kieran continues. “How long do you expect for this to go on for?”

“As long as it needs to. You’re dismissed.”

Not long after the twins disappear from his view, he runs a hand through his silvery locks, frustration and tension evident in his strained tendons and veins. Sylus locks his computer and grabs the coat off his chair before sauntering down to his car many, many floors below where the parking garage is. But instead of walking towards his sports car, the one that had sat in a visitor spot of your apartment parking lot all those months ago, he makes his way to an unsuspecting black sedan, its brand common and inconspicuous. Without any need for a GPS, Sylus pulls out and drives to your apartment complex.

In the darkness of twilight and beneath the shadows of beechnut trees, he leans against the steering wheel and gazes up at your window, a luminescent yellow shimmering through the curtains. They haven’t been pulled completely shut, but there is nothing to see in the light regardless. The minutes that pass do not feel like time in any way as he sits in a somewhat meditative state, and the only thing that could snap him out of it is when your bedroom lights switch dark. In reality, fifteen minutes pass before he watches your shadow, then your figure, approach the windowpane.

Sylus takes the little time he has to observe you, to see if you appear any different than yesterday. Did you have a full meal? Was your research stressful? Were you making use of the money he had paid you before everything ended? Were you getting enough rest and nutrition?

When he can no longer see you, he falls back in his seat and lets out a heavy sigh, exhaustion weighing heavily on his eyes. Sylus starts his car and throws it in reverse, and he spends his twenty-minute drive home thinking about nothing but you, his cold, empty bed, and how maybe, as much as he wants to deny it on all fronts, you two were not meant to be. Yet he holds onto hope that he can defy that fate eventually, because whether you know it or not…

You will always be his.

#sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus qin #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace smut #sylus angst #tw: toxic relationships #tw: miscommunication

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cat3ch1sm · 1 year ago

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hii! could i request hcs about illumi's fiancé meeting the zoldycks? something along the lines of her being expected to be the next lady of the house and getting used to the mansion's lifestyle (having butlers, being secluded on a mountain, having the entire family living together)? it would also be nice to see her getting along with the little siblings (killua, kalluto, and alluka)

sorry if i left out any necessary details in this request :(

~✰♡✰♡✰~ hellooo! thanks for ur request :)) haven’t written for hxh in a little while so im happy to write this for you and our favorite bug-eyed assassin :3 if you’re ever unsure about what info to put in a request, just visit the pinned post! ily 💚

fem!reader

𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤𝐬

illumi isn’t close with his family in the same sense that normal people are close with their families, but nonetheless he feels the need to inform them of major developments in his life. through a letter he tells his family of his engagement, and says that he is going to bring you to his home to see them all.

silva is indifferent, and zeno couldn’t care less, but kikyo is ecstatic that her illumi is finally going to marry someone- and that it isn’t that awful clown hisoka. she’d been seriously concerned for a second there. but she rounds up all the members of her family to be present on the day of your arrival (using excessive force because nobody really wanted to come besides alluka, who was only allowed to meet you because killua threatened to not show up unless alluka was permitted as well).

when you and illumi first arrive after the lengthy trip up the mountain, you are greeted by butlers gotoh and canary, whose presence startles you. you were aware of illumi’s great wealth and status, but it was certainly different from how you’d grown up. just getting inside the actual home is a process- illumi’s strength slightly freaking you out when he pushes open four of the doors to the entrance of the mansion without breaking a sweat and then encountering Mike, the Zoldycks’ monstrous dog. illumi does notice your apprehension, though, and plainly assures you that the dog won’t harm anybody it isn’t supposed to. you’re still visibly nervous, though, so illumi has you come closer to him and hold on to his arm. regardless, you realize it may be tougher to settle in than you thought.

at last, though, illumi brings you to his family. nobody reacts much outwardly to your presence, but you notice a white-haired boy with catlike eyes observing you closely, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. standing beside the boy are two other black haired children- one with short black hair standing somberly with his hands folded in front of him, and the other an eager blue-eyed girl whose gaze sparkles as she looks at you. the white haired boy stands right behind the blue-eyed child. the tall, blonde man with a large frame illumi tells you is Silva, his father, and the slightly shorter man with white hair beside him is illumi’s grandfather, zeno.

without warning, you feel thin arms thrown around you in an embrace, and you almost jump out of your skin. but when you are released, you see the woman that can only be your fiancés mother, the only member of the family illumi had warned told you about prior to the visit. kikyo wears a large dress with an ostentatious petticoat and hat, and most notably a visor over where her eyes would be with one red glowing dot. her appearance is unsettling, and you find it a little difficult to force a smile when she greets you. illumi watches you from the side of his eye, his face unreadable.

just as kikyo is pulling away, something gleaming and silver and large is thrown right at your head, whizzing right by kikyo’s hat and slicing off a single hair from the feather on her hat. you don’t hesitate to lift your hand to your face and catch the sword immediately, the blade slicing your hand- but you don’t flinch as the blood seeps onto the blade and down your arm. you tilt your head to the side to see your assailant is silva, his arm still poised in throwing position. his expression grows less stony once he sees you’ve caught his weapon.

there’s a moment of icy silence, you lowering the weapon to your side, and silva watches you even more intently before uttering a flat “welcome to the family.” with that, he and his father turn and disappear elsewhere inside the mansion. kikyo, though, takes this as her cue to immediately grab you so you two can walk by yourselves throughout the mansion. illumi doesn’t look super pleased to see his mother take you, but he knows better than to try and stop her.

you two are navigating the long, hollow corridors of the zoldyck home. you pass many unsettling family pictures and paintings as well as various weapons like swords and arrows on the walls, and several human sculptures that seem a little too realistic. you’re also sure that you pass at least two torture chambers. it’s an eerie atmosphere, which was what you’d expected, but it doesn’t help your nerves.

kikyo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your apprehension, and instead starts talking about how much she’s wanted a daughter and how thrilled she is to finally have a “daughter” to take in. but then she grows eerily serious. she talks about how you’ll be expected to be the next lady of the house and, since you’re becoming a zoldyck, how you’ll have to follow the same codes they do as a family and exhibit the same values- which makes you antsy. the woman clearly seems a bit unhinged. you’re relieved when the walk ends and you’re returned to your fiancé, who gestures for you to take his arm again. illumi’s mother’s mood changes drastically yet again and she storms off, shrieking to her husband that it’s rude for him to walk off after hardly having said anything.

now you and illumi are left with the four other children- the white-haired boy, the girl with long hair, the boy with short hair and purple-pink eyes, and a homely fat boy behind the three younger ones. he holds a small console in front of his face and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence. illumi introduces them to you.

“y/n, i’d like you to meet my siblings,” illumi states in his usual manner, walking slowly towards them. gesturing to the white-haired boy, he says, “this is my brother, killua. i call him kil.” he looks down at his brother with an eerie smile and black eyes like pits, but killua keeps his stony gaze straight ahead. his hand rests on the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

“this is my youngest brother, kalluto,” illumi continues, placing a large hand on top of the boy’s head. his hands remain folded in front of him, and he gives you a polite nod. looking toward the fat boy behind kalluto, his expression slightly curling into one of disdain, illumi tells you, “and this is the second oldest, milluki.” milluki doesn’t acknowledge you at all, which seems to visibly irritate illumi, but he doesn’t reprimand the boy.

you’re confused when illumi doesn’t introduce the girl, and you glance up at him in confusion. “illumi, what about her?” you look down at the girl in front of killua, who looks surprised for a second, and so does killua behind her. “you forgot to tell me her name. she’s a beautiful little girl.” you manage a small smile, leaning down slightly to stroke the girl’s hair. her blue eyes sparkle with joy, and killua looks up at you as well, looking a little confused but also very relieved. “your mother said she had no daughters.”

illumi’s eyes lower ever so slightly, giving him a dismissive look. “she doesn’t,” he answers flatly, and his tone makes you feel like that’s the end of the discussion. you’re definitely lost- but you suppose it’s something illumi will have to fill you in on later. you glance sideways at illumi, hand still resting in the girl’s hair. she definitely doesn’t seem to mind you, and killua appears to have warmed up to you as well. milluki’s vanished elsewhere and kalluto watches the whole exchange from the corner of his eye.

suddenly you all hear kikyo call for illumi, who immediately stands up upon hearing his name. “you will remain here until i return.” he tells you, his tone no-nonsense, and heels clicking he makes his way down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the kids.

the second illumi is out of earshot, the girl brightens up. “hi!” she chirps, bouncing on her feet excitedly. “my name is alluka!”

you’re slightly startled, but you smile at the girl anyway and tell her hi, still wondering why illumi seems so detached from this girl in particular.

killua seems to read your mind. “i know what you’re thinking,” he tells you, not unkindly. “listen, my family doesn’t like alluka much- and they refer to her with male pronouns. just go along with it in front of them. it’s safer for you.” he pauses, then looks down. “but thanks for being nice to her.”

you frown and nod, deciding not to ask any more questions about it. kalluto still hasn’t said anything, but somehow you don’t feel like this boy will be anything to worry about.

with alluka and killua having warmed up to you, you get into a conversation, and kalluto eventually offers a few words after awhile- although never acknowledging alluka directly. most of it is basically killua wondering how the hell you managed to get engaged to someone like illumi.

“No way he didn’t force you to go out with him.”

“What the hell do you even see in that guy? He’s batshit crazy- and he’s definitely not a model.”

“How’d he propose? Did he try to kill you and you survived?”

“‘Man, you really gotta be messed up for Illumi to like you.”

“What even made him wanna get married to you? What even made you wanna get married to him?”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“And you said yes? You’re crazy!”

that’s all i got :3 hope u enjoyed <33

#anime #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter #hisoka x reader #illumi x reader #illumi zolydck x reader smut #reader x illumi zoldyck #reader x illumi #illumi zoldyck x you #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck headcanons #hunter x hunter illumi #illumi hxh #hxh imagines

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tteokdoroki · 11 months ago

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Hi! I’d like to enter the Bumble Swipe Right Event! Izuku as my fave, my ideal gift would be a card and jewelry, and i wanna swipe spicy!

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — IZUKU MIDORIYA. swipe spicy: decorated.

about. boom, it’s a match! izuku loves to see you decorated in all of the riches he can afford. he especially loves the anklet that he got you, and the way it dangles when he makes you see stars ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, mating press, unprotected sex, orgasm control, pro hero deku, fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event ! ( closed )

izuku midoriya has always had an eye for jewellery, especially when it comes to you.

whenever he returns from missions, the number one hero is always sure to bring back an item of jewellery to make up for lost time. whether it be a beaded pearl necklace from a seaside town that he’d saved, or diamond earrings from an embassy member abroad. izuku never came back empty handed — even if it meant he had to buy you something. he liked seeing you decorated in the fruits of his success as one of japan’s ( and the world’s ) top heroes.

it’s like his own personal marking, a sign of his belonging to you, and you to him.

yet izuku could drape you in all the glitter and gold in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough to showcase how much he adores you. there aren’t enough riches in the world to spoil you with and… that’s okay. you seem perfectly content with what you have now, especially the anklet he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day. the one with the little ‘I’ and ‘M’ charms you’d gotten with it.

the one that dangles above your head when izuku passionately pounds into you after returning from a particularly stressful mission abroad.

“g-god, i missed you s’much. missed this sweet little pussy. oh fuck!” forest green curls tickle at the underside of your chin from where izuku has nestled his head against your neck, his lips work shades of deep purples and midnight blue/ into the saltiness of your skin — teething and biting at its soft expanse until you’re decorated with a necklace of love bites. “you…oh angel…you get so tight when i fold you up like this,” he laments in satisfaction, feeling your sluice and sloppy sex ripple around his thick cock with every calculated thrust. “you must have really…really missed me.”

the pro hero uses the strength he’s built up over the ears to fuck into you properly — the force behind his hips sending you jolting up the bed. when he pulls away from the loving assault on your neck, a pinkish hue mingles with the galaxy of freckles dotted across deku’s face, cheeks pink from the exertion. his cockhead is in no better condition, bright red, angry and hot as it smears precum along your ravaged walls.

“m-missed you s’much izu, please!”

as a reward, he bullies you nice and open for him — heavy breeders balls clapping against the plush flesh of your ass so hard that your entire body shakes as a result. with all of izuku’s muscle and weight on top of you, you feel as though you can’t breathe — like he’s choking you out from the inside as he uses your creamy cunt to his hearts content. he keeps your knees pressed into your shoulders, ankles haphazardly thr

own over his broader ones which only spread you further.

the anklet he’d given you shakes under your sinful ministrations, catching in the low light of your bedroom while deku makes love to you on sex soiled sheets. “you look so…pretty when i ruin you like this, have you spread open like this,” he whispers lovingly, contrasting with the harsh manner in which his thick dick pumps in and out of your slick heat. “and this, watching it sway from how hard i’m fucking you…angel, all of it drives me insane.” izuku’s nose nudges it’s way up your calf, plump pink lips teasingly making their way up to the golden anklet dangling from your foot.

rhythmic thrusts soon because salacious grinds, izuku never relenting on how he deep he fucks into you. all you can do is lay there uselessly, taking cock, taking praise, taking love from midoriya as he puts his all into making you reach cloud nine. his thumb draws circles over your cute clit, his hooded evergreen eyes trained on the way your pussy pulsates and spurts little streams of juices around him. as though she’s laying her claim on his thick, shaft covered with spiralling blue veins.

opaque white paints izuku’s tummy, a crude mix of his precum and your sweet nectar smearing over his abdomen contracting as it contracts against your sex. “think i’m gonna cum,” you wail sweetly, keening into his touch as you look up at your pro hero boyfriend with big wet eyes. “please let me cum. please ‘zu, i’ll be good!”

izuku only tuts in response, kissing your ankle before he takes the chain of your anklet between the perfect rows of his pearly white teeth.

“you’ll cum when i say so, angel.” the green haired hero drawls softly, yet condescendingly. he makes extra effort in showing off his award winning smile with the chain in his mouth in order to distract you from the slight change in the way deku angles his hips — his bulbous and leaky cockhead never leaving your sticky g-spot. “and i’m far from done with you, tonight.”

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princesskenny1998 · 3 months ago

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One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x female!reader ~ Weird

The Thousand Sunny rocked gently with the waves, sunlight sparkling off the ocean as the Straw Hat Pirates went about their usual tasks. You were leaning against the railing, eyes scanning the horizon, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sound of the waves. Luffy had joined you, his usual goofy grin plastered on his face, but every now and then, he’d steal glances at you with a gleam in his eye.

He stepped closer, casually draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. It was a familiar feeling, something that had been natural between you two since you were teenagers. Luffy’s antics usually leaned on the childlike side, full of excitement and laughter. But you’d come to know that underneath all of that was a side of him that was both surprisingly mature and completely devoted.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, “I’m glad you’re here with me. I’d get bored without you.” His tone was warm, and his gaze softened, catching you off guard with how intense his eyes could be when he looked at you this way.

You chuckled, leaning into his embrace. “Bored, huh? I guess it’s my job to keep things interesting for you, Captain.”

He grinned and tugged you a little closer, and before you could react, he tilted his head down, catching your lips in a quick, playful kiss. The kiss was short but sweet, and when he pulled away, he was still smiling, a boyish blush dusting his cheeks. It was one of those moments that showed a side of him not everyone got to see. And though he would never say it outright, his actions spoke volumes—he loved you fiercely, even if he expressed it in his own unique way.

Zoro, who had been training nearby, suddenly stopped mid-swing, glancing over with a raised eyebrow. “Oi… am I seeing things, or did Luffy just act like a normal guy for a second?”

Sanji, polishing his cooking knives, let out a small scoff. “It’s weird, right? Seeing Luffy acting all… boyfriend-y.”

“Can’t blame him,” Sanji added after a pause, his gaze flicking to you with an approving nod. “She’s got that effect."

Luffy turned to his crewmates, a lazy smile on his face, completely unbothered by their comments. He held you a bit closer, his chin resting on the top of your head. “What? She’s my girlfriend,” he said simply, his words filled with a matter-of-fact confidence that made you smile. “Why wouldn’t I kiss her?”

Brook chuckled, his bony hands clasped in delight. “Ah, young love! I remember what it’s like to have a pretty lady to hold.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel old, though?” Nami teased, folding her arms with a smirk. “I mean, it’s strange seeing our Luffy like this.”

Robin only chuckled, a mysterious smile on her lips. “I think it’s sweet. He shows sides of himself that we don’t usually get to see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro muttered, turning away with a huff. “It’s still weird.”

You rolled your eyes at the banter but couldn’t help grinning. Luffy may have been the most unpredictable captain, but he was also the most genuine. Sometimes his crewmates would catch glimpses of the quiet way he’d rest his hand on your back, the intense, heated gaze he’d give you when he thought no one was looking, or the soft, thoughtful way he’d listen to you talk about your dreams.

In fact, those quiet moments often took you by surprise, too—moments when Luffy’s childlike wonder melted away, and you could see a depth in his eyes that went far beyond his usual carefree nature. He had been a pillar of strength for you just as you had for him, and over the years, you realized that he understood far more than he let on.

That evening, as the stars began to dot the sky and the crew relaxed on the deck, Luffy found his way to you once more. He settled down beside you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly. You noticed the warmth in his gaze, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, grounding you both in the quiet companionship you had shared since you were kids.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied, but his gaze stayed on you, a mischievous smile curving his lips. “But you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks, laughing softly. “Luffy, you can be so cheesy.”

He shrugged, unashamed, a proud grin on his face. “Only for you.”

It was moments like these that sometimes left the crew gawking. Luffy, who could be so simple-minded and distracted most of the time, had this way of shifting, of letting his attention linger on you, bringing out a side of him that was, if only for a second, quieter, more mature.

And the crew couldn’t deny that sometimes they caught Luffy looking at you with a longing that seemed beyond his years, a reminder that their captain, for all his innocence and humor, was also just a man in love.

In one of those rare quiet nights, Luffy pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He didn’t say anything for a while, simply holding you and listening to the sounds of the sea. Finally, he spoke, his voice a soft whisper in the darkness.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re safe,” he murmured, his words laced with an unexpected seriousness. “I want you to be with me. Always.”

It wasn’t often that he spoke this way, but when he did, it struck you deep. You knew Luffy would go to any lengths for the people he loved, and he was determined to keep you by his side, through thick and thin.

As the crew prepared to turn in for the night, they watched the two of you with a mixture of awe and amusement, still surprised to see their captain in such an affectionate, even protective light.

Sanji lit a cigarette, exhaling thoughtfully. “Never thought I’d see Luffy so… serious.”

“Believe it or not, even Luffy has a heart that runs deep,” Robin said, a soft smile on her face. “And she seems to be the one who brings it out of him.”

Nami chuckled, giving you a knowing look. “Guess it just goes to show there’s a lot more to Luffy than meets the eye.”

You caught their glances and smiled, squeezing Luffy’s hand, feeling his fingers tighten around yours. His gaze softened, and with a simple kiss to your forehead, he reminded you—and everyone else—that he was your captain, your partner, and your best friend.

The sea stretched endlessly before you, an adventure waiting for you both, and with Luffy by your side, you knew that there was no place you’d rather be.

#monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece reader insert #one piece

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pinkusmaximus · 4 months ago

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Sis! Now I need a full on fic for Logan x Fem!Reader x Wade with the whole pregnancy thing! I love the trio and I can just see Logan’s wheels always turning, trying to pin point the scent difference, why he’s so touchy and clingy. Then when it comes out both men are 10 x more clingy! Dotting on their woman hand and foot, taking care of her when she’s sick or hurting from the added weight and her symptoms. I can see one of them standing behind her and they just put their hands under her belly and they just lift it up some to relieve the pressure on her and she’s just IMMENSELY relieved

Oh, I’m not sure if I’m in a state for a full fic right now (I work and when I’m not working I’m in school) but I can elaborate more for sure!

🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀

You would absolutely be the most spoiled, protected pregananant person in the world. In fact, they’d have to start taking turns with missions, because one of them would need to be at home with you at all times from the moment it’s confirmed by your doctor. Not that you really needed the confirmation, with the way Logan lives with his face pressed into your neck the moment it clicks for him that the lovely warm scent that mixed with your usual sweetness and lingered after you were long gone is due to the little life inside you.

Wade is a lot more hesitant at first. He’s overwhelmed with how happy he feels at the news, and that alone is enough to scare him. Logan’s too caught up in his protective instincts to think logically about the fact that you really are in quite a dangerous situation, but Wade’s all too attuned to the myriad of ways you and the baby could be hurt because of them and the lifestyle they’ve chosen. You’ll never see him so cautious. He comes home with less injuries than ever (though not insignificant, but it’s Wade), not wanting to cause you any undue stress after he reads how bad stress can be on you and the baby (because yes, he’s secretly started hoarding a stash of pregnancy books and magazines from the moment he saw those two blue lines).

And trust me, the moment that you start to show, things will only amp up from there. That’s when reality starts to set in— this is happening. They’re going to be dads.

Now that Logan has an explanation for his odd behaviors from before, it becomes much easier to manage them for the three of you. You and Wade understand his instinctual need to keep you close, so you start to mind it less when he gently tugs you over to him in his lounge chair from the couch, keeping his broad hands over the expanse of your belly and his head on your shoulder where he can keep that comforting aroma in his senses. It also means that it’s easier for him to allow you to relax with Wade, his instincts now accepting Wade as a fellow protector, rather than a threat.

Wade loves laying his head on your stomach for as long as he’s physically able to, your hands lovingly caressing his head as he talks to the baby about anything and everything, for as long as you’ll let him go on— or until he falls asleep, feeling a deep sense of comfort from being so close to you and the baby. Every other sentence is punctuated by enthusiastic kisses to your growing roundness, slowly becoming softer and more tender as his rambling shifts from making up stupid nicknames for the unborn child and telling them all the ridiculous ways he’s going to teach them to get into trouble, to soft murmurs of how good of a parent you’re going to be, how much he already loves them, how he can’t wait to see Logan act like a real daddy, how he can’t wait to be their daddy, too. And once you’re too big for him to lay his head down, he’ll just rest his head on your thighs instead, dotingly rubbing his hands all over stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his fingertips and admiring your physical and mental strength for carrying their child.

When you get to spend time with both of them, it’s usually on the couch or in bed now. You’re exhausted all the time, so lucky you that you’ve got two men who would never let your feet touch the ground if that’s what it took to keep you happy. You’re always laying with your head in someone’s lap, having your hairline lightly brushed by soothing fingertips, your feet and calves massaged by strong hands. You’ve always got someone to run and get you what you’re craving, someone to help you shower when you can’t see your feet anymore, someone to hold you when you’re crying because your hormones are too much and you’re thinking too much about the impending pains of birth. Bonus, that also means you’ve got two hands to crush in your death grip when you need it— and you don’t have to worry about breaking their bones.

A pregnancy with Wade and Logan may be tumultuous in some ways, but in all the ways that count, you couldn’t ask for a more perfect family.

#sorry for rambling I’m at work #tw pregnancy #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #deadpool x reader #deadpool x wolverine #poolverine x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader

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sold2vlaykz · 3 months ago

Text

AI-uploaded.

Prompt:Tesla has officially made robots the new thing! Everyone has one, what happens when you get your very own?

You’ve never enjoyed the idea of robots taking over the world, or humans already having control of it.

You didn’t understand why war or anything happened why couldn’t we all just make out or chill, something jeez.

Though you needed some extra help around the place, sure you didn’t like the thought of someone or something you didn’t know being around your house and handling things.

But you couldn’t clean, take care of your animals, and work too.

So you bought one, a Tesla fucking robot. You remember them advertising the blank faced thing on tv.

Making it more ‘acceptable’ by giving it a voice.

Though the damn things still had words on its face, so they’d be accessible for deaf people even going as far to teach them sign language.

Some have moveable braille. They come in colors, brown, pink, yellow, anything you could think of.

Now it’s not that you were excited, happy or even relieved. You thought of it as a burden because now you’d have to go to a Tesla socket and plug the damn thing up.

You already brought the damn robot there’s no way you would buy the charger too.

Did it look like you had thousands of dollars laying around?

No.

You only brought this so you could get some sleep and not hear your dog crying all the damn time.

So here you were, jaw to the floor as another robot carried the thousand pound box to your living room. A man in the car reading what looked like mail.

The robot walked out of your house, making small talk as it left.

The robot came full pieced, all you had to do was power it on.

It was just like a cellphone almost, it came charged.

It took the strength of every bone in your body to stand the damn thing up straight, your hands wondered on the shiny thing trying to find the damn button.

“Hello?”

A voice spoke, you jumped back. The thing was on, you didn’t even know what you pressed.

“How did you umm, turn on?”

You stuttered over your words as if examined itself, twisting its hands in front of where eyes should be.

“Eye recognition.”

You gasped, you remember when Apple did its eye thing but who knew they partnered with Elon musk?

It muttered your name before tilting its head up to you.

“What shall I do as your service?”

You coughed clearing your throat, feeling uneasy because it was harder to read this stoic thing than a human.

“Just feed my pets, keep the house clean. Easy job. When you’re done you can do whatever.”

It nodded before scanning the house, its head doing a weird observing tilt.

“Where are these ‘pets.’ Currently and what are they?” There was a weird pause between you two.

“They’re outside, let them in-in two hours, let them out every four. They’re dogs.”

It hummed before nodding its head

Immediately going to do what it was told to.

“You don’t have to now, I’ve already done everything. Just do it when I can’t.”

It froze in place a beep sound coming from it, it face had some weird dots on it coming in connecting circles with the words on the bottom ‘loading.’

“Then what was the point of my purchase if I am to just do what you didn’t manage to do, but usually do?”

You shrugged your shoulders, before passing it the remote.

“Here’s some TV, try not to fuck your mind.”

Another boop, and another loading screen.

“Fuck my mind, I assume you are trying to metaphorically tell me not to mess up my mind the same way others use the term fucked up.”

You paused, you held your laughter in your throat.

“Uh yeah, sure dude.”

You jogged upstairs leaving the vessel of wires on your couch clicking through the feed.

You went to get ready for work, you had already took a shower earlier that day so all you had to do was get your clothes and necessities.

You grabbed your purse and began scattering through your dresser drawer, you sighed and realized that finding your keys would’ve been a hassle.

So you moved on and decided you’d do that last.

You put on your work clothes, the uncomfortable texture made you feel cold, you grabbed some shoes, something dirty, or fucked up so you didn’t have to mess up anything else.

You grabbed your purse and threw your phone inside, you jogged down the stairs only to see the robot gone.

“Uh, robot?”

You heard nothing, no response. The horn outside repeatedly beeping made the suspense worse.

You walked into the kitchen only to see the robot sitting near the counter pressing the button on the keys.

“God you found it!”

You jogged up to him or it and snatched the keys. It sensed your annoyance.

“I am sorry, I suppose I got distracted.”

You cut him some slack, you knew what it was like to get distracted when you had things to do. But a robot? What good was it if it couldn’t do what it was designed for?

“Listen, just watch after the house. It’s fine, I’ll see you in 12.”

You headed out the door, and went towards your car. A twelve hour shift was practically voluntary slavery.

—————

You sighed, home sweet home.

Your back muscles were tensed, body sore snd feet cramped. You groaned as you stepped out the car, picking up your purse was another burden because of the weight it held.

You didn’t feel like rummaging for your key.

Never thought you’d say it but thank fucking God for Elon musk.

You dragged your limp body up the steps before three harsh knocks. A deeper voice answering you.

“Hello, who is it?”

“Your owner.”

You responded, he recognized your voice and opened the door immediately.

“Good morning, how was your day-”

You walked passed him, throwing your purse to the ground nor caring about your phone.

You didn’t even bother to take off your shoes on the freshly cleaned carpet floor.

You noticed your two dogs sleep in the dog bed with their bowls full near them and that’s all you needed. Though there had been a little piece of metal in its mouth,

Normally anyone else would’ve been concerned but your dogs had a weird kink for biting its cage apart.

You let out a hefty sigh and closed your eyes before telling the robot to lock the door.

————

Your eyes fluttered open by the sound of clashing, you immediately took a look to your left, your dogs were sound asleep.

You stood up, knowing that the damn robot had got itself into something or stuck.

Though when you stood you couldn’t help but notice your shoes off and your purse gone.

Did the damn thing rob you?

“Hello?”

You called it before hearing the now famous loading boop.

“Up here.”

Its voice had been blank, as if it simply fell and understood it couldn’t get up.

You walked up the stairs a little nervous if you had to be honest, you didn’t know what you were to see.

You pushed your door open before seeing the robot on the ground its left hand covering its right forearm.

Electricity seemed to be buzzing from it, anyone could tell it was injured.

“What the hell happened?”

You yelled, loading screen once again.

“I went to let your animals in and they attacked me, I suppose they feared I was an intruder and tried to protect the home.”

You gasped before kneeling to its side before wondering one thing.

“How’d you manage to get away?”

You had to ask, you had two, two hundred forty-pound dogs.

“When it bit me I climbed up the rails into your room.”

The thought of the robot clinging to your walls like Spider-Man unnerved you but God you couldn’t let your thousand dollar investment go to waste.

“How much is it going to cost to fix you?”

You asked, a sigh leaving your lips.

“ a few thousands of dollars, though I wouldn’t mind waiting.”

You sighed before grabbing some cloth and wrapping its arm tightly so no bolts or wires would fall out of its joints.

“You’re laying in my bed.”

The robot let out an audible gasp,

“I wouldn’t want to burden you-”

You ignored what it said and repeated yourself before helping it into the bed.

You sighed.

“I should’ve just stayed home, but thank you for helping me.”

The robots head turned to you in a creepy way, unsettling and you knew it was something you’d have to get used too.

“No need to thank me- Battery low. - That’s what I’m here for.”

You sighed knowing you’d had to drive to a charger tomorrow and work extra hard to get it fixed and pay for the bills and your animals.

“Goodnight- Power off-”

You sighed before nuzzling into the covers.

“Goodnight. Robot.”

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slightly-knot-insane · 3 months ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you could do any wlw or mlm monsterfucking :3 If not, that's all good! I love your works sm!!! Have a nice day 🫶

Flavourful

Monstertober 2024 - day 21 [ Undead ] by @ozzgin

[ fem!upir* x fem!reader ]

*'Vampires' and 'upirs' are pretty much the same, but since vampire was overtaken by the western culture, I prefer the expression 'upir'. Slavic upirs aren't afraid of the sunlight, but they are scared of crosses, fire and objects made of hawthorn. They can even live normal lives and have kids, but they are not imortal. They drink blood and harass people if they feel like it though lol.

content: blood, squirting, fingering, oral

You haven't visited a butcher's shop in a long time, and you really didn't expect to see a beautiful young woman working there. She greeted you with a smirk, completely ignoring the man who was in the line before you. Guy stuttered in shock but she just glared at him to shut him up. With a threat he'll complain to the manager, the girl scoffed and turned again to you.

"What will it be, sweetheart?" she asked you with a wink.

She was a bit too forward for your taste, but you still blushed. She was incredibly charming, even in that bloodied apron. She took your order and chopped the meat with a cleaver using the strength of a lumberjack. And she was really putting on a show. Finally, she wrapped the pork and gave it to you not breaking eye contact.

You paid for the meat and finished shopping... but couldn't stop thinking about the butcher. You almost ran back to her. She greeted you with a smile, as if she was expecting you.

"Would you like to come to my place... for dinner? My address is..."

And she accepted, as you knew she would. Before she washed her bloodied hands, you could've sworn she licked her fingers clean.

She came right on time, bold and beautiful. As soon as she entered, she sniffed the air. "You... didn't prepare anything?"

You opened your shirt and showed her your naked torso. "I washed my neck for you."

The cocky woman - or rather upir - shook her head in shock. "You... know?"

"I saw you lick off the blood. Upirs often work as butchers, I heard. Also, I'm never this attracted to anyone. I just connected the dots. I don't mind. I'm really into it, actually."

Looking at your naked body, she licked her lips and that was the first time you've seen her sharp teeth. She slowly approached you and touched your collar bone. "Well, well. So the dinner is you?"

"And breakfast," you replied, kissing the tips of her fingers.

In the next few hours, those fingers entered your pussy many times, pleasuring you. She managed to keep you dripping wet throughout the night. You moaned and trembled while her mouth kissed your folds, and her inhumanely long tongue prodded your entrance. "Oh fuck... fuck, your tongue... aaaah..." You orgasmed hard, and she made sure it was the longest orgasm you have ever experienced.

She then rode your face, rubbing her clit against your lips and nose, breathing heavily and panting. She held herself by your bedframe and it creaked under her strong grip. "You're so good... so warm..." She was all red, from mouth downward, between her breasts to her navel. Your blood and her drool mixing on her skin. You pinched her dark nipple and fucked her undead cunt with you mouth and finger until she came all over your face, squirting pink liquid.

She then jumped on you, with an animalistic growl and bit your neck. You melted into your pillows, sweating, almost choking from delight, while she sucked your blood and fingered you for what seemed hours. "The blood tastes like a liqueur when my partners are close to orgasm", she explained it to you in the morning. "Different blood tastes like different liqueurs." She edged you until your blood reached the perfect flavour and she was no longer thirsty.

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bobohu4eva · 6 months ago

Text

Golden

Part 1/2

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: College AU, Baekhyun as an adorable art student and campus heartthrob, shy OC, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, angst, eventual smut

WC: 8.3k

Warnings: Harassment, alcohol consumption

Masterlist

The streets of Seoul set your mind ablaze in all their bright, manicured chaos.

It had been three years since your first time in the city, but again it sucked you right in without as much as a glimpse of hesitation. Not unlike you with a bowl of your favorite ramyun.

The American midwest had its charms, if you looked hard enough, but your eyes were getting tired. The city had always been more your speed, and Seoul was, in your mind, the absolute best there was. When the opportunity finally came to spend your last year of college at Korea University you eagerly took it.

No matter the area, the time of day, or one's specific interests, there was always a good chance that something uniquely enticing was just around the corner, waiting to be discovered. Getting bored wasn’t an option, even for those who might crave it every now and then.

Patience, like boredom, was not on the menu in Seoul either. Ppalli-ppalli is what they call it, ‘quickly-quickly, the culture that drives the city to cater perfectly to the needs of those as antsy, or really just anxious, as yourself. It’s hard to overthink for hours when there is so much constantly changing and happening around you, demanding your attention. You found that profoundly comforting.

Independence had always been a strength of yours, so the first several weeks flew by, but by the third week, and then the fourth, even you got a little lonely.

After a few years studying the language, your Korean was decent. Passable. But fluent, you were not. Ordering in restaurants, reading directions and street signs, that was no problem, but having to make any kind of meaningful conversation was humbling, to say the least.

It was a relief to finally get a roommate, Heejin, another senior at the university. She was thrilled to practice her English with you, and you your Korean with her.

Before you knew it the semester was starting, and right on your first day of classes, you noticed him. Surrounded by a large group of friends all laughing together, he was at the center in all his beauty.

It would be hard not to notice him, really, given his clothing. They were unusually colorful, in contrast to the muted neutrals most Koreans favor, and were often dotted with what looked like paint stains, mainly shades of yellow and gold. In the crowded lecture hall, he was a sliver of sunlight against the sea of black, brown, and gray.

He wore round glasses, which framed kind, puppy-like eyes the color of your favorite chocolate. The dark curls of his hair were perfectly fluffy, and his lips perfectly pink. Moles and freckles decorated his nose and cheeks generously.

You struggled not to stare. He was just so pretty. Especially when you saw him smile. Just the sight of him laughing at a joke you hadn’t even heard, brought a smile to your face.

He was shining, glowing, radiating so much warmth you’d blissfully forgotten the still looming chill of early spring.

“That’s Baekhyun, he’s a studio arts major, pretty much every girl I know has a crush on him. I get it, though, he is super cute, he seems really nice, too, though I don’t really know him myself.” Heejin told you, when you asked about him that same evening.

Against your better judgment, or any rational thought, really, you let yourself be drawn to him, taking your seat the next day in the row directly in front of his. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it, listening in on him and his friends' conversations before class started. He was whitty, charming, and effortlessly funny, though he never made jokes at anyone else’s expense, like his friends did. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, just like your roommate had said. And basically every girl on campus saw it too, along with how devastatingly cute he was.

Despite feeling relatively confident in the subject matter of all your classes, you still did your best to fade into the background and avoid being called on by the professors. Trying to sound smart and confident wasn’t something your Korean skills (or still slightly fragile psyche) were up to yet.

But as fate would have it, you couldn’t avoid talking in class forever. At the end of the second week, during your last class of the day, you were called on to answer something pretty simple, yet you still ended up stumbling over your words, sounding awkward at best.

You easily picked up on the snide comments and snickers coming from the girls behind you. Back home you would’ve thrown her a mean side eye at the very least, but now you just kept your head down. Making enemies so early on here couldn’t be a good idea. Not only that, but you knew Baekhyun would be witness to all of it.

“Sumin, it took you three tries to pass elementary English, talking about someone else’s language skills is wild.”

His voice was just as lovely as the rest of him, so you didn’t even have to turn around to be sure who’d said it, but you still did. There was a small reassuring smile on his lips, and a pout on hers. He’d said it so casually, like it was nothing, but it definitely meant a hell of a lot to you.

She was gorgeous, and you’d wondered in the past if there was something going on between them. But Baekhyun didn't appear all that impressed with her, at least not the way she clearly was with him.

You kept replaying it in your mind, until finally class was over, and you headed quickly towards the door, worried you’d be hearing more rude comments.

“Hey! Y/n, right?”

“Huh?” Too shocked to fully react, you spun around to see him walking straight towards you.

“I’m Baekhyun, sorry about my friend earlier. You’re an exchange student, right?” His English was nearly perfect, the slight accent he had making him sound even more endearing.

“Yeah… Thank you, by the way. How do you know my name?”

“Well, you do kind of stand out. In a good way though.”

He was grinning, looking gorgeous as ever, even in a simple red tshirt and jeans, dotted with the usual colorful specks of paint. Now that he was standing so close to you, you got a good idea of how tall he was, and although he wasn’t the biggest, most muscular guy you’d ever seen, his shoulders were surprisingly broad, and his arms looked sturdy. As your eyes stayed glued to his form, your mind wandered off, thinking about how lovely it must feel to get a hug from him.

It occurred to you then that he must’ve asked someone about you, the same way you’d asked about him.

“I do?” You asked, starting to make your way towards the building’s exit.

“Well, yeah, there are other foreigners going here too of course, but I’m sure most of them don’t get as much attention as you.”

You blushed, not wanting to read into it too deeply, but you wondered if that was his way of telling you that he thought you were cute.

“I don’t know about that…”

“So, where are you headed now?” He asked, holding the door as you both left the building.

“Back to my dorm, that was my last class of the day.”

“Same, can I walk with you?”

“Sure, it’s a little far though.”

He shrugged, “I don't mind.”

As he accompanied you across campus, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so nice. He seemed like a nice person, of course, but he didn’t know you at all. You weren’t even an artsy type like he was.

“You’re an art student, right? Is that why some of your clothes have paint on them?”

He nodded, a big beautiful smile on his face. “My favorite is oil paints, and they stain like crazy so now I just let it happen, I kinda like the way it looks.”

“I like it too.”

“Yeah? Maybe I could paint on your clothes too sometime.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think I could pull it off.”

“What? Of course you could, if I can then you definitely can.” He teased, swaying slightly as he took his next step, letting his shoulder brush your own.

It was troublingly easy for him to make you blush, and you hoped he didn’t notice just how flustered he was making you, without even really doing anything.

“What about you? What's your major?”

“International business, I've wanted to move here for years, and that major was recommended to me for this exchange program.”

“Well, I'm glad you finally made it.” He grinned, warm and lovely, and if you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought that he was flirting with you. “You're from America, right?”

You nodded.

“What made you want to move to Korea?”

“My favorite professor back in the states was Korean, she told me that she thought I would do well here, and introduced me to the culture, the language, all of it. I eventually came here for a week-long spring break thing, and ended up liking it a lot.”

Even from the outer echelons of your gaze, his smile was still bright as ever, those beautiful kind eyes fixated on you with intent. You couldn’t look back at him, not yet, your fragile heart needed time. He wondered why the architecture of the surrounding buildings suddenly became of such keen interest to you.

“What about you? Why art?”

He shrugged, “I've always been the creative type, ever since I was a kid. I can’t really imagine doing anything else at this point.”

“I'd love to see some of your work, if you'd be willing to show me.”

“Of course!” His face lit up even more, somehow, and he immediately pulled out his phone, opening up a photo album of his recent projects and handing it to you.

You assumed he’d be pretty good just based on how popular he was, but when you got a good look at some of his work, it stopped you dead in your tracks. You froze, swiping through some of the pictures, speechless.

“Do you like them?”

You let out a short laugh, more in disbelief than anything else. “Are you kidding? These are amazing, you’re so talented.”

Most of his paintings were dreamlike scenes bathed in yellow and gold, bright shapes and colors coming through in the most beautiful ways, creating so much atmosphere and movement, even just through the screen of his phone. They all depicted people, mostly women, just going about their normal lives, but the colorful and abstract nature of his style made it all so much more alluring to look at. Without a doubt, he had a real gift.

He just shrugged, “I do my best.”

You were a little disappointed to reach your dorm so soon, and have to tell him goodbye, though he assured you he would see you in class. For the first time, you actually looked forward to it, the promise of seeing him and his wonderful smile again making all of your previous uncertainty melt into comparative irrelevance.

When the next class period came around, you’d expected to hear him sit down behind you with the rest of his friends. You did hear his friends sit down, talking among themselves, but he walked right past them, sitting down next to you instead.

He started asking you about the homework, totally casual, and you had to act like you weren’t internally screaming the entire time. You acted as normal as you could, all the while feeling Sumin’s eyes like sharpened pencils stabbing into the back of your skull.

Eventually class started, and that took your mind off things at least a little, but as soon as the professor dismissed everyone Baekhyun was once again asking if he could walk you home, and of course, you agreed.

An awkward silence filled the air as you tried to find something to talk about, but just having him there next to you made you so embarrassingly shy, you could hardly think straight. As he held the door for you, that disgustingly sweet fluttering sensation filled your belly, and while familiar, you’d never experienced it to such a degree.

“Do you have a favorite painter?” You eventually blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind, and to your relief, he seemed excited to answer.

“Yeah! I mean, there are a ton that I love, but the one I’m most inspired by in my own work is Gustav Klimt, the way he combines art nouveau, with more classical and Japanese influences, it's so cool. I try to do something similar, but with a more Korean flair. He was really controversial during his time too, but he didn’t care and just did what he liked anyway.”

“Why was he controversial?”

“Well…” He cleared his throat, and you swore, for a second, it looked like he was blushing. For once, he wasn’t looking at you, seemingly avoiding eye contact himself. “Many of his really famous pieces are of women, usually without clothes on. There’s a lot of symbolism around sexuality and eroticism, so early 20th century Austria labeled his work as pornographic.”

“Oh?”

“Well it was the 1910’s!” He replied, maybe a little too quickly, “One rogue boob was enough to thoroughly scandalize them, you know what I mean, right?”

You smiled, comforted by the fact that he actually seemed to be the one getting flustered now. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Different time.”

“He was ahead of his time, for sure. That's one of the things I love about him and his work.”

He just kept gushing about the different pieces he liked best, showing them to you on his phone, talking about the different motifs and what it was about them that he loved. It was so sweet, his enthusiasm for it, and you took it all in happily.

You could listen to him talk about art all day long. You could see the sparkle in his eyes, the passion and excitement he had for it, and you were almost jealous of him, that he was so great at something that he loved so much. Sadly though, you soon made it back to your dorm again. However this time, when you turned to start walking up the steps, he stopped you.

“Wait, um, if you wouldn’t mind, could I get your number?”

You stared back at him for a minute, happy but surprised, before nodding. He handed you his phone and you added your contact, heart beating rapidly, trying your best not to look as excited as you felt.

When you reached your room, you saw the first text from him, one of the paintings he’d shown you. It was the same colorful yet overwhelmingly golden color scheme you’d seen in his own work, and depicted a man kissing a woman on the cheek. The racing of your heart took several minutes to return to a more normal pace.

As the semester went on, he always sat with you, and always walked you home. It took you another few weeks to really start opening up to him, but as you gradually did, his kind and warm demeanor made you feel at ease. He asked you about your family, your hobbies, whatever he could to get to know you better. You told him about your love for music, your favorite artists, and he always listened intently. He’d check out songs you recommended, and singers he’d never heard of, seeming as eager as you to get to meet again and discuss them more in depth.

Even as you talked to him about more personal matters, he never made you feel judged, always keeping an open heart and mind. That was another thing about him that you grew to admire.

You loved Seoul, and Korean culture, but learned that people could be more judgemental, and on the basis of quite superficial matters. Not only that, but these judgements were perfectly acceptable to express, adding an extra layer of pressure to everyday life. Baekhyun, however, didn’t partake in any of it.

Despite how attractive, popular, and as you came to learn, wealthy, he was, he never talked down to anyone. Jokes of that sort, that were normal to basically all of his friends, he wouldn’t react to, noticing the way he’d steer the conversation away from such topics when they came up.

He was accepting of everyone, regardless of their status, appearance, or various other factors. He was friends with basically everyone, too. As he’d walk with you he would always be greeting people left and right, giving everyone a smile and a friendly wave, never once ignoring someone or showing any condescension. He was just good.

His kindness, as lovely as it was, unfortunately also made you realize how not special you were to him. It was simply in his nature to be kind, even to those who might not deserve it, or could get the wrong idea. It was obvious how many girls had crushes on him, and though it never contained any malicious intent, he flirted with basically all of them. It was just part of his good nature. When he could tell someone liked him, he liked to make them happy. He never purposely misled anyone, or got their hopes up, but you still saw it happen time and time again. He would compliment a girl, and she would get all flustered, just like you had, wondering if maybe he really did like her, only to be disappointed when he did the same to her friend. If he wasn’t such a goddamn sweetheart he probably would've been labeled a playboy long ago, but everyone could clearly see that he wasn’t like that. Sleeping around wasn’t something he seemed to do either, though he definitely could’ve if he wanted to.

All of that being said, you still fell hard for him. It felt silly, being so infatuated and getting so flustered around him due to his sweet words, knowing that there wasn’t anything special about the way he treated you. He was that sweet to all of the girls, and you couldn’t even be mad at him for it, so you learned to hide how you felt. At least you wouldn’t end up looking like a fool that way.

Walking to class in the mornings always felt like such a chore, especially ever since Baekhyun had started to accompany you on your way back home everyday. You missed his company, and it was usually still quite cold, too, something you hated. Getting to listen to music uninterrupted was the only part that brought you some solace.

One morning was particularly stressful for you, having overslept the day before an exam, already late to the very necessary hour of studying you’d planned before going to your first class.

You were walking quicker than usual, headphones on, focused on making it to the library. However none of that seemed to deter the guy who started walking alongside you, now talking at you, motioning for you to take your headphones off.

Annoyed as you were, you didn’t want to be rude either. You took off the headphones, telling him, “Sorry, I’m kind of in a hurry.”

He didn’t seem to care, and when you started putting your headphones back on, he grabbed them from you.

You stared at him, clearly pissed off and in slight disbelief, but still, he just kept walking, now uncomfortably close to you. “I’m Jaeyong. I’ve seen you around, you’re really pretty. My dad basically owns this whole place, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” You tried to take your headphones back, but he kept them out of reach.

You’d seen him around campus too, surrounded by a posse of other rich kids, though they weren’t the kind Baekhyun associated with, and it was easy to see why. You immediately had a bad feeling about the guy.

“Can I get your number? We should go out sometime, I only date foreign girls. You guys are way less stuck up than the girls here, more open minded.”

Oh lord. You’d been warned about guys like him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, don’t be a bitch. At least give me your number.”

You ignored what he said, trying again to get ahold of your headphones, and he still refused to give them back.

“You’d be lucky to go on a date with someone like me, you know.”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Can I please get my headphones back now?”

“What? You have a boyfriend or something?”

He’d been following you long enough that you were already in front of the library, and you really didn’t want him to follow you inside. For your own sanity, but also to spare the other students the annoyance, knowing he likely still wouldn’t shut up.

Unfortunately when you didn’t go inside, he ended up backing you up to the side of the building, blocking you into a corner.

“You can get your headphones back if you agree to go on a date with me.” His face was so close to your own you could smell his breath, turning away from him, refusing to respond. “Come on Y/n. You know you want to.”

The greasy smirk on his face made you feel sick. You didn’t remember ever giving him your name.

“I really need to go study.”

“I said, don’t be a bitch. It would be really stupid of you to reject me.” He spat, a jarring change in his tone.

He was no longer smiling, either, clearly getting frustrated with you. Fear started to take over, and you decided you could get new headphones later, you just needed to get away. You tried to get past him, but his hand on your shoulder shoved you against the side of the building roughly, painfully, and panic quickly set in, tears forming in your eyes. He didn’t even seem to care that there were other people around, clearly confident nobody would bother to stop him.

He was talking again, and you could hear the malice in his voice, though you were too scared to even really tell what he was saying anymore, cheeks now wet, repeating again and again to please just leave you alone. Your shoulder ached, still being held against the brick wall hard enough that you knew it would bruise.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, shaking your head, and suddenly the hand on your shoulder was gone. You collapsed to the ground, only vaguely aware of the voices around you.

There was a cacophony of “Leave her alone”, “Mind your business”, “Fuck off”, and more coming from only a few feet away but you just sat slumped against the wall, wishing it would all go away.

The sudden touch from a pair of hands taking hold of your own made you jump. You finally opened your eyes again, and to your great relief, it wasn't the guy who’d been bothering you, it was Baekhyun.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

A pair of concerned eyes met your own, feeling his thumbs as they softly ran across the backs of your hands. You stared back at him, dumbfounded, too stunned to speak. He was crouched down in front of you where you still sat against the wall, the other man nowhere to be seen.

“Please say something.”

“I- I don’t know.”

You didn’t notice, but Baekhyun grew increasingly aware of the people starting to gather around. His grip on your hands tightened and he pulled you back up to your feet, disappearing into the library with you. He made his way into the first empty study room he could find, his hand still firmly holding your own.

Now that you knew you were actually safe the adrenaline finally began to wear off. Baekhyun pulled out a chair for you to sit, so you did, and he soon followed. He moved so he was facing you instead of the table, and you tried to do the same, but when you braced yourself against the table and put even the slightest pressure on it, pain shot up towards your shoulder, making you wince.

He caught on right away, moving your chair for you.

“Are you hurt?”

Embarrassment slowly took hold now that you’d come to realize the gravity of the situation. As much as you didn’t want him to worry about you, you knew you couldn’t just lie, either.

“It isn’t too bad, I’ll be okay.” You were avoiding his eyes, growing more and more shy by the second. “You should get to class, I need to study anyway.”

“What?”

The softness and confusion in his voice pierced through your heart, even with only that one word. He was moving closer, and you hadn't even realized that you were still crying, not until his thumb began to gently wipe your tears away.

You were painfully aware of the rapid increase in your heart rate, as well as the redness spreading across your cheeks. He was so close now, his hands delicate on your face, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes swimming with unease, still so worried about you.

His eyes moved to your shoulder, and his hand to the collar of your sweater.

“Can I..?”

You nodded, turning that side of your body towards him, and he slowly moved the fabric aside.

Seeing how his eyes widened, you looked down, and saw the blue and purple bruises for yourself.

“You are hurt. Let's get you to a nurse.” He said as he stood, but you stayed seated.

“Baekhyun, it's ok, I can go by myself later, you don't have to do all this.”

“Yeah, I do. I want to help.” He said, and held out his hand, beckoning you to get up and go with him. His eyes met yours, holding your gaze with intent. You couldn’t say no to him, not when he looked at you like that. His hand was warm when you finally took it, gratefully accepting his kindness, bashful as you were.

His hand stayed holding yours the entire way to the health services building. It wasn't far, but you still noticed the looks you got, especially from other girls.

You assumed that Baekhyun would leave for class once he dropped you off, but he didn't. He took a seat with you as you waited for your name to be called, and soon enough, you were being led down the hallway, with him still by your side.

“Sorry, your boyfriend can't come in the room with you.” Said the nurse, and you and Baekhyun exchanged nervous glances, though neither said anything to correct her..

He sat himself down in a nearby chair to wait, and you followed the nurse into the room. When you returned, he still wore that same nervous expression, asking, “How bad is it?”

His sweetness brought a long overdue smile to your face. “Not bad.” You said, and pulled your sweater aside to show him the tape and bandages. “No heavy lifting for a few weeks, and I should try not to move it too much, but nothing serious.”

Finally, you saw him ease up a bit, showing you a small smile as well. “Can I walk you to class?”

You nodded, and he was once again by your side as you headed across campus, though this time without his hand holding yours. As much as you tried to deny it, you missed the feeling. Once or twice you felt his hand brush up against your own, and you wondered if he was thinking the same thing, but you knew you shouldn’t get caught up in those kinds of thoughts.

“I don’t want to intrude, but if you’d like- I mean, if it would make you feel more comfortable, I could walk with you in the mornings, too, and between classes.”

As he said it his eyes were fixed on his hands, fidgeting with a ring he had on.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you late, or be a bother.”

“It’s no problem at all! Really, I think I would also feel better, just knowing that you’re safe.”

“Oh..I would like that, yeah.” You found yourself looking down at the pavement, blushing, mind once again wandering off, the sickly sweet feeling fluttering within you. When you turned onto a larger road, you didn’t miss the way his hand gently took hold of your good shoulder, positioning himself between you and the street.

You went on to text him your class schedule, and he happily agreed to walk with you wherever you needed to go, though you still found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t end up making himself late as a result. He seemed so happy to do it, though, you didn’t question him any further. When you thought about the very real possibility of running into Jaeyong again, you were grateful you’d have Baekhyun by your side.

He waved you goodbye when you got to class, and when it was over he was in the same spot, already waiting for you.

It went on like that for the rest of the day, with him being his usual wonderful self. You could tell that he was trying his best to brighten your day after it started so badly, and you appreciated it more than you could put into words. During your last class, he was joking around more than usual, complimenting you more, making you smile every chance he got. When it was finally time to say goodbye for the day back at your dorm, you didn’t want to let him go.

The next morning, true to his word, he was there waiting for you when you walked outside. Instead of heading towards campus, though, he insisted you sit down on the closest bench, “I have a surprise for you.” He said.

You played along, sitting down, following his directions to cover your eyes. He seemed to rummage around in his backpack for a minute, then set something down on your lap.

He gently took hold of your wrists, moving your hands aside, and you finally got a good look at the surprise he’d prepared.

It was a pair of headphones. The same model you’d had, but the newest version. Your old pair had been expensive enough, you almost couldn’t believe that he actually spent the money on a replacement.

“Do you like it? I tried to get your old pair back yesterday, but that asshole broke them.”

As much as you wanted to fight him and insist it was too much, he looked so excited, the smile on his beautiful face so pure, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You grinned back at him, standing up to throw your arms around him without a second thought. The way he hugged you back was just as amazing as you’d always imagined it would be. He was warm, his chest and arms firm in the most comforting way, and even the way he smelled was addictive. His embrace was nothing short of perfect, and it took everything in you not to whine when it inevitably came to an end.

“Thank you.”

“I know how much you love music, so I figured a nice pair of headphones would be pretty important to you.”

“It is, this is so sweet, I don’t even know what to say.”

He grinned, a teasing look on his face, “I wouldn’t mind another hug, if that’s easier.”

Your smile told him more than enough. This time, he was the one to pull you in, and he held you even tighter, letting the embrace linger for a moment longer. You put the headphones in your backpack, and started walking to class.

“You know I think that's the first time I've ever heard you call someone an asshole.”

“Well he really, really is.” He laughed. “I couldn't stand him even before he did all that. It's not the first time he's done that kind of thing either, but nobody ever stops him since his family donates a ton of money to the university and is on the board of directors.”

“That's awful..”

“Yeah he's the worst. How's your shoulder?”

“It only hurts if I put pressure on it or move it wrong, it’s really not too bad.”

You didn't have the heart to tell him that it did kind of hurt when he hugged you, but you'd happily deal with the slight discomfort of it, if it meant you'd get to do it more often.

He seemed to catch on anyway, only lightly holding onto your good side when you got to class and he told you goodbye. You wondered if he'd been thinking about holding you the same way you had been for weeks, now that he seemed so keen on it.

Every time he was sweet to you, you felt yourself falling for him even harder. Just walking with him was enough to turn you into a giddy mess, gradually falling in love with every little part of him. Whenever you felt especially shy, you would ask him about different art projects he was working on and he would show you, going on and on about what inspired it, the different motifs and themes. His voice always calmed you down after a little while, but by then, you'd usually be home or at your next class.

For days you thought about inviting him over, telling yourself you'd finally just do it, but always chickening out at the last minute. With how he treated you, you started to think that if he was alone with you, he might actually make a move. Maybe.

It wasn't until the end of midterms that you finally worked up the courage to invite him in.

He asked what you were up to that evening, as he usually would, and you told him that you were just going to study for the exam the next day, in the class you shared with him.

“Me too.” He said, looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite read as you got to the entrance of your dorm.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you both stood there, not yet wanting to let him leave, and it seemed to you that he didn't want that either.

He moved closer, about to hug you goodbye when your hand landed on his shoulder.

“Wait-”

He froze, swallowing, glancing nervously at the door.

“If you’re just gonna study tonight too, would you want to maybe come inside and study together?”

You braced yourself for the rejection, already dreading the excuse he would make, so it came as a surprise when he showed you a big dazzling grin.

“That sounds great, sure.”

You didn't miss Heejins face when he walked through the door with you, raising her eyebrows suggestively with a grin on her lips as soon as his back was turned.

“Baekhyun, this is my roommate Heejin.”

He smiled and greeted her, and you knew she'd be bombarding you with questions as soon as he was gone again.

You led him to your room, getting out your textbook and settling in on your bed, with him right next to you.

Part of you hoped that he wouldn't be all that keen on actually studying and you'd be able to just talk and hang out. Maybe, he would even make a move. Unfortunately though, he really did want to study.

Even as you both studied in silence, he somehow still managed to make the room feel far hotter than it realistically was. You felt his eyes on you more often than seemed normal, and a few times you'd looked back up at him, but he'd always quickly returned his attention to his textbook. He kept inching closer to you as well, every brush of his shoulder or thigh against your own increasing your heart rate.

You probably stole a few too many glances at him too, but he just kept drawing you in. Every detail of his face looked so kissable, your mind drifted away from your class work, wishing he was in your bed as more than just a friend.

Every time he would turn a page his hands caught your attention. The mole on his thumb was so cute, you thought, just another part of him you found yourself becoming obsessed with.

Hours went by in what felt like minutes, and when you both started yawning, you decided to call it a night. He hugged you again before leaving, only holding onto the side that wasn’t hurt.

You were proud of yourself for actually taking the initiative and inviting him in. The way he’d kept looking up from the textbook at you, more often than felt normal, kept replaying in your mind. As much as you didn’t want to fall victim to his charm only to be disappointed later, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he really did like you the same way you liked him.

You couldn’t get him out of your head as you got ready for bed that night, and even as you tried to go to sleep, his soft smiles and the way his thigh brushed against your own consumed your thoughts. Your mind wandered off, wondering how he’d react if you made some kind of move on him, though you knew you’d never actually have the confidence to do so. The idea of him reciprocating any of it, kissing you, touching you, almost seemed like it would be worth it. However the possibility of rejection, of losing his friendship, was still too scary for you to consider it.

It was well past midnight when you finally started dozing off, but the sound of your phone pulled you back to reality. For a second you considered just ignoring it until morning, but something inside told you not to. It must've been intuition, because when you did look, it turned out to be a text from him.

Are you awake?

You replied pretty much right away,

Yeah, why?

Can I call?

Sure

Fuck. Before you even had the chance to properly freak out, his caller ID was flashing across the screen. You picked up.

“Hi, y/n. Sorry to call so late, I can't sleep.”

“No worries, is everything okay?”

“Yeah.. I think I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh…”

“Is that weird to say?”

“No! I mean, you could call me at any ungodly hour and I'd probably still pick up, to be honest.”

The words slipped out before you had any real chance to think about what you were saying, and true as it was, you were still grateful he wasn't there to see how hard you were blushing.

“Really? That's awfully tempting… I might end up keeping you up a lot, though. Heejin’s gonna hate me.”

You laughed as quietly as you could, “She has her own bedroom, she'll be fine.”

“Thank you again, by the way, for inviting me in today.”

Your cheeks ached with how hard you were smiling, staring up at your ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear.

“It's nice to have some company. I always get so distracted when I try to study by myself.”

“Well, if I hadn't put it off for so long I probably would've just talked the whole time. I don't know if I'm really a good study partner, but if you want company again just let me know.”

“Well next time don't procrastinate so much, dummy.”

“So you're cool with me distracting you?” You could hear it in his voice, the way he grinned as he said it.

“Maybe a little..”

A brief pause.

“Did you have a boyfriend, back in America?”

The sudden question caught you off guard.

“No.. why?”

“Just wondering, I guess… I mean that must be hard, right? Having all your loved ones so far away.”

You wondered if you should tell him, but decide it would be best to just be honest.

“Okay that wasn’t entirely true. I was seeing someone, but he wasn’t a boyfriend and I knew I wanted to move here, so I ended it. I do miss my family and friends, but I still talk to them basically every day.”

“What about when you graduate? Are you gonna move back?”

“No,” You giggled, amused with how concerned he sounded, “Hopefully not, I like it here.”

“Thank god”

“Why? Would you miss me?”

He was quiet for a moment, dropping the teasing tone and answering with surprising tenderness.

“Of course I would miss you.”

“Oh.. I would miss you too.”

“Awww, cute.” You could practically see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Baekhyun!”

“What?”

“You can be such a little shit, you know that?”

“How am I a little shit?!” He gasped, though even over the phone, you could tell he was just being his usual dramatic self.

“You get a kick out of fucking with me!”

“I wasn’t fucking with you! I just genuinely think it's cute that you would miss me, that’s all.”

“You can’t tell, but I’m rolling my eyes.”

“What? I’m not allowed to think you’re cute?”

There was a long pause, and you considered if you should really believe him. It wasn’t that you thought he was being dishonest, you just didn’t want to set yourself up for disappointment.

“Baek…”

“What?” His voice was once again soft, bringing with it a tightness in your chest.

“Nothing.. It’s just late, I guess, I’m pretty tired.”

For a while he was quiet. You would’ve given anything to know what was going through his head right then.

“You’re right.. I’ll let you get some sleep. I’m glad you were still up when I texted you. Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight.”

As much as it pained you to hang up, inevitably staying up much much later now that he’d given you so much to think about, his flirting just wasn’t something you knew how to handle. Even if he really did like you, why didn’t he say something more than just playful flirting? It would be a dream if he actually confessed to you, but it was exactly that; just a dream. That was clear enough considering how openly he flirted with other girls around you.

The next week he was his usual friendly self, walking with you, joking around, though you felt he’d pulled back a bit on the flirting. Part of you was relieved, since it turned you into a blubbering mess, but of course you also missed it.

He did still keep calling you though, often late at night, when he said he couldn’t sleep. A few times, you’d both even passed out with the call still ongoing. He told you that talking to you calmed him down, and once, he’d even said that he wished you were there with him. You’d laid awake nearly all night, wondering how he’d meant it. Did he just want company? Did he hate sleeping alone? Or did he also want something more than just friendship with you? Either way, until he said something more concrete, you wouldn’t be the one to ask.

It was during one of those late night phone calls that he invited you to a friend's birthday party. It was at a popular club near the university, and at first you weren’t going to attend, but he managed to talk you into it. After all, he would be there. Alcohol and music also meant dancing, and the possibility of dancing with him was enough to ensure that you’d be there too.

He wasn’t able to walk you, since he had to help set everything up, so you ended up going alone. Which wasn’t a big deal, in theory, but as someone who’d always been on the more anxious side, it still made you uneasy. Seoul was very safe, that wasn't the problem, it was what would happen once you got there that worried you. Baekhyun was your only friend there. You didn’t want to be a bother and hang onto him all night, since the rest of the guests were basically strangers to you.

When the time came you wore your favorite outfit, and stepped into the subway towards Hongdae with all the confidence you could muster.

You arrived a little later than the time he’d told you, not wanting to seem overly eager, and to your relief he already seemed to be waiting for you. When he pulled you in for a hug it was tighter than usual, and the smell of tequila on him was pronounced. You quickly took a shot with him, wondering how many he’d already downed prior to your arrival.

The club was still relatively empty, but that didn’t seem to bother Baekhyun as he pulled you towards the dance floor. You protested, and he pouted.

“I don’t really dance, at least not when I’m this sober.”

Seconds later another shot of tequila was pressed into your palm, and Baekhyun clinked his glass to yours, spilling a little, before you downed them in unison. Before you knew it, he had you on the dance floor.

It was your first real night out in Seoul, and it left you every bit as breathless as you’d expected. Now happily drunk, you danced with him, back pressed to his chest, both his hands on your hips.

Any worries you’d had about the amount of alcohol being consumed were long forgotten. You just let the music guide you, swimming in the euphoria of his hands on you and the closeness of your bodies.

When his warmth behind you disappeared, you spun around to search for him. Without him as an anchor, everything became far more overwhelming. There were more people now, the crowded space growing warmer, almost suffocating, until he burst through with a grin on his gorgeous face and two cups of water in his hands.

You hadn’t even realized how dearly you needed it until he’d appeared, grateful to drink something other than tequila. When one of your favorite songs began, and you beamed at him, and he beamed back at you even brighter. He remembered, of course he did. He knew all of your favorite music, because you’d told him so much about it.

Now as you danced, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His hands gripped your waist, and your arms were slung around his neck, swaying to the familiar beat, getting lost in the drunken haze of it all. You realized then that he was staring at you just as intensely as you stared at him.

This is what it’s all about, you thought to yourself. Letting go completely, enjoying the music you love, and sharing it all with your favorite person. His smile shone so brightly, and you mirrored it, unable to imagine a more perfect moment.

You hardly realized it when he began to drag you off the dance floor. The song had long ended, and as the speakers became more distant, his voice became clear.

“Y/n?”

His eyes were bigger than ever as you looked up into them, in awe of their gentle downward slope, their deep brown color, the sincerity always behind them.

“Baekhyun?”

“I want to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“I..” He trailed off, still looking at you, seeming to lose his train of thought. “You… You look really pretty, you always do, but especially right now.”

It was nothing he hadn’t told you before, but it still hit you harder than ever. For a while you just held his gaze, until in a burst of blind, drunken, confidence, you moved closer. You stood on the tips of your toes, and ever so softly, you let your lips meet his blushing cheek. Before the confidence could wear off and you’d start to second guess yourself, you pulled him back onto the dance floor.

You both downed a few more drinks, your attention devoted fully to each other. It was silly, now, to think of how worried you’d been about coming here. You hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

Eventually you had to excuse yourself to find a bathroom. You stared into the mirror as you fixed your lip gloss, wondering if Baekhyun had a mark on his face, from where you’d kissed him earlier. You liked the idea of other girls knowing that you’d been there.

You held onto the sink with an iron grip, closing your eyes for a second to steady yourself, all too aware of the way the room spun around you. Drinking this much wasn’t like you, but you were having so much fun, you didn’t care.

The bright flashing lights and hoards of strangers were disorienting, especially in your intoxicated state. You ended up on a sort of balcony, overlooking the dance floor, trying to find Baekhyun somewhere among the crowd.

When you finally spotted him, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. He was dancing with Sumin.

Everything that happened next felt like it went by in slow motion.

Her eyes broke away from him, scanning the room, and briefly met yours. You saw her throw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, and he kissed her back.

The music seemed to wane into a dull buzz, sudden dizziness causing you to stumble. It took you a minute to get your bearings again, but when you did, you pushed your way through the crowd and out onto the street without a second thought.

It had started to rain. The smell of wet concrete was your only company as you walked towards home, a cruel, painful pit swallowing you from the inside.

Baekhyun didn’t like you like that, of course he didn’t. He was like that with all the girls.

Part 2

#baekhyun fic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo #exo fic #exo fanfic #baekhyun #exo fluff #exo angst #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop female oc #exo smut #kpop smut

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violet-fluff · 1 year ago

Text

💙 Levi x Sick! Reader

Pulling Through

“We should visit Y/N. It’s been a while.” Petra says sadly.

Gunther frowns. “You know Captain won’t let us. It seems like the better she gets, the more protective he is. Which I understand. It took so long for her to get better so he’s probably paranoid of her getting sick again.”

You caught a bad case of pneumonia, and at one point, the doctors didn’t think you would make it. Fortunately you did pull through and you felt like it was all because of Levi. He took care of you from the beginning. He made sure you took your medicine on the dot, bathed you, fed you and did everything in his will to keep you alive. Now you are in the recovery stage trying to get your strength back.

Petra feels sympathetic for her Captain as she knows how much he loves you. “Hanji told me before that Levi’s mother died due to sickness. It would have been awful if the same happened to Y/N.”

“If what happened to me?”

They all quickly snap their heads to the side and gasp when they see Levi rolling you in a wheelchair into the mess hall.

“Y/N!!” Petra squeals excitedly.

“Well look who decided to finally show up.” Eld jokes lightly as they all walk up to you.

You feel Levi’s hand stiffen on your shoulder as everyone gets closer, so you give his hand a light squeeze to tell him it was ok.

“I begged Levi to let me come out and get some fresh air. I feel better already!” You smile as you take in the sight of your friends who you’ve missed.

They all take in the sight of you as well. Their faces dropping slightly as they notice your thin frame from the weight you’ve lost, as well as your dark sunken eyes against your pale skin.

“Well it’s good to see you out and about.” Oluo announces happily, for once not uttering a sarcastic comment.

Levi grunts. “Ok brats, time to leave my wife alone. She needs to eat.”

You give the team a knowing smile and let Levi wheel you to the table. While you wait for Levi to finish making your soup, you catch up with your friends.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” Petra croaks out, trying to not cry.

You lean over to hug her. “Don’t cry it’s okay.”

Oluo rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you’re back so now I don’t have to listen to Petra’s girly gossip anymore.”

Gunther snorts a laugh. “It’s weird you say that because from the looks of it, you love the gossip.”

Petra sighs. “Bet you didn’t miss these bozos.”

You laugh. “I miss everything. Time seemed to fly by for me though. I can’t believe I’ve been down for two months now.”

“It was a long two months without one of our favorite captains. Also, there was no one to protect us from Captain Levi’s harsh training.” Eld says.

“It was much needed training.” Levi scolds as he walks back in with a bowl of soup.

Due to muscle pain and weakness, Levi has to hold the bowl for you but you were able to lift the spoon to feed yourself. You were only able to eat half of the bowl before becoming full.

“Please, Love, just eat a few more spoons for me.” Levi begs with a sigh.

Petra has to cover her mouth to stop herself from squealing while the guys look at each other awkwardly as they have never witnessed their captain so lovey-dovey.

After eating a few more spoons to make Levi content, you yawn. “I’m tired. Can you take me back to the room?”

Levi nods and grabs the handles of your wheelchair.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You wave goodbye to your team.

Everyone watches as Levi wheels you away, as well as kissing the top of your head.

Petra watches with love-struck eyes. “I’m so happy for them. I hope I find love like that one day.”

Oluo scoffs and then hurls over as she elbows him in the stomach.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #captain levi #violet: levi ackerman oneshot

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piratefishmama · 1 year ago

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Nest | Part 13

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

It was like walking directly into a wall. The moment that door opened Steve took one step inside, and had to immediately step back again as his senses were assaulted with the scent of pain, of fear, of discomfort, and distress.

A shake of his head later in a fruitless bid to shake that painful mixture of scents from his senses, he pushed himself through it. The door closed behind him.

The vents were working overtime to clear the air, but the more they cleared, the more replaced it. Eddie was just a small bundle of negativity, of suffering, and Steve had just left him there.

He knew it wasn’t his fault, knew he wasn’t responsible, but he felt awful.

He felt awful knowing that he should have stayed. Even though he knew that he couldn’t have, he knew it was against all the rules, knew that someone would have tried to drag him out had he stayed, that it wasn’t up to him, he felt like the worst Alpha. Like a failure. He’d left his mate to suffer, he didn’t deserve to be in there, didn’t deserve Eddie’s forgiveness, didn’t deserve the right to be the one to help him through his distress.

He shook his head again, the air so thick, so full of negativity that it was dragging him down with it.

The corner, he’d seen Eddie on the cameras, one quick look around the room gave him the location of the one camera still active, the blinking red dot telling him they were being watched. “Eddie?” He followed the line of sight to the wall, the darkness of the room and the mixture of scents filling every single crevice made it difficult to see clearly.

The whine was what gave him away.

A soft, pitiful little whine from the corner semi-muffled by fabric, Steve was there within seconds, down on his knees before his bundled up Omega, the other man trembling within the thick fabric of the weighted blanket that’d already long since lost the scent Steve had meticulously rubbed over it, lost to the overwhelming scent the omega was giving off in his distress.

His eyes were dark and unfocused, blown pupils rendering them almost black, half hidden by sweat-damp hair, his breathing was shallow, skin flushed, slick with sweat “Ah—Alpha?” There was no strength to his voice, a whisper of sound amidst weakened breaths.

Steve had suffered many a heart break in his life, so many trials and errors with partners of the past, but nothing could compare to the break he felt when Eddie struggled in vain to reach out to him from within the blanket, the omega struggling to find enough strength just to lift an arm against the weight of the fabric.

Anyone else, Eddie would find the strength. If anyone else had walked into that room, Steve knew that he’d have found the strength to attack, the fact that he hadn’t yet, was enough to tell Steve, not that he couldn’t… but that he wouldn’t.

It was all the confirmation Steve needed to take action. “Alpha’s here, m’here Eddie” voice soft, he moved closer, arms curling under the weakened omega, one under his knees and the other cradling his back. At Eddie’s inquisitive little chirp, Steve pressed a kiss into the sweat-damp curls at the crown of Eddie’s head “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” And they were up. Steve rose to his feet without strain, an action that for the briefest of moments, had desire pouring from the Omega in his arms.

He was strong, capable, he could just… pick Eddie and that blanket right up regardless of how much they weighed combined.

“Need…” Eddie breathed, head heavy against Steve’s chest “m’hot… too—too hot—hurts” could barely open his eyes, Steve could feel the warmth radiating through that blanket, he was too warm, maybe he’d have been okay if he’d have used the heat aid once but… it felt like he was burning up.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, we need to cool you down, that’s what I’m doing okay? M’gonna get you to the bathroom and we’re gonna cool you down.”

The nest was a wreck, Steve didn’t know what’d happened between when he left hours before and that moment, but the nest had suffered. Blankets were thrown, clothing had been pulled from the framework and tossed away, the shirt Steve had eventually given him was now caught on the edge of a set of drawers, thrown away.

The alpha in him mourned whatever Eddie had been thinking that made him throw it away.

Eddie didn’t verbally respond, instead he curled in on himself tighter, pressed his face closer to Steve’s chest, his breathing still shallow, still weak, he wasn’t shaking anymore.

Steve used his shoulder to turn the light on in the bathroom, it took a couple of tries to hit it just right, but once light flooded the room he was quick to get Eddie to the large bath yet gentle in how he removed the blanket once he’d managed to climb in, after lowering both himself and Eddie into the tub and shower combo.

At Eddie’s defensive groan and his attempt to keep the blanket close, Steve gently shushed him “Shhh shh, it’s okay, Omega, I’m here, you don’t need the blanket.” It was only making it worse, hotter, it didn’t even smell like Steve anymore.

Just of Eddie, of his sadness, his discomfort, his fear. He threw it over the edge of the tub, letting it land in a heavy heap on the floor.

Steve had never seen an Omega like that before. Lost to lust absolutely, an Omega at the peak of their heat was usually a stunning thing, beautiful, almost glowing in their radiance, enough to make an Alpha go wild with want, but this wasn’t that. He’d never… he’d never seen one look like that.

It was terrifying, it took all he had to not panic. Eddie had been alone for four hours, steadily getting worse and worse, what if nobody had checked on him? What would have happened if they’d have waited longer to look at those cameras?

What if they’d just left him? What if they hadn't noticed?

The omega slumped back into Steve’s arms, the fight in him lost, head back against him, his chest still rising and falling double time in an effort to breathe.

“Eddie, Imma need you to stay with me, okay? Keep your eyes open, alright?” Although out of focus, Eddie’s eyes remained open as he nodded, weak, the movement minimal but he managed. “I need to get your shirt off, can you lift your arms?” He shook his head, movement so slight if Steve had blinked, he’d have missed it. “Alright, okay, clothes on.”

It wouldn’t be fun, he knew it wouldn’t be fun, but with a little twist of his body, Steve reached up and twisted the dial on the shower, and grabbed Eddie tightly just in time for the Omega to snarl his objection when cold water rained down upon them suddenly.

Life slammed into the boy in his arms with a startled yelp, eyes suddenly wide, sharper than before yet still so very dark, he struggled, he snarled, he snapped, and scratched at the arms holding him down, scoring deep welts and bloodied tracks down Steve’s arms in an attempt to free himself from the hold to escape the cold spray that splashed over the edge of the bath soaking the floor and the blanket that’d fallen to it.

Non-verbal but violent in his struggle, Steve kept him down, held him tight though the stinging pain until the water began to warm, held on so tightly until the boy began to calm, until warmth rained upon them, not too hot, not too cold. Right in the middle, the sweet spot where warmth touched cold but didn’t quite intertwine. Soothing on a too hot summers day.

Eddie stopped struggling, slumping back against his chest once more.

The water stung against the wounds inflicted, but Steve would live. Eddie hadn’t done too much damage in his struggle. “You with me, Eddie?”

“Mnnnghh” it was stronger than before, still weak but… there was more of Eddie’s voice in it. Less breath. The water kept running, Steve hadn’t put the plug in, so it’d just drain away, but it kept running, raining comfortable summer shower-like warmth upon them. “…Steve?” Eddie turned in his place, Steve’s arms falling lax enough for him to move, albeit slowly, and with a little squeaking from the friction against the sides of the bath tub, but he could move. “Why—why are you… why are you here? You… you can’t be—can’t be here.”

Steve ever so gently lifted his hand to Eddie’s face, to tuck stray, wet curls out of his face, behind his ear. His skin was still so red, still so warm to the touch, but he was there. Steve let his hand linger when Eddie leaned into it, his whole body seeming to press closer to that morsel of contact, breath leaving him in a soft whimper, he was there…

That was the important part, his mind was mostly there, shocked back into place by the cold water, temporarily maybe, but it was enough.

“M’here for you. You weren’t okay, Eddie… why didn’t you use the aid I gave you?” The question had Eddie opening his eyes once more, although they dipped to the space between them, he sagged, his shoulders drooping, defeated.

“Didn’t—didn’t want to—to be a failure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a bad omega…” he sniffled, then lifted his hand to rub at his nose, breath hitching as he spoke “bad at it all… nobody—nobody wants me—I didn’t wanna—wanna accept that my only option… was a stupid heat aid… I didn’t—I don’t want that.” Omega’s were sought after, alphas naturally flocked to them, courted them, fawned over them, yet Eddie had never had the attention of any alpha. Even at the bars he and his band played at, even among his own people…

Nobody wanted him.

He’d failed at the most basic part of being an Omega, being wanted. Having to use a heat aid because he had literally no other option was just… the final nail in his coffin. The proof that he was worthless. He thought he could hold out, could just wait a little longer, he had Steve’s scent on that blanket, he had the shirt in his nest, Steve’s heated promises for after his heat, but no, it’d taken half an hour for the pain to overwhelm.

He didn’t remember much else besides the agony of watching Steve leave the room. Leave him behind. Abandon him. It felt like he’d been rejected. Like his Alpha didn’t really want him, like none of it was real.

The blanket had stopped helping too quickly. The shirt felt like it no longer belonged, nothing belonged, nothing was right, his nest was wrong. He didn’t remember tearing it apart, but he knew he had. Knew he didn’t have a nest to hide in anymore. He was a bad Omega.

“Eddie that doesn’t make you a failure—”

“You don’t get it!!” Steve flinched back as Eddie snapped at him, the omega fully capable of violence, Steve had the scratches down his arms to prove it, and he could see the elongated canines sharp enough to puncture skin, normally used in bonding rituals but fully capable of tearing through flesh in both defence and offense. “You’ve never failed at the ONE thing your stupid alpha self is naturally meant to be able to do. People FAWNED over you, Steve, people wanted you, people threw themselves at you. Nobody wanted me. An unwanted Omega… have you ever heard of such a pathetic thing? An unwanted Omega? You know I went into heat once at school? Nobody even noticed.”

He'd spent the whole day stuffing his face until the school nurse had caught wind and sent him home, he’d not even been trying to hide his scent, just watched as people kept a wide berth, nobody wanted to touch the freak. Even during the time of the month when he was supposed to be the most attractive to the Alphas around him. Nobody.

Among failing everything else in life, he’d failed at the one thing he should have been born able to do. He was worthless. A worthless Omega.

His only saving grace in the moment was that the water hid the freely falling tears on his face.

“Eddie...”

“You don’t get it... how could you get it?” He put up such a good front, hid behind his loud, expressive, ridiculous self, but he just wanted to be wanted. Just once. Once would be enough just to prove that he could. That he wasn’t a complete failure, just once.

Steve’s other hand joined the first, both palms now cradling the other man’s face, Steve moved, pitched forward and shifted positions until he was on his knees in front of his Omega, awkward and slippery but he managed. “I want you, Eddie” those big dark eyes were on him, red rimmed and heartbroken. Steve leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead “I do” another kiss to the tip of his nose “When this is over, I’m going to court the fuck out of you if you’ll let me” another kissed pressed to his cheek, he could feel Eddie relaxing, could feel him falling lax in Steve’s hold. “Gonna give you every quarter I find on the floor cause I know every time you see one you get all giddy about it, I’m gonna get you flowers, wild ones, cause I’ve seen you pick dozens over the years along the sides of the school carpark, I’m gonna get you pretzels covered in chocolate, and every silly Garfield related thing I can find” He’d never ignored Eddie. Not completely.

Sure he didn’t remember Eddie ever going into heat at school, but he’d never completely ignored him.

He was impossible to ignore, always there in his peripherals, doing silly shit in the background of Steve’s life. Steve had been unknowingly learning things about Eddie for as long as he’d known Eddie existed. It’d just taken a while for all that stuff to become relevant.

“When it’s over?” His voice was losing its strength again, the warmth sinking into his bones, haze returning to his gaze as he leaned more and more weight onto Steve, eyelids heavy.

“Just one more day, that’s all I need you to wait, an I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I’m here, I’m staying. I’ll be with you through the whole damn thing, m’not letting you go again, okay?” They’d have to tranquilize him to get him out, and doing that opened them up to attack from Eddie.

“Nest—Nest is—” his voice broke, weak and full of sadness as he pitched forwards, face slipping from Steve’s hands as he fell forwards into his encircling arms instead, leaning heavily against Steve’s broad chest “gone—broke it—I—I broke it, it’s ruined” bad omega, couldn’t even keep a nest intact.

“I’ll fix it, baby, I know how we did it, I’ll fix it all for you, okay?” Steve stroked slow lines through drenched hair, holding him steady, voice soft, trying so hard to soothe “it’s gonna be okay, Eddie I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

He just had to get Eddie through one more day.

"Need—need alpha—" One more day.

Part 15

#PirateWrites #NestFiclet #Steddie #CW: A/B/O #No Upside Down AU #Omegaverse #Omega!Eddie Munson #Alpha!Steve Harrington

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gothicgaycowboy · 1 year ago

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please please me

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: you persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

Warnings: 18+ no minors, smut, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), brief thoughts of somnophilia, praise kink, brief mentions of breeding kink (but no really because it’s mostly just taking about cum and creampies lol), pet names (sweetheart, honey, little wife), no use of y/n, fem reader, a little fluffy ending!

A/N: this took me an embarrassingly long time to write so I hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to comment and reblog🫶

Calvin Evans was an incredibly dedicated chemist. He seemed to care more for his work than anything else in the world.

Late nights were almost always spent in his lab when he could be sure his scientific process would not be disturbed, more importantly there would be no Donatti banging on his door asking when his latest experiment would be done.

His commitment to his work is what many (even those who weren’t particularly fond of Evans) would list as one of his greatest strengths.

Not you though.

Definitely not you.

You didn’t want to be misunderstood, you were truly proud of Calvin and his work. He was a brilliant man who deserved every bit of praise he got. You would accompany him to every award ceremony and never grow tired of hearing speech upon speech about what a wonder he was in the scientific community.

But you were getting very tired of spending most nights in your home alone.

Every night for the past month at 1:35am on the dot, you would be awoken by the feeling of the right side of the bed sinking to the weight of his lanky body. He would apologize profusely for waking you so late, and proceed to move to the couch in the living room.

In the beginning you hoped you could at least have a brief moment of alone time with Calvin in your shared morning before he went off to work. But of course he had already left for his early row by the time you opened your eyes.

Even weekends weren’t sacred anymore since moving some of his lab equipment to his home office. Calvin would leave his office when you alerted him dinner was ready, you two would stick to light small talk ( “How’s your research going?” “This is delicious” “Anything interesting in the news lately?” “Have you heard about what happened to Mrs.Jones down the road?”) Cavin would eat quickly, finishing before you were even halfway through your food, thank you for the meal and quickly peck your cheek before going right back to his office.

Like any sane person you were growing impatient with your husbands never ending busy schedule. A woman has needs just like any man does and Calvin should know that very well by now.

Much of your early relationship was spent exploring all the ways you could please each other. After all, Calvin was a scientist and he would reason the best way to find out was to experiment. That meant hours wrapped up in your white sheets, christening every surface of his home, trying things you never would have even fantasized of doing in your wildest dreams.

You missed that time desperately now and you had a plan to get it back.

–

Calvin was never good at picking up on social cues. Luckily most people thought he was simply pulling their leg when he took a joke or a sarcastic comment seriously. But he knew something had changed with you the moment he stepped into your shared home that Friday night.

He still made sure to close the door with extra caution so as not to wake you, even though he ended up almost constantly waking you when he slunk into bed anyway. Going through his usual routine of removing his sweat soaked running clothes, grabbing a pair of clean pajamas, and jumping into the bathroom for a quick shower.

After thoroughly removing the feeling of grime from his skin he makes his way towards your bedroom rubbing his tired eyes. He knows he has only himself to blame for his recent exhaustion but he’s never been great at putting anything before his work, and that includes sleep.

As he expects there you are sleeping sweetly, your left hand resting gently under your face. No matter how many times he sees you sleep he knows he will never get bored of it.

Calvin was quickly pulled out of his state of adoration when he realized something was off with the usual picture he was used to coming home to. You were sleeping on your stomach with your leg sticking out from the duvet. And Calvin may be downright lousy at picking up social cues but he always noticed a change in his surroundings.

You most certainly never had to worry about Calvin failing to notice a change in your style or a new haircut because he was the first to comment on it. “This new dress looks lovely on you.” he’d say while kissing the exposed bit of your shoulder.

In all the years he had known you, you never once slept on your stomach (it was a deeply inconvenient position for cuddling according to you), and you definitely never let your limbs hang off the bed (some old superstitious fear you had as a child that stuck with you into adulthood).

He decided to investigate further, even if it turned out to just be him reading too much into it.

Striding over to your side of the bed he looked for anything else that might be out of place. Your breathing was normal, the book on your bedside table was laying in the same place you put it all other nights, and your nightly glass of water sat empty. He was about to scold himself for being overdramatic when his eyes caught the lack of fabric on your shoulders.

Maybe you purchased a new sleeveless nightgown, Calvin tried to reason with himself. Maybe it was just a particularly low neckline or perhaps the fabric matched your skin tone so well he just wasn’t seeing it, after all the room was dark. Yes, that was possible.

Of course he couldn’t leave it at that - oh why didn’t he leave it at that and go right to bed? “You’re being ridiculous,” he scolded himself like a child in a whisper. “Just take a quick look, there’s no harm.”

Carefully he reached for where the blanket met your exposed back, making sure not to graze your skin, as much as he wanted to.

Sure enough there it was, you, completely exposed to him. The sides of your breasts pushing out against the mattress and your round ass on full display. “Shit…” the words fell out of Calvins mouth before he could stop them. He felt like a stupid teenager getting his first glance at a nude woman all over again.

Thoughts of temptation filled his mind. What would happen if he did touch you? If his hands slipped down towards the space between your thighs. Would you wake suddenly furious that he would ever wake you from your peaceful sleep? What about encouraging him to join you and take off his towel?

Of course he wouldn’t ever be sure of the real answer as Calvin could not bring himself to touch you while unconscious. It would be downright ungentlemanly.

He shook his head to clear his mind of the thoughts.

Calvin was lifting the edge of the duvet to cover you back up when you began to move. Panic filled him as he froze completely, fearing what you would think if you caught him ogling you in your sleep. Luckily enough for him your eyes did not open, but something unexpected did come out of your mouth.

At first Calvin thought he was hearing things, maybe the exhaustion of all these long nights in the lab were finally getting to him. Although that was a strong possibility in his mind there was no doubt the noises he was hearing were coming from you. Noises he was all too familiar with. Soft, breathy, moans.

This was not a sound Calvin knew you could make in your sleep. So similar to the sounds you let out when he was on top of that if he closed his eyes he would swear that’s where he was. While being swept up by his own imagination he nearly missed the words you spoke. “Mmph…Calvin…”

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He could no longer ignore the growing bulge under the towel wrapped around his waist. Dropping the blanket back over you, he rushed back to the bathroom.

Leaning against the sink Calvin ripped the towel from around him, freeing his hard cock. Bringing his right hand up to his mouth he spit a glob of saliva into the center of his palm. Wasting no time at all he reached down and grasped the base of his throbbing length causing a gasp to escape him. “Fuck,” He moaned, his voice trembing with arousal. Calvin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this desperate for a release.

Reminiscing about the last time he had gotten you all to himself Calvin began working his hand over his cock. The way you bit your bottom lip when you were close to orgasm, how soft your ass felt in his hands, or how you begged him so sweetly to cum inside of you. “Oh honey,” he groaned with teeth clenched. The more he thought about you the closer he got to the edge.

Keeping his arm still Calvin started bucking his hips forward, fucking his fist while picturing you on your knees below him. Your big doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent glint was his weakness. How was someone even able to look so naive with a cock between their lips? “That’s it, God you're so good to me,” he could no longer hold back.

Picking up his pace Calvins mind went blank, only the sensation of his impending orgasm could be felt. A jumbled mix of curses sprung from his lips as he watched the cum shoot from the tip of his cock onto his fist.

Calvin remained silent in the bathroom, the only sound to be heard was the heavy panting noise of him trying to catch his breath. After a few beats he decided it would be best to clean up the mess he had made, put his pajamas on and get out of there as soon as possible. God forbid you wake up for a late night bathroom trip and see him like this.

Walking back out to the living room he began to wonder how loud he had been, did he wake you with his erratic moans? Choosing to take a quick peak and make sure he hadn’t embarrassed himself further he gracefully nudged your bedroom door open a sliver. Clearly the universe was looking out for old Calvin because there you lay, sleeping soundly.

Letting out a breath of relief Calvin moved back out towards his bed tonight – the couch.

If only Calvin had stayed watching you a little longer he would have seen the sly smirk spreading across your lips.

Everything goes according to plan.

–

The sun peeked through the blinds, shining directly onto his eyelids when he woke in the morning. He had been too distracted last night to set his usual 6am alarm but he welcomed the extra rest. Honestly after the night he had Calvin was surprised he slept at all.

Figuring there was no time to waste if he still wanted to go on his morning row, Calvin sat upright on the couch, wiping the sleep from his eyes. While rubbing his eyes Calvins nose picked up an array of once familiar scents: eggs, toast, bacon, and…was that pancakes? It had been so long since you last cooked breakfast for him –again Calvin knew that was completely his fault.

Cavin was starting to forget what your warm meals tasted like, becoming accustomed to eating the cold leftovers whenever he returned home. Perhaps he could skip the row, just this one time…

Strolling towards the kitchen with a smile on his face Calvin nearly tripped himself when he caught sight of you. Standing as he expected in front of the stove top, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head while carefully flipping pancakes. What he did not expect was the lingerie you were wearing while doing it. He’d obviously lost track of time while eyeing you as you noticed him, slack jaw and all.

You fully turned towards him with a smile, “Good morning sleepyhead.”

–

How you wish you had a camera near you now. The look on Calvins face was priceless. You had never seen him so stunned before, and that includes the first time you agreed to go on a date with him.

“M-morning,” he stuttered, clearly trying (and failing) to fix his uncouth expression.

His gaze wandered across the outfit before him. A light pink set, silk top decorated with a delicate bow in the center of the chest, short ruffled bloomers, completed with a transparent tulle robe.

You turned back towards the stove. “Did you sleep well? I missed you last night. It’s always so lonely in bed without you,” you said, exaggerating the sadness in your voice.

That seemed to snap Calvin back to his normal self, “I’m sorry honey, you know I just worry about waking you up,” the genuine concern in his voice almost made you feel bad for playing it up so much…almost.

“Well you woke me up anyway, so why didn’t you just join me, hm?” You had a feeling you could see the panic on his face without even looking back.

A hitch in his breathing and a sudden step towards you let you know you were spot on. “When exactly did I wake you?” he questioned.

“Oh you know, when you were playing with your cock in the bathroom,” you stated it simply like you were telling him something he already knew. “I have to say I was very disappointed you didn’t invite me Calvin, you know I hate to think of all the cum you wasted without me there to clean it up.” You shut the burner on the stove off, moving the final pancake off the side with the rest.

Finished with the task at hand you looked back at Calvin. No longer the anxious face you were anticipating, no this was a look you recognized instantly, arousal.

Calvin licked his lips, “You dirty little minx,” wrapping his hands around your waist he swiftly pulled you towards him. His hot breath fanning across your face, “You planned all this out didn’t you?”

Batting your lashes at him you whipped out your best virginal response, “I have no idea what you could possibly be accusing me of Dr.Evans.”

He tilted his head to the side, “Are you sure about that?” His hands were now grazing further down your back causing an involuntary shiver to run over you. “So you didn’t sleep naked last night hoping it would drive me crazy? How about moaning in your ‘sleep’ expecting me to get hard?”

You shook your head at every accusation. Watching Calvin grow more impatient with your antics was only egging you on.

He let out a huff, “No? Not even wearing this skimpy thing to cook breakfast in?”

“How do you know this isn’t what I usually cook breakfast in? It’s not like you’re ever around when I do it anyway.” The facade you had put on dropped quickly.

It was clear a lightbulb went off in Calvins head, “Is that what this is about? Have I been neglecting my pretty little wife's needs?” He moved his head into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against your pulse.

Now it was your turn to stutter, “M-maybe…” Your eyes closed at the feeling of him being so close to you.

His lips moved to graze your neck, making his words jumbled, “Well I think I know just how to apologize for it.”

You were about to ask how when suddenly Calvins lips crashed onto yours, pushing every coherent thought from your mind. Caught off guard you forget to move your lips with his. He pulled away briefly to let out a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me,” The command was so gentle it seemed almost like a question.

You could never deny him of what he wanted. Moving back into the kiss you meet him with equal lust, like you both had been deprived of touch for years. God you missed this, the soft groans passing by your lips as your tongues melted against each other. You noticed a growing hardness pressed to your upper thigh. “Getting excited over a little kiss Calvin?” you teased. Your forehead rested against his, nudging his nose with yours.

“Can you blame me? I mean look at you,” Calvins right hand moved up from its place on your back, undoing the tie in the middle of your robe. You shook it from off your shoulders, letting it fall on the kitchen floor. Calvin took a step back to get a better look at you, making you whine at the loss of contact. “So perfect for me,” he said, like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that it was true.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he sunk slowly onto his knees.

His hands pulled at the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin. “I’m thanking my beautiful wife for putting up with me.”

Your eyes rolled at his dramatics. “Cavin I d-” the words ripped from you before they were even out as his lips moved to the inner part of your thigh. Dragging the delicate skin of his lips across you, your eyelids fluttered shut once more. “I should have known you would need me to take care of you,” he admitted.

The petals of his lips roaming higher up your thighs he shifted you so that your legs were flush against his torso. “Don’t you sweetheart, you need me to take care of you?” Although his tone was clearly mocking it still made you feel warm inside.

“Mhm, I do I do, please,” you nodded dumbly.

His smile pressed against your skin, “How cruel of me to ever leave my sweet wife and her needy pussy all alone.” Calvins right hand reached up to the center of your bloomers, thumb grazing over your clit.

“F-uck,” you gasped, dropping your hands to grip the base of Calvin's hair.

“You’re worse off than I thought you were,” he joked. Wasting no more time teasing you Calvin lowered your bloomers, pulling them with his teeth. Your eyes sprung open to watch him work.

Biting his lower lip Calvin admired the wetness dripping from you. “Miss me?”

“Yes, God Calvin Please,” you begged looking down at him with desperation flowing from you.

His eyes met your, “You don't need to beg for me anymore honey, I’m home now.” keeping eye contact with you Calvin kissed your aching clit. Gradually escalating from sweet pecks to open mouth licks you could feel your knees lock below you. Calvin shifted your left leg over his shoulder to drown himself inside your cunt, licking from your clit to your opening.

Moans falling from your lips before you even knew what you were saying, “Yes, fuck you’re so good Calvin,” you swore he always looked his best under you, even if your eyes were having trouble focusing at the moment.

Your praise was the only kind that Calvin cared about you recalled him telling you, and now that was obvious to you. Your words clearly have an effect on his performance. Encouraging him to lick and suck your clit with vigor. His moans vibrate your core pushing you further towards the edge of your impending orgasm.

Withdrawing his face from your pulsating cunt, Calvin lays his face on your thigh. Hastily replacing his tongue with his fingers and continuing the same motions. Seemingly mesmerized by his own actions Calvin stares at your pussy while speaking to you, “Yeah? You like when I pay attention to you?” His words came out wobbly like he was the one being pleasured.

Using all the strength you could muster you tried to really look at him like this. Face flush red leading down to his neck, your slick covering most of his chin, that one vein popping out of his temple. Never before Calvin have you seen a man look so determined to please.

“Mhm Yes, God Calvin, I love it when you pay attention to me,” you groaned.

“Good because I’ll be doing a lot more of it now.” going back in for another taste, he is like a man possessed. Calvin has always been an attentive man, inside and outside the bedroom and it was clear he was trying to prove something to you at this moment.

“Fuck I’m so close Calvin,” you warned.

He broke away from your pussy for a second time, “Yeah, you gonna come all over my face honey?”

You could no longer keep your eyes open, squeezing them shut tight. You wanted to say something- anything in response but the words failed you, opting to nod your head quickly.

“Do it sweetheart, come for me, please,” he coaxed, playing with your clit at the same steady pace he had been previously.

That was all it took for you to come, nearly collapsing into Calvin's arms. He held you upright as your orgasm overtook you. His praise continued as you came down from your high, “You're such a good little wife for me, that’s it honey, come just like that.”

After a few moments calming your breathing you decided to be brave and attempt to move on your own. You joined Calvin down on the floor, sitting in his lap. Letting out a sigh as you came back to your senses, “Fuck me.”

“I would but I'm afraid I may have gotten a little overly excited,” Calvin laughed. You took notice of what he was referring to, a large wet patch on the crotch of his pants.

“Well I’m glad that took care of itself because I don’t know I would have had any energy to help you with it, you drained me.” You jested, but really you weren’t sure your brain was working properly enough to think, let alone suck Calvin off.

The both of you sat in a peaceful moment of silence after that, fixing the others' wrecked appearance. You realized that these were the moments you missed most when Calvin left, simply basking in each other's presence - even if nothing extraordinarily romantic was happening.

“You know when you want me to spend more time with you all you have to do is ask, right?” he broke the silence while brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You know it would be a lot easier to ask you if you weren’t constantly away working or rowing, right?” you asked with the same cadence as him.

That made him giggle, “Fair point, I promise not to let my neurotic ways keep me away from you ever again.” You planted a quick peck in his lips at that, delighted to hear him say it. “In the meantime is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?”

You pretended to be deep in thought about his question, furrowing your brows together and tapping your pointer finger on your chin. “How about sitting down and eating the breakfast I’ve worked so hard on with me?”

Calvin moved from underneath you, causing a frown to appear on your face. He stood up and reached a hand down, inviting you to grab it and pull yourself up. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he smiled, pulling up two chairs to the dining table.

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