#you'd better have a good explanation too!
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transyashiro · 1 day ago
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Hi, genuine question, why transandrophobia is not real? I just thought it was a word to describe the transphobia specifically targeted to transmascs, but if that is not the case id like to be corrected. Also your art is so beautiful I love it!
hey anon. firstly, thank you, i'm glad you like my art. secondly, i am at the end of the day just a guy who draws sometimes. this is a question which was already answered many times by transfeminists on here, and ideally you'd want to get the perspectives of tma people rather than mine. and just in general, keep up with discussions of transmisogyny and listen to transfems, yeah?
all that said, since you are asking me personally... to put it as simply as i can: transandrophobia, or transmisandry, is not real because misandry is not real. that should be the end of the discussion, really. there is no need for a special word to describe transphobia targeted at transmascs, because transphobia and/or other forms of oppression (real ones, Not misandry) depending on any particular situation already cover everything. why is there a desire for a special word to begin with, anyway? girls got one, we want one too? c'mon
but also like, all that aside, regardless of how real or not real transandrophobia is, it is a dog whistle. if someone associates with the transandrophobia crowd, they are most likely a transmisogynist. that should be enough of a reason to steer away from those guys and not trust them. sure, some posts by them might seem compelling or validating at a glance, i've definitely seen younger trans guys who don't know any better start looking in that direction because they feel like they are finally being given a tool to discuss their experiences. i assume that's partially why your question is framed like that, too, because a simple "we just want a word to discuss our oppression" is a lot more convincing than "we hate trans women and want to make them out to be the true oppressors" or "we're just men rights activists but with a trans flag, which also means that we are incapable of oppressing trans women because of our inherent connection to womanhood. don't worry about what that logic implies about our views of trans women" or... you get the picture. it's transmisogyny through and through, you don't even need to dig much
again, i hope you'll look more into what trans women have to say on this, it would do more good than my short clumsy explanation, but hopefully it at least gives you some vague idea
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talaok · 3 months ago
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Sunbathing
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.
Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.
a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself
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"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.
He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.
"Not like this"
You smiled, "what does that even mean?"
"not out... here"
You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation
Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.
"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"
"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"
You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.
"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"
You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.
"You're incorrigible"
"And you're torturin' me darlin'"
"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"  
"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"
He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.
"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"
"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.
He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face
"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless
"no baby" you shook your head
He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest
"I'll have a swim then"
"have fun honey"
__ __ __
"darlin'?"
Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.
"yes?"
He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.
"don't ya need sunscreen?"
A soft smile pulled at your lips.
Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.
"I put it on already"
He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.
"how long ago?"
"an hour, I think"
"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"
You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.
"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"
"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"
he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his
"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone
"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"
"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him
"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.
"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"
"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"
He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.
He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-
Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.
The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.
"feels good?"
"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.
It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.
You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.
"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.
"I didn't say anything"
If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...
He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.
He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.
It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.
But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.
"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.
"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.
He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.
"so are you"
And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.
A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.
"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"
The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.
And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.
he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.
"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless
His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.
You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.
"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"
Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan
"I can take care of you if you want"
He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"
Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest
"’S too hot to have sex here baby"
His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.
"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"
His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.
"bring me back into the house"
It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.
In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.
He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.
His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.
He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.
“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.
Your husband was a very gifted man.
"'m not gonna last"
He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.
"'s ok"
"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”
Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.
“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”
“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan
“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”
His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.
“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”
You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair
“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.
The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.
He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.
He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.
You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.
“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.
“Feel better now?”
You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”
“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head
“Yes I do”
And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.
He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.
“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.
He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.
His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.
So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.
“Fuck-babe-”
Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.
You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.
His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-
“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.
“Shit-baby- god!”
You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.
You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.
Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so
“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.
He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.
He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist
“You’re crazy”
He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,
“You make me”
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ozzgin · 6 months ago
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Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭
-H❤️
Yandere! Android x Reader (II)
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Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.
Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel
[Part 1] | [More original works]
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The case had been solved.
Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.
"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"
You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.
"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."
"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"
He pondered your statement.
"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."
You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.
Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?
"When are you leaving, actually?"
The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"
"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.
"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."
"Whether you can go back?"
"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."
You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.
"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.
"Because I want to continue spending time with you."
Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.
"I don't believe you."
"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."
"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?
"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."
"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"
"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"
You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?
"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."
You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.
On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.
You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.
His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.
You noticed his hesitation.
"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.
Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.
He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.
"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.
"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.
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You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.
“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”
Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 
“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”
“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”
He processes your words.
“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”
You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.
“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”
You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 
“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”
“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”
“No, most data is sampled randomly.”
You stare at him, confused.
“Then how-”
“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”
“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”
The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.
“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”
Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.
You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...
Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.
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noveauskull · 6 months ago
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How Male WUWA Character's React When They Smell Another Man's Perfume/Cologne On You! (NSFW)
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characters: scar, jiyan, mortefi, calcharo, aalto, yuanwu, geshu lin x reader
warnings: 18+, smut, fem x male, prank, clit play, overstimulation, ideas of cheating, penetration (piv), tied up, mating press, punishment, passing out, hurting their feelings, dick riding, oral (m! receiving), spanking, wall fucking, use of toys, anal, biting, hickeys, throat fucking, clips on nipples and clit, apologies from the men
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SCAR:
You'd regret playing a prank on him immediately. Scar has a very sharp nose so when you come back home smelling like another man he doesn't say anything for a bit, he just stares at you waiting for an explanation.
Though the explanation had to wait until it was midnight and you were on your bed, wrists tied with a belt on the headboard and a vibrator pressed onto your clit, no foreplay whatsoever as he sits in front of you, fingers holding the vibrator with his legs crossed and another hand holding his head up, his eyes burning into yours. He hasn't smiled once ever since you came back.
When he finally asks you about the smell, you said that you had no idea what he was talking about, which made him more pissed, so he made you cum on the vibrator 4 to 6 times until your juices were dripping all over his fingers and palm.
You could tell despite being overstimulated it wasn't over, cause then he started pulling his pants down, not off, but down enough to reveal his hard cock, he cusses at how he still gets hard to you even though you're a potential cheater.
He'd have his cock punching into your cervix with every thrust, and he has a lot of stamina. At one point you can see the last shred of sanity in his eyes blink away as he pushes your knees onto your shoulders and hovers above you, putting you in a matting press when he keeps fucking you raw.
You'd finally surrender and give up when you started to notice you were gonna pass out real soon, the sun was starting to come up too, so you muster up the last bit of energy you had to tell him without babbling that it was a prank before completely shutting down.
The last thing you'd see is Scar's angry face turning to a shocked face before you passed out.
When you wake up in the afternoon, your wrists were no longer tied, the between of your legs are clean with none of yours or his juices left, you had a white oversized shirt on, and you can smell something delicious outside.
Scar would have came in a few minutes later with a big sheepish smile, wearing an apron and holding a plate of food for lunch as he apologizes to you.
"Damn. Sorry babe, I didn't know you had it in you to make a prank this good. I'll make it up to you, 'kay?"
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JIYAN:
He'd be incredibly disappointed that he doesn't smell your usual scent immediately, so he asks you why did you come home smelling like a another man. He would try to be very understanding with you but his patience is replaced with hurt when you tell him that you don't smell anything different about yourself.
He would come to the conclusion that you were cheating on him. You'd keep pretending like you had no idea what he was so silent about. When you initiated you two have sex like always he would comply, but compared to his usual sweet and gentle behavior, its replaced with something more meaner.
First he would tell you he wanted you to suck his dick off. He wasn't asking you like how he usually would, he was ordering you to do it, and you knowing what you did, you listened to him and did it without any questions.
He'd say "this felt better before today" and fuck his cock into your throat to make you swallow every last bit of his cum, even though usually he would cum outside of your mouth unless you asked for it inside.
You would have to be on top of him and thrusting his dick inside you instead of him just straight up pounding you until you were satisfied like always, and when you finally came, he would force you to keep going, if you didn't, he'd smack your ass until your cheeks went red.
This would go on until your legs were shaking, his slaps were very powerful, so everytime you bounce on his cock you'd falter when your sensitive red cheeks touch his thighs and you'd accidentally have his cock piercing to your cervix.
When he sees your movements getting weak, he stares at you with hooded eyes and furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from the bed to carry you and press your back against the wall, then fucking you so hard and deep you couldn't even let out a noise.
Your eyes would be rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth would be hung open with no sign of shutting. Your body would be twitching uncontrollably from all the crazy thrusts Jiyan is forcing you to take.
When he made you cum 3 times on the wall before putting you back onto the bed and fucking you again in doggy style, you had to force yourself to confess that you were just pranking him, to which all his movements would stop and he'd pick you up to make you face his shocked face.
While your pussy was still twitching and gaping from the shape you had to take for the past 5 hours, Jiyan eventually apologizes as he caresses your back while your head is laying lifelessly on his shoulder.
"Of course this was a prank... I'm so stupid, would you forgive me for acting so harshly?"
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MORTEFI:
He'd ignore the smell at first. You'd know that he isn't the type to jump into conclusions so you had to tell him about your day, how happy you were to have made a new friend and how he was super nice to you, making sure you didn't leave out on how touchy that new friend of yours was.
The longer you kept going the more he counted on the times he'd have to make you cum in bed, to which, you seemed to have exceeded over 10 times now.
When it was time to sleep, he'd have you thinking that he wouldn't do anything to you, so you believed his little act and slept for the night, only to wake up in the middle of the night with your hands tied to your back, face smooshed against your pillow with your mouth covered with a cloth and a vibrating dildo deep into your pussy, including an anal plug inside you all at once.
He'd have you squirming as much as you can but eventually you'd stop squirming just to twitch and shake because you'd cum shortly after. When you're at your 5th orgasm that's when he removes the anal plug inside you to shove his cock in.
For the entire night he wouldn't let you make a single noise, constantly smacking your ass and using your hole for his own pleasure, when he finally felt like he was finished that's when he removes the cloth on your mouth to let you speak, and that's when you tell him that it was a prank.
He'd feel incredibly embarassed and sorry that he treated you so roughly, you better expect top tier treatment from him for the rest of the week, but don't forget, this all wouldn't have happened if you hadn't played that stupid prank on him.
"You drive me insane sometimes, you know that?"
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CALCHARO:
NEVER underestimate this man's nose, he could smell your scent from a mile away. So when he smells someone else coming inside his house he's very alarmed, even more alarmed when he finds out that it was you this whole time.
He wouldn't even say a simple hi or even ask what the smell was, he would just grab you without letting you settle down and throw you onto the bed. He never lets you take even a moment to say anything to him as he's ripping, and I mean literally, ripping your clothes off your body.
Calcharo would order you to not move an inch while you're naked on the bed, before he leans in to your neck and sniffs you again. The smell would still be there and that made him want to bite you, so that's what he does, he bites on you all over and leaves marks in every single part of your body.
He's very mad, but he has to confirm if that part of yours has been used yet or not. So he pulls down his pants and he jerks off at your naked body in front of him. If you confessed that you had cheated on him the very least he wanted to do was to make it known that you had always belonged to him before letting yourself get fucked by another man.
Once his cum was all over your face, he uses his hand to wipe some cum onto him and palm your pussy, he may be mad but he's not mean enough to penetrate you without prep. Once your pussy was pooling with your juices that's when he breaks into your hole with his cock, in one harsh movement too, at the same moment he put his cock in he's already thrusting gigantic movements into you.
He'd have you crying and screaming by how fast and powerful his thrusts were. His hands holding onto the back of your knees as he uses your hole like a toy, you felt both pain and pleasure all at once, and he's already made you cum more than 5 times, switching to your ass and mouth from time to time making it more than 5 times since he came. And all your holes were being violated.
Everything had to end when you started to feel lightheaded, even though you had begged him to stop just so you could breathe, he never did stop, and it was really hard for you to tell him that it was all a prank.
So what you did was grab him by the hair as roughly as you can and yank it to your face, choking out the words "It's a prank" before you pass out completely, when you finally woke up, you see Calcharo sitting next to you with his hands on his head, feeling sorry for using you like a doll.
"Don't ever do that again, I don't want to hurt you over something like this ever. Idiot."
-----
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AALTO:
He looks at you and says "Nuh uh, we are not doing this" when he smells another man on you. To which you act oblivious and shrug at his questions, but he's clearly not taking your shit.
For a bit, he analyzes the way you moved around the house, especially when you were on your phone texting to god know's who while giggling, when you do that, that's what makes him lose his patience.
He doesn't even bother checking who you were texting and throws your phone across the room. When you yell at him for throwing away something so fragile he just grabs your wrist and twists it to your back, now your ass was right at where his crotch was and your arm was in an uncomfortable position.
Aalto doesn't plan on keeping you on that position forever, so he grabs both your arms behind your back and presses your back against his chest while holding you.
He'd tease you while asking you questions, his hand would slip inside your pants and play with your clit. He's trying his best to remain calm with you since he knows that if he lets his mind win he would leave you so broken with his cum oozing out of you, so he edges you. 10 minutes turning to 30, 30 minutes turning to an hour, and an hour turning to 2 hours, and he's still teasing your clit.
He doesn't even bother removing your pants or underwear for you, he is literally making you soak your underwear and pants like it's been at the washing machine, no matter how much you beg him for release he wont give it to you until you tell him what actually happened and if you really did cheated on him.
And ding! Aalto wins, you can't bear to not get your release, so you admit to him that you were just pranking him. He'll smile at you and give you a kiss on the forehead before pulling down your pants, revealing a pool of your juices. There was so much juices that you two could fuck hours and hours on end.
He rewards your honesty by shoving his cock inside you and fucking you until you got as many orgasms as you wanted while planting you kisses all over. Smiling at you as you get your 3rd orgasm from his cock.
"I knew you'd never cheat on me, this is why you should leave the pranks to me instead"
-----
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YUANWU:
He doesn't jump into conclusions, instead, he lets you settle down and rest before he asks you if you were using another perfume, and when you say no, that's when he asks if you were out with someone. When your response is "Oh, how did you know?", he'd simply ask you who you had been out with, but you didn't want to answer him. Hearing you respond like that shifts something in him a bit.
Next thing you know he has you bend over his lap, ass sticking out on one side while your face stuffed on the bed in the other, he smacks his hand on your ass in one moment before he fingers your wet pussy until you feel like your close, only to stop again just to smack your ass.
He keeps doing this until he hears an answer from you, but you were quite stubborn, and that was fine. Yuanwu knows exactly how to deal with you, so he keeps going. Everytime you try to push your hips back into his fingers he just spanks your ass, leaving it red all over.
When you finally gave up on begging him to stop and told him that you were just pranking him, he immediately has you sit on his lap while he rubs your asscheeks in a way to comfort the stinging pain he created, head on yours as he smiles at you, it seemed he knew that it was a prank, he just didn't like that you withheld information from him.
Before he lets you go, he rewards you by letting you cum on his fingers while kissing him to muffle your cries, at the same time caressing your red ass cheeks leaving you feel incredibly spoiled. His actions making you never want to lie to him ever again.
He gives you one last tiny smack on your pussy as a little punishment for the silly prank you played on him with a smile.
"You're so cute when you try to act sly, princess. But I hope this makes you realize it will never work on me"
-----
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GESHU LIN:
Disappointed, angry and betrayed. He is definitely not letting you go until you explain yourself. He'd have you kneeling while he makes you suck his cock, having a vibrator not inside your pussy, but in your ass. He makes you swallow his cum for around 3 times, making your stomach full and your throat throb when he finally frees his cock from you.
He'll ask you why you smelled like a man, but a little throat fucking and anal won't make you confess so easily, so he plays your game, and goes completely insane.
He's leaving marks all over your body while punching your cervix with his cock behind you, never giving you a single moment to breathe, your nipples were being pinched by the clips he used on you, the clips having chains that connect on your clit, sometimes he would tug it making you scream in pain before he hits your spot to replace your scream with a delicious moan.
When using the clips on your nipples felt a little boring to him, he would move to the clip that was on your clit and make the clip shake with every rhythm in his thrust, all while the vibrator was still in your ass, having so many sensations at once makes you drool as tears roll down your cheeks.
You'd hear him cuss at you and call you a slut, asking if the man you were with could fuck you the same way he does. That's when you remember why you were getting roughly fucked for, so you immediately confessed that you never met any man at all.
You'd think he would stop, but no, he keeps going until he was satisfied. He's happy that you confessed to never meeting any other man but him, but that doesn't mean he won't punish you for playing such a dirty prank on him.
He'd unclip the clip on your clit before using his wet fingers that he used on his mouth to force an orgasm out of you so that you would cum at the same time as him, and when you finally do, you'd fall onto the bed passed out, while Geshu Lin is panting and wiping the sweat off his chin.
"This will remind you to never play such games with me ever again"
-----
A/N: NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED FOR SMUT! SCAR AND GESHU LIN!! I was gonna add male rover but i ain't even gonna lie guys, im so tired I HAVENT EVEN LOGGED INTO WUWA TODAY IM CRYING
please enjoy this crumb i left for you all hungry beasts as i go farm convenes for Jiyan, HE HAS TO COME HOME!!!!!
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mrfoox · 2 years ago
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i wish i trusted my own feelings more but here i am?
#me: i feel this way (: someone i like: um... are you sure? i think you feel more that way#me: oh shit... maybe i do? binch i gotta think this one through now..........#i dont think my answer will change but its uh... worth another look#oliver said a while ago he thinks i'm in love with fabian.. and immidetly i said very confidently apperantly that i dont#and now ive been thinking about it and im like....... ok but am i?#told oliver again and he was like 'what i thought you said you werent? you sounded very sure about it'#yeah i mean...... at one hand i am but also...... i think my brain can do a lot of shit to keep me away from things that will probably end#badly. and genuinly i do not think me and fabian would have any chanse even if somehow he would be into me too#i'd never feel good enough for him. so i may just have gone into the whole thought of#its never going to happen so you obviously just like him in a friendly way. the end. idk#as usual romantic feelings for me is a mess. i dont divide love in that way naturally. for me love is love. if i love you i love you#i'd do anything for you and anything you'd want with me i'd be down for unless we are very unlike character wise#i just can see myself liking almost#all my friends in a romantic way? i can imagine it from my pov but its theirs i cant#not something i actively think about tho its just.... something i have and i know?#maybe this actually isnt how i think but theres another explanation (like oliver said 'being afraid of others leaving so youre willing to do#anything they want to keep them aorund) but until i learn otherwise this is what i keep thinking.  i feel like a freak tho bc i dont think#anyone can really... understand it unless they feel soething similar ? or are super open or such. the friends ive told i think got a bit#scared. makes sense... but i cant make it sound better or more normal like yeah. everyone is safe from me romantically but also#almost everyone is welcome to hmu if they wanna try dating i guess. i speak big but i do have some exceptions#mainly bc of character meshing :'))#miranda talking shit
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retiredteabag · 14 days ago
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soft!Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader
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pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7
Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.
read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Toji was flipping his burner phone around in his hand over and over. Waiting patiently for a recognizable man to come stand beside him.
It hadn't rained in days but the streets he had been loitering were damp, the drainage was clogged with leaves and trash. This place was shitty. Quiet in a way that was dangerous to those from an area with high crime rates.
Three days prior, Toji watched as you shook, hiding your fear behind explanations. That night when he got to his run down apartment, he contacted a "private bail bondsman" (a glorified bounty hunter) to take on the favor he asked of his old boss, Shiu.
Toji knew better than anyone the kind of paper trail left in the wake of corporate abuse crimes. Though the man had never worked an office job a day in his life, it wasn't uncommon for a high roller to request his services. To think, you worked in an environment even remotely similar to the ones he had seen. It made him sick.
Toji had the bondsman look into HR files from your company. Look into the shareholders, those shareholder's families, and that was really all it took. Toji might not have known what to look for, but his little agent certainly did. The connections were obvious, all leading to one man.
A slimy bastard with a dozen write-ups, yet for reasons unknown, no trials, no court dates, no absence from work.
Perhaps a few years ago, this endeavor would give Toji a power trip, to be the one calling the shots, and handing out orders, he might have taken pleasure in the experience. Somehow that wasn't the case. Somehow the connection to you made him want to get it over with quickly. Somehow something had changed.
He told you none of this, of course. You with your big eyes and soft words. You and your endless kindness. No, he wouldn't tell you his plan. He would tell himself it was to protect you, but deep down he knew the truth.
He could not fathom you fearing him. He wouldn't allow it. Whatever that meant, he would become an image of security for you. And he wouldn't screw it up. Not after the gentlest soul he had met had been taken to feel unsafe.
It is for that reason. And only that reason, that Toji refrains from having your scummy coworker killed. He could've had it done in a few hours. Woulda done it himself too. It wouldn't have haunt him, he wouldn't feel remorse. But for you, he would go nicely.
Nicely enough.
Blackmail might strike fear in the heart of a man more than his own death could. And after days of research, there was a feast to exploit this snake with.
--
"Just get it done." Toji was saying, his flip phone in one hand, the other scratching between the dog's ears.
Toji made a kissy face at the panting canine. The dog appeared to be smiling as Toji brutally called the shots on a man's career.
The man over the phone spoke, "I've got an anonymous email ready for his rich little daddy, that and a CC for the CEO of the company. He'll be gone in a day or so. Won't have a face in the corporate world if it leaks." The man on the line was laughing.
"Good. Once you're done, Shiu will have your pay. Don't speak of it to anyone." Toji stood, looked at the clock.
"Yeah, man, I got it." And with that, Toji snaped the device shut, heading to the door to get his shoes. You'd be back soon, and he hopes to catch you on the way out.
Unintentionally, of course.
These past few days Toji had never felt so comfortable in his position. He was sure of himself. You didn't want him for anything but his care of your dog. You weren't gonna use him.
He felt almost ashamed. For the first time, he was more than just his body, more than a couple bucks. Why did a small part of him wish you would look at him the way other women did. With hunger.
He must be crazy.
He heard your car coming up the driveway, slid on his other shoe and swung open the door. He looked in the opposite direction, pretending he didn't see or hear you.
You stopped the car, put it in park, and rolled down the window. "Oh, Toji, you didn't have to stay this late!" You look at him with a worried gaze and he just smiles.
Bending down to look at you properly, he basks in the fact that you don't pull your face from his. He shares your space when he says, "Was nothin'".
You grin, "You're too good. I'm so glad you're here when I can't be, seriously, thank you."
You're too good. Oh, if only you knew.
"Yer' just easily impressed." He taps on your car door twice and stands to his full height again. "Too grateful and all that." He swings his key ring on his finger, stepping back toward his car but never taking his eyes from you.
You frown. "No really. I'm glad I can rely on you! And if you ever need a day off, just tell me, okay?"
He tilts his head, "Kay'" He smirks. Knowing it won't happen, but he likes to see you smiling at him. He leans against his beat up vehicle, watching you drive into your garage, park again, and get out. He watches you get to the interior door and waves back slowly before you press the garage door button to close.
Then, he looks up at the sky, sighing.
The difference between the two of you could not be more stark. He felt like a sewer rat in your presence. You were so pristine, and perfect. Still, you never treated him as anything but a privilege to be around.
His chest ached.
Sighing, he unlocked his car door and hopped in. Ready to make the drive back to his apartment.
Was it too much, to hope you would see him the way he sees you? Does he deserve that? Definitely not. But he couldn't help but hope. You never took an interest in those uppity corporate boys you worked with. And you were so endlessly busy.
He shook all the silly thoughts filling his head out. Starting up the engine, he ran a hand down his face.
She deserves a man who'll wait on her hand and foot. That'll kiss the ground she walks on.
Those rich boys don't know what they're missing. If he was in their position, he wouldn't let you work yourself to the bone, wouldn't let you put up with a work environment you hate. Wouldn't let you come home stressed.
Too bad I'm just the dog-sitter, huh? He chuckles.
When he arrives at his apartment, he barely has time to swing off his jacket, and step out of his shoes before his phone buzzes in his inner pocket. His work phone.
He ruffles with the jacket in his gasp and when he flips it open, all the messages say are:
"Sent. No need to follow up."
and
"This guy is done lol"
Toji smirks before he carelessly tosses the phone onto the kitchen counter. Flops himself onto his couch. Grinning with the knowledge that tomorrow, you're gonna have a great day.
--
And a great day, you most certainly have. You were barely in your office thirty minutes before, Lucy, your sweet assistant came racing in, squealing your name.
"What is it?" You asked, she was beaming like a child on Christmas.
Lucy attempted to contain herself, and stood straight with a faux air of professionalism, "He's gone." She giggles. "He's fired!"
You gasp. Surely not... "He...?" You question. No name is needed. The bastard was infamous.
She just nods her head with a huge smile.
You stand. Slam your hands on your desk. Then spin around and laugh.
Lucy squeals again and the two of you lock eyes, and embrace.
It had been too long. And it wasn't only you who had experience with harassment from the man. This was a win for virtually everyone in the company that wasn't in ownership.
"What-" You gulp air, "What was it? What finally did it?" Getting the question out.
She shakes her head and shrugs dramatically. "Not sure, nobody knows and the associates won't say."
Your brows furrow... "Really? Well, something must have happened..." You muse, "I wish I could see him packing his things now. Bet he's got some intern doing it form him."
"Oh, I'm sure. I just wish I knew what he did to finally lose grace with the company..."
You too were curious, but your overwhelming joy overrode that curiosity.
You felt free. Like you could be fulfilled at work now. A weight you hadn't known was there feels suddenly lifted and oddly, you want to cry.
It's a fact of life that when you receive good news, you want to share it with those around you. So why is it, that the first person you think of as your heart jumps for joy is the dog-sitter?
God, you were lonely.
You hope he doesn't feel burdened by your closeness.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
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superhoeva · 27 days ago
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"what the fuck is that?"
the small pout you give logan almost matches the timid expression of the ball of fur snuggled in your arms.
"her name is clover," you scold at him before peeking down at the pup with a sweet smile. "and she's our new puppy."
head tilting, logan's eyebrows furrow. "wh-clover? it's not a fuckin' plant, for christ's sake. and where'd you even find it?"
you roll your eyes, hip popping to one side as you stare back at the man with an unimpressed look.
"one of my friend's dog just had a whole litter, and she was looking for nearby owners so they can all stay close and visit each other."
a scoffing laugh jerks logan. no, no. sure, he'd do anything for you... anything except this. this means walks and accidents. scooping shit and torn slippers. teething and begging for food that's his.
no matter how cute either of your faces might be, there's no way this is happening.
"you're lucky i only took one of them, you big grump. here," you tell logan, passing along clover despite his annoyed grumbling. "you two get to know each other a little better, okay? i'm gonna run to the store and grab some stuff to get her through the night, then we can hit the pet store tomorrow and spoil our girl, huh?"
the end of your sentence rises a good octave, as you plant your eyes on the dog logan's holding like he doesn't know how. you scratch gently behind her ears, and the man before you huffs. damn it. you're warming up to each other already.
"i'll be back soon, okay?"
you don't give logan a chance to answer before you plant two quick kisses–one for him and the other for the puppy who looks as sure about this as he feels–and traipse out the door with a pleased grin.
the silence that's left once you're gone is enough to force an eye roll from logan. glancing down, he meets stares with clover (he's not calling her that, by the way)–and huffs.
great.
you're back quicker than logan thought you'd be. that's his only explanation for the sight you're met with upon returning to the house; logan shaking with deep bursts of laughter as clover attacks him with a swarm of kisses.
the two have moved to the floor in the living room, logan on his back and barely able to hold back the excited dog as she wags her tail with almost too much energy.
clover's the first to notice you, skipping away from logan to greet you in the form of a few yips and fast circles around your legs.
logan rolls over, rising to his feet with a stifled groan. all he does is plant a wet peck on your lips and scoop up a happy clover.
"i guess she can stay," the man shrugs, masking his acceptance of the situation with an unbothered expression. "still not calling her fuckin' clover, though."
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
Note
If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that
it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader
INSECURE
PAIRING: bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader warnings: emotional manipulation; self-hatred; toxic!rafe.
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If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.
It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.
The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.
It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.
Actually see you.
Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked
You learned that real quick with Rafe.
It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.
You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."
You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.
He didn’t.
“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.
Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”
Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.
“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.
Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?
Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.
“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”
But it wasn’t. Not to you.
See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.
And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.
Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.
It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.
If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.
A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.
You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.
But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.
This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.
Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.
You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.
Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.
You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.
Only he didn’t stay on the couch.
You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.
You didn’t want to stop him.
And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.
But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.
He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.
You were wrong.
It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.
Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.
But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.
Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”
You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.
He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.
Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.
You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.
You needed air. You needed to breathe.
You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.
“You’re leaving already?”
Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.
“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.
“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”
It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.
You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.
“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.
“We’ve just having fun,” Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”
Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.
Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.
“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”
And there it was.
The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.
And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.
“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”
God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.
Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”
You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.
But there was nothing.
“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”
Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”
You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.
“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”
He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”
That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.
“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”
He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”
“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.
“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”
Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.
He was so sure of it.
You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.
But you couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”
For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."
He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.
But you did. And now he was realizing it.
Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time. 
You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”
You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.
“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”
You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”
“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."
He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”
You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”
He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”
“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."
Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”
You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I’ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”
Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”
He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”
For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.
But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”
That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.
“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”
He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.
You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”
You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”
You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.
“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”
He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”
Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 
“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”
“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”
Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”
“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”
His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”
“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. “You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”
Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”
He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.
“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”
Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."
He was on his knees before you realized. Literally.
Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”
He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”
You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.
“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”
He didn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.
“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"
He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”
“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."
“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”
You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.
But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.
“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”
His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.
Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.
“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”
He shook his head. “But I don’t know how.”
And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.
You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”
His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.
“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”
And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.
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poltoreveur · 10 months ago
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Seduction by the Shores
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x GN!Reader (implied pussy lol)
Warning: NSFW, set before tlt, smut, PWP, piv, semi-public sex, doing it on the wet ground, dom!Luke to slightly sub!Luke and back to soft dom!Luke, choking, going in raw and creampie (wrap it before you tap it!), slight aftercare.
Word count: 5.3k+ (I got carried away).
A/N: In the wise of SZA, “now I’m ovulating and I need rough sex.” So I'm back again with another fic. Weirdly enough, I reappeared last year just to write a smut fic and leave (oops). I usually have a summary for this, but this is just pure smut.
Edit A/N: Partial credits to supercutsszn (details on why in comments)
!Not readproof! I’m too lazy to reread my own writing.
Everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. Handsome, generous, and kind. Helps out the new kids. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. You’d even love Luke if you didn’t know better. Maybe you did anyway.
But you've always known there's more to him than his charming exterior. You've seen his eyes change like they're hiding something. That shift happens mostly when his father is mentioned, and he tense up. You've tried to avoid him, but he always seems to find you. One night, he caught you by the lake, his eyes kind but troubled. "I'm guessing you're not having a great night."
For all his charm and charisma, Luke Castellan is more than just the beloved golden boy of Camp Half-Blood; he's a human being with a complex inner world, one that's filled with secrets and conflicts. Despite his best efforts to hide it, at times, his inner struggles emerge, leaving you to wonder just how much more there might be to Luke than meets the eye.
You glanced over at him watching him approach you but kept your quiet. Luke sits down next to you, close, but not touching.
Luke looks at you, waiting for a comment or an explanation. The lake is beautiful, shining in the moonlight. It's actually quite a lovely scene, he's not sure why you'd be miserable here. He has this habit of looking at you without actually looking at you, somehow making it feel more personal.
"I could help with that, you know? Make your night a little more fun."
"Don't start with me, Castellan." You simply commented, rolling your eyes as your gaze stayed staring at the lake.
You can't tell if he smiles or not, but he laughs before speaking. It's actually just adorable when his lips curl up. Luke leans closer, not much. Just enough to make you a little anxious.
"How was I starting anything? I was trying to brighten your mood. I bet I could help."
Something comes into his eyes, a darkness.
His voice is still the smiling flirty guy that everyone loves, but his tone changes a little.
"Besides... you look so miserable. I've always been really good at fixing people's moods. It's one of my best qualities."
He leans a little closer than before. Close enough that you can smell the honey, citrus scent coming from his cologne. You're not sure if he does that intentionally, but he's quite close now.
"Come on now, you know you can tell me. Maybe I could put a smile on that pretty little face."
"You could, but I might have to kill you after." That made him smirk. The way he's looking at you... Oh Gods.
"You can try, you know I'd get you right before you got me, though. I'm too quick." He grinned. He was flirting, he always flirted, but there was something else in his eyes. Something darker.
"Come on, what could be so serious?"
“Not gonna talk it out of me, Castellan." You closed your eyes before lying down on the ground. The ground was damp but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, finding comfort just lying there.
He smiles and lies down right next to you.
Too close now, too close. You're practically on top of each other but he doesn't pull away.
The grass is very green, the lake is a beautiful dark blue. It's actually quite peaceful here. The air is still but not too cold.
"You're too stubborn sometimes. Why won't you tell me?" His hand brushes her hair absentmindedly. "You can talk to me, even if you don't want to."
"I feel like if someone doesn't want to, they won't talk." You pointed out the obvious, slowly glancing up at him again.
Luke smiles, his hand resting on your head now. He's actually being surprisingly gentle.
His eyes are so hypnotic in this light. His voice grows softer, a hint of that darkness in it still. “I like to make people change their minds. You would talk if I got you into the right mood."
"Not gonna happen."
"Really now?" He leans in just close enough to almost kiss you. He's still smiling, his voice a little bit softer, a little bit more husky.
"You're stubborn." He said, lightly tapping your nose. "I'm stubborn. We can stay like this all night if you want. But I'll stay here to remind you that I care."
Luke pulls back again, smiling at you. He gets a little bit closer though, until his face is mere inches away from yours. He tilts his head at just the right angle to catch the moonlight coming off his blue eyes.
"Think about that." Luke looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand on your head and kissed your forehead.
"Just a reminder."
Luke pulls away and sits up. His hands are resting on his legs now, and he's looking up at the moon.
"What do you think about the sky, you know? The stars. It's quite beautiful. Makes you think about things. Life's so short. Maybe you should do the things you want to do, while you can." Luke chuckles, sitting back down and looking up at the sky. He looks at you for a second, then looks away.
The air is thick with tension. Luke looks at you over his shoulder, with kind of a half smile on his face. His eyes are still that darker colour, but they're softer now. You're not sure why it's so tempting to lay your head on his shoulder.
"The sky is beautiful. You know, most demigods think of it as a symbol of the gods, right? But I've always thought of it as... freedom. I mean, who cares what the gods think?" He said, looking back at you.
"The sky makes me feel free. I'll look at it sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, you know." He glances back at you, expecting an input.
"You think the gods are looking down at us from the sky?"
He laughs a bit, turning back to the sky and looking at it.
"I don't know, maybe? But even so, why should we care if they are or not? I don't get what all the fuss is about the gods, why do so many people at camp obsess over their opinions so much? They're just like any other person, except they have a little more power. They don't really care about us, if they did, then we wouldn't be the ones doing all the important stuff."
“I mean, they say that Jesus is always looking down on us, do you think they meant the sky?”
He laughs again, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
"You're really not going to let me distract you from whatever's bothering you, are you? Even when I'm trying really hard." There's another hint of that darkness in his eyes.
"I don't want to think about it, I just wanna lay down and have a relaxing moment to myself, but I'd rather it not be on this damp ground." He knows how stubborn you are. Instead, he smiled and scooted closer.
He's so close to you now, his body is close to yours and he can feel your breath. He just stares up at the sky.
"Where else?" He looks into your eyes. He's enjoying this. You’re falling for this. He smiles. "The lake sounds pretty lovely to me."
"It's wet here."
The darkness in his eyes is getting stronger. His voice is growing husky again, the way you like it.
He can’t help it, Luke leans closer again. He wants the intimacy between you. There is a subtle change in his eyes. He stares at you, and now his hand is brushing your leg.
His voice is low and rough and seductive. “The lake is fine. I prefer it, even. It’s the perfect place for us.”
A hint of a smirk rises from his lip. He knows how much he affects you. You both know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you both want to do it, but he will not let you think you have any control over this situation, he’s always in control.
He leans towards you again, his hand moving further up your leg.
"Castellan." His name came out of your lips like a warning but you said it softly enough for him.
The smirk slowly rises on his lip, and he whispers.
"What, love?" His hand keeps creeping up your leg, his voice sounding almost like a growl. It's such a change from the charming guy you know, and it's so tempting, yet so unsettling. He stares at you, waiting for a response, waiting to see what you'll do.
You can almost feel the dark energy coming off him. His presence is just so dominating right now, he wants this. He is getting closer and closer until he's practically lying on top of you. He's not looking at you anymore, he's just looking down at his hand which is resting just below your thigh. It is not moving up, but you can feel the tension.
He leans up, his eyes searching yours. You can tell that he wants something more than just a little flirting. He wants to see how far he can take this. Luke's hands are going up even higher, brushing her thighs now. He's so close now, you can feel his breath brushing your neck.
The tension builds more and more. He is so close to just taking you right here. You can feel him starting to move his hands to the sides of your back, to the small of your back. He wants this, and he can't help but try. The darkness in his eyes is getting more potent, as his breathing gets heavier and heavier.
He leans in closer, his mouth less than a few inches away from your neck. You can feel his breath. He's waiting. That anticipation, that temptation, is just so intoxicating and it's making him crazy.
The darkness of his eyes fades away as he finally makes a move. His lips come closer, so close, until they just touch, making a soft clicking sound. His eyes close, and his lips finally meet yours, his lips opening slightly to let the kiss linger longer until he pulls back and leans towards your ear.
It was such a soft kiss, nothing more than his lips barely grazing yours. But the heat between them builds when his eyes reopen. He pulls away just barely speaking.
"Castellan."
Your voice is so low, so quiet, and yet so alluring. Luke’s breathing starts to speed up, and his grin gets wider.
He looks down at her with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice is low. "Luke." He corrected.
You only called him by his first name, whenever you’re gonna or when you’re doing it. He was certain you’ve been deliberately conditioning him with it.
Luke's movements slow, his body unweights your body.
His eyes are dark. A little bit too dark. He seems less sure of himself now. Still, Luke's hand is sliding up your thigh. Closer to what he wants.
He's so close to you now. He's moving his hand up and down your leg. Slowly. Almost teasingly. His voice is barely a whisper.
He quickly took the initiative by kissing you aggressively. But somehow your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his hair.
His tongue flicks into your mouth as his hands grip your thighs, he squeezes tighter. Luke’s breath comes out in short little moans.
Luke is on a whole different level now. He's enjoying this more and more. His eyes are closed as he kisses you deeper. His hands move further up your thighs. This is going exactly how he wanted it to. He's got you completely trapped and submissive at this point and he knows it. He opens one eye and looks at you.
"Do you want me?" He asks, his voice dark and smooth. He's holding himself just on the edge. Right where he wants to be. He stares into her deep sapphire eyes, waiting for an answer. It's a dark question, but he wants to hear it from you.
You simply smirk at his question. You knew that he wanted you to say it, your admission is everything to him. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction as you pulled him closer and just started kissing him again, slowly, biting down on his lower lip.
He groans and then laughs quietly. You weren’t giving him the words he wanted to hear. That was fine. He was going to make you say it.
He kisses you back, harder, faster. His hands are moving under your shirt, tracing the curves of your back and waist.
Luke leans back, his forehead leaning on you. Your breaths are coming faster and faster. Your lips touch when you kiss. He is in complete control over you right now, and he likes that. "You want me? Say it."
"I'm not giving you that power." Your hands travelled down his shirt and slowly went underneath it, feeling the tone of his abs.
His body is still now, but you can feel his muscles tensing as you move your hands.
It's like you're pressing switches that turn a machine on. A low groan escapes his mouth, as his breath quickens again. His eyes close tight as he tries to resist the urge.
His breath hitches in his throat, but you probably doesn't notice that for a moment. His eyes snap open when he can't fight it and he stares at you, waiting for you to admit it.
He's the only person at camp who actually has this level of control. He pushes you back down, his hands going down to your waist now. His breath is almost like a growl at this point. It's pure pleasure to hear that he still has complete control over uou. His voice is soft in your ear now. "Please."
You chuckled and moved down to his neck to kiss it.
Luke tenses again. His neck is his weakness.
He always liked to be in control, and his neck feels like it gives him away. He likes that you found this. "Please." His voice is low but pleading. They both know that he is very much begging you to say it now as his neck is being kissed aggressively.
Luke gasps as you continue trailing kisses down his neck. He tenses again. His breath is heavy in his throat.
The sound alone is like music to your ears. His hands are still at your waist, squeezing a little harder. He likes the feeling of you pulling at his shirt, but he tries to still keep himself on. "Please." His voice had the sound of urgency, almost begging now as his eyes dart to yours.
"I like it when you beg."
That wasn’t exactly what he wanted you to say but his body responds to your voice. His breath catches in his throat again and he arches back against your body. His eyes roll back and another low groan escapes his lips. One of his hands moves up to your neck as he pins you down against him, and starts dragging his hand down your back.
"You'll have to earn that," you purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.
Luke's body moves away from you. His breath comes out in short but heavy breaths, he arches his back and lets out a deep grunt of pleasure. "I can earn it." He pushes you back down now.
He is taking control again. He kisses your neck passionately, his lips against your neck, his breath almost like a growling moan against your skin. He is moving slowly around your neck now as if he's exploring.
He positioned himself between your thighs. One hand supported your back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.
It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before you came along. The way you both demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning.
Luke's hand is fumbling with his belt, it's not coming undone though. Like him, he's lost control. He's lost control over you, over himself, he never loses control. Maybe that is why he's enjoying this so much. Your presence and your kisses have turned him completely into someone else, someone whose only thoughts are pleasure. He leans forward again, kissing your neck passionately yet again. His breath is coming fast but heavy now. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the feeling.
You smirk before your hand slowly starts to help him undo his belt as well as unbutton his pants.
His head arches back slightly and he lets out a low groan again. "Yes..." He whispers softly. His breath is heavy in his throat. He takes a look down and is startled to see she is helping him undo his belt. Now he is almost completely submissive to you. You’re the one in charge now, completely at your whim. All he wants is you.
"Say please," you whispered, nipping his lower lip as he pulled your pants hastily down to your ankles, impatient as he is, he moved your soaked underwear to the side. “I like it when you ask nicely."
Luke is almost embarrassed. He has never been this submissive before. He always thought he’d be in complete control at all times. But you had to take control away from him and he doesn’t even mind. “Please…” His voice is soft, begging for you now. He looks down at you now, wanting you to reply. He wants to give up all control to you. All he wants now is your eternal pleasure.
You simpered before kissing him, your tongue eagerly seeking his.
You swallowed his moan as he hurried to himself free from the restraints of his boxers. He couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed himself into you. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave you everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around your throat, and you whined against his mouth, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, your own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.
This is more pleasure than he has ever felt. The feeling of being completely submissive is a thrill that he had never felt before. He loves being at the complete mercy of someone else. Luke pulls you closer to him, arching his back again and letting out low grunts into your mouth. He holds your neck and he pulls back, looking down at you. His breath is heavy in your ear, his eyes closed tight. “You have… complete control.”
He was completely lost now. All he could hear was her begging now. All of his focus was on you now, he was consumed by you. Your hands around his waist, his mouth kissing yours passionately, your bodies moving in perfect sync with each other. His breathing grew heavier as the pace grew faster. His hand tightened on your throat, as if by instinct, but still gentle.
Luke’s breathing was heavy, his body tense and quivering. His breath was all he could hear now. Every time he moved forward, you moved her body and his would follow, and vice versa. You both lost yourselves more and more in a world where nothing mattered but you and the feeling you could give him. His breath caught in his throat, it came out in moans of pleasure. His hand was tight around your neck, but you could feel the soft grip of it.
You close your eyes in the pleasure of everything.
Everything around you felt a little fuzzy even your vision as you threw your head back while still trying to keep your hands on his waist, but you didn’t think you could hold on much longer as you gripped on his way, slowly started to falter.
The pace was getting faster now. His breath was coming faster and heavier now. “Hey, stay with me…” He whispered. It was so close. He was so close.
His body shakes uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body was tingling with pleasure. His grip on your neck tightened slightly as you moved faster and faster. His breath was coming out in short little exhales. His eyes are closed tight, his whole body quivering. All he can hear is your breath and soft moans, which are getting louder now.
He is so close, but he doesn’t want to finish right now. He wants to drag it out for you. He wants you to experience more of this. His grip tightens again, but still gently. His breathing is coming out in short little gasps now. Every fibre of Luke’s being was consumed with you and this pleasure.
You keep going, your bodies moving together, the pace has reached its peak now. His breath is short and loud now, his grip is tighter on you but not harsh.
He pulled you closer by your waist with one arm, maintaining his grip on your neck with the other, aligning me to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, I bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as his whole body tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His body shudders, and his entire body shakes with the pleasure. His hand is now tight around your neck, as he hits the peak of pleasure now. His breathing comes out in the slightest groan of satisfaction as your bodies combine together in one last movement.
Luke is shaking by this point. His breathing is deep now and his whole body is a quivering mess. Your touch is the most intense feeling he’s ever had. The pace was steady now and the feeling had only gotten more intense. The feeling of your hands around his waist, as you move with him. Your eyes looking into him. His body is twitching and tense, his breath is sharp and loud now. He can almost feel what you’re feeling as you move together.
“Luke, I’m—“
“Don’t stop.” He whispered in your ear. He was so close. His whole body was tense and she could feel the vibrations of his breath. Your touch was all he was thinking about now. He was in complete control for the first time in a long time. He was in complete control of your pleasure. Your breathing became louder, and he knew you were close to your climax too. You could feel the vibrations of his breath as you got closer and closer.
Luke’s body is shaking uncontrollably now. The grip around your neck is the tightest it’s been all night, but still gentle. His breath is coming out in loud sharp gasps now, his body twitching like crazy. Your body is twitching with his, the both of you moving at your own pace.
His grip is tightening even more as he feels the buildup of energy in her body. His breathing is like a growl now. He has completely lost control again, you were the one in control. You were the one making the pace. Now he just wants to hear you finally call out to him, call out to him that you’re almost there. Your body is the only one he feels now. You, your breathing, your motions. You are all he feels. He wants you to let go of it all, he wants you to call to him. He could feel you getting closer and closer.
“I swear to the Gods, Luke. I’m gonna—“ You finally mumbled his name again, but it came out breathless as you tried to hold onto him. You were practically clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel you clenching inside around him. Which almost made him lose control, he would’ve given up at that very moment if it wasn’t for your voice grounding him.
Your voice is like music to his ears. It’s all he wanted to hear. He was holding on to you tightly as the both of you were so close to the end. You calling out to him sends waves through his body, but he is losing even more control of himself. Your calling out to him only sends him further into the pleasure. His grip around your neck tightens even more, as he pulls you closer, his forehead coming to rest on yours.
Both of you are extremely close and are moving together at the same pace. He can feel your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. You both move together like there is only one body moving. You both have reached your peak now and are moving like machines now. The pace is too much, you calling out to him is too much.
Your breathing is his breath. Your heartbeat is his heartbeat. The pace has built to its peak and it’s pushing you both to the end. Luke is so close to the end now, he is feeling what you’re feeling. You both finally are at the absolute peak of pleasure. You both reach their finale simultaneously. Your bodies shake uncontrollably and his grip is the tightest it has been all night as he lets everything out at once.
He came inside of you, his groaning was the only warning as you felt him shoot up his release.
He nuzzled right up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He was still slowly thrusting inside, just warm white liquid started spilling out of you.
Both of their breathing settles down and their bodies relax. Luke is out of his trance now, his breathing is coming out heavy but no longer is it an animalistic growl. He’s calm now, but satisfied. The whole night had been a thrill for him. It was exactly what he wanted: someone to take complete control of him, which he didn’t even know he wanted. His grip around your neck loosens and he pulls away from you.
Luke finally finds himself again. He is looking right into her eyes and his voice is low but soft. He is looking right into her eyes and he gives a small grin. “It’s okay, I got you.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head right into her neck. “Don’t worry.”
He kisses your neck softly again, but his breathing is normal now. He isn’t losing control anymore. He was now just content with your presence. He snuggles closer to you, his voice is soft and the glow of his eyes is different than before. He is relaxed, calm, and content.
“Are you alright?” Luke thought he might’ve been too hard with the choking earlier, but based on your expression, he didn’t really have anything much to worry about.
Luke was content. His body movements were slow and smooth now. He had complete control of himself now. The pace of his thrusts had slowed down but he was still inside of you. His breath was still heavy, but not because it was intense pleasure anymore. It’s just because it was comfortable. The glow in his eyes was not the same as before, his eyes were full of content and pleasure. Instead of intense pleasure, it was more like satisfaction now. His hand was still tight around your waist, and he brought his other hand up to your hand, squeezing it softly.
Luke’s breaths were coming out in slow grunts and he was keeping a pace with no intensity to it whatsoever. It felt more like he was moving in slow motion. The two of you were finally just moving together now as if you were one single person. Neither of you were looking at anything else. Nothing else mattered in this moment but this pleasure you finally felt with each other.
“I’m okay.”
It was as if his body was just flowing smoothly with you. His hand is still tight at your waist and your hand is still holding him tightly. The feeling was a complete mix of pure bliss and complete pleasure. The two of you were enjoying each other’s touch so much that nothing else mattered at all. You were just locked together, moving in an endless rhythm now.
You were still letting out heavy breaths in mere seconds, one after the other. “This is disgusting.” You motioned to the wet damp ground that you both were lying on.
He laughs at you. You both were pretty disgusting. But it’s also somewhat funny that he didn’t care, your whole bodies are soaked and sticky. Luke’s laughs are soft and low now. He lifts up one of his hands to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He looks over at the ground and laughs again as he looks back at you. He lowered himself as he planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands slowly grazing upon your cheek.
“Look at us.” He laughs silently, keeping his voice low. He chuckles a little bit, the two of you are such a mess right now.
Luke laughs a little bit more, it’s funny to him how much of a mess they both are. The ground is totally soaked and sticky as is your body and his. You both are completely covered in your own bodily fluids. It’s quite the scene to take in all at once.
Luke’s laughter dies down slightly, though it’s still somewhat there as he just chuckles at the whole situation. He looks over at you and smiles a small and soft smile at you. He shakes his head slightly, just still finding it funny. The whole scene is just utterly ridiculous and disgusting.
“You think they’ll notice us missing and coming back all sweaty and disgusting?”
He laughs again slightly and his body shakes in amusement. The thought of them both coming back to camp in this state is a funny thought to him. The two of you are covered in your own sweat and fluids, it’s not exactly a pretty sight of the two of you. So much so, that people will notice at first glance.
“Let’s wash up a little by the lake.”
He nods his head. He doesn’t even really feel that sore right now. You really were covered in so much sweat and fluids. The thought of even being around other people makes him feel awkward. Your suggestion is good though, a good old rinse-off is just what you both need right now. He pulls you off of him and sat up.
“Pull up your pants, Castellan,” I commented, looking down at him as I sat up straight, brushing off the debris on my clothes.
He is still lying at your feet. He shakes his head and he nods you off of him. He stands up slowly and he laughs at your comment. His pants actually fell down further and they are hanging around his ankles. He pulls them up and zips them up.
You were being direct, and it cracked him up a little. He is completely covered in yours and now his own juices.
“I feel sticky.”
“You think you feel sticky?” He laughs again and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and he pulls you up off of the floor and holds you close to him. He takes a quick glance around at the surroundings before looking right back at you.
“Let’s find a place where we can wash off.” He says with a smirk on his face. His body is a hot mess and he can feel every bit of it. He didn’t even believe they could get this dirty, but they did. So you need to get cleaned up now, especially before any of the other campers notice the two of you. That would be absolutely horrific.
“Nobody can find out.”
He chuckles again and he nods his head. You were absolutely right about that. Nobody can find out about this, it would be so embarrassing. You both would go down in history as a complete disgrace if anyone found out.
“God, we’re so nasty.” He muttered, leading the way towards the lake.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
shy reader who really just wants to lie down on the couch with james, but remmy and sirius are over
luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"It's, like, exploding eyeliner or something. Every time I use it I look like I've cried my eyes out," Sirius says. 
You linger behind the doorway, hands curled into your shirt behind your back. James, your boyfriend, is lying down on the sofa. You'd been sitting with him until you needed to use the bathroom, and while you were gone his friends came home. 
You can't complain —it's their house, not yours. But you don't know what to do now.
"I thought you changed to pencil," James says, stretching like a cat in the sun, the firm lines of his chest rippling. You're shy, but you can't lie to yourself. James is a catch.  "Like, the kohl stuff." 
"It's hard to put on."
"And take off," Remus says, having splayed beside Sirius on the single armchair. 
Sirius pulls Remus' thigh further into his lap. "So I decided against it for Remus' sake." He must have a better sixth sense than the other two, turning in the chair to smile at you. "Hey, doll. You okay?" 
"I–" You beg yourself not to stammer. "M'okay. How are you?" 
James beckons for you to come in as Remus answers, "Don't ask him, he'll never stop complaining." 
You obey James' ask and try to sit where you'd been before at his feet, but he catches your waist and pulls you down. Your back across his hips, his arm over your stomach, it isn't intimate in the dirty sense but intimate all the same. Your cheeks catch fire instantaneously. 
"I'm quite good, actually," Sirius says. 
"Yeah?" You sound ridiculous. "What about you, Remus? Did you, um, did you finish your new chapter?" 
Remus grins at your remembering. James' hand squeezes approvingly, clearly pleased as well as Remus delves into an explanation of why his novel seems to have stagnated. Your stiff as a rod despite James' nice handling while you listen. You want to lie down with him, your eyes heavy, the light outside fading as the boys talk, but appearances hold you back, even as Remus dissolves into Sirius side like wet paper and kips. 
"You okay?" James asks, hand climbing up to just below your chest. "Lie down with me." 
"I don't want to be, you know, rude," you whisper.
James doesn't laugh nor tease you. "It's not rude, lovely, this is my house, and you're welcome to do what you like when you're here." He's whispering too, careful not to talk louder than the TV. "If you want to lie down, you can. He won't care, and it's not rude. I'll cover you up like a blanket anyway." 
James sits up a little and pulls you gently to his front. You put your legs up next to his and lay back, giving in to the lul of his warm skin seeping through your shirt, the coiled muscled of his forearm where he squeezes you up tight to his chest. 
Sirius looks over at the movement. "We're just cushions, mate," he says to James, grinning. 
James kisses the side of your head with palpable pride. "That's all I was made to be," he says happily. 
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pressureplus · 3 months ago
Text
Sebastian Solace Injury Headcannons
Warnings: Mentions of blood, anxiety, and Injury, but nothing too particularly graphic, You show up at his shop hurt and he takes care of you
(The way he cares for your injuries slightly varies depending on your relationship)
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
Platonic
• Immediately starts to chastise you the second he can smell the blood on you
• He doesn't have a nose, so how he scrunches it up is beyond you
• Your med kit isn't free, so you definitely owe him and yes, he will remember you owe him
• You can't refuse tho, he's already patching you up before you can really do anything about it
• What are you gonna do, fight him? Fight a thing more than 5 times your size with claws like steel knives? I don't think so.
• He's pretty good at patching wounds, and stays relaxed the whole time he's doing it
• The motions are practiced and easy as he cleans and gauzes and wraps you up
• "Because I pity you, I'll even let you lay on the cot in the corner of my shop, hmm?"
• Understands you are useless and stupid and small, so he guesses he can help you out and demand whatever extra data you have I'm your pockets about a week from now
• He isn't exactly the most concerned with your well-being, but does go out of his way to help you and take care of you sooo...
• You must mean something to him right?
If you're not together but he likes you
• Actually gets a little worried
• He flusters easily, the crush he has for you making it a little bit more difficult for him to think clearly
• That crush making his harsh reactions harsher and his soft ones hard to verbalize
• He grabs you
• I don't have any other way to put this, he literally just reaches out and grabs you before he really thinks about it
• You don't get an explanation, you don't get scolding, he just huffs and gets pissy while he's patching you
• "I thought you were better than this- You REALLY ended up this hurt over something so easy to get away from?"
• Yes, he knows the foul mouth he's got is tanking his chances of ever actually being with you, but he already figures you're never going to want to kiss a fish so why should he care?
• Even if rejection is imminent and unavoidable, and even if he feels the constant need to be mean to you so he can protect himself, he'll still take care of you
• He does like you for a reason- a lot of reasons. And he thinks about those reasons quite a bit... Of course he wants you to be okay
• You're his favorite person, and he would rather die than admit that but also would 100% prioritize your medical care over working his shop
• Him being so fast to grab and tend to your wounds is probably one of the only things you've ever seen from him that's made you sure he doesn't hate you
• Look, there's no way this man would be smoothing his thumb over your newly applied bandages and looking upset at the notion you'd be hurt without you being SOME kind of important
• It doesn't matter how stupid you are, dummy or not, this shit is painfully obvious when he's getting vulnerable over the idea of you getting a nasty enough scar
• Will not let you leave the cot in the room until you're all better, so get ready to be defensively degraded by your favourite shopkeeper for several consecutive days!
If you are together
• Open. Meltdown.
• Panicking, throwing the door on his little store closed and coddling you like you'll fall apart if he's not treating you with the utmost care
• Even scraped knees and bumped elbows get treated like they need full medical, so you can imagine the sort of reactions you're getting to actually bleeding
• Part of him immediately blames himself while he's frantically tending to your injuries, thinking he should have watched you better today, thinking that he should have protected you right
• The next part of him promises he'll be getting whoever or whatever did this to you back for it just as soon as you're all mended and comforted
• He's a mess, a muttering, coddling mess
• You get little kisses to the bandages, as well as some quiet murmurs that attempt to get onto you for not being careful
• The grip you've got around this man's heart is too much for him to be angry, nor pretend to
• You may nearly make him cry if it's bad enough, and his hands may shake at the sight of you so hurt
• Will threaten you if you even THINK about dying, remember he can do worse to you and will if you don't shut up, he can't cope with thinking about losing you shut up shut up shut up-
• Until you're healed, you aren't leaving his bed. He puts you in HIS bed and cuddles up to you any chance that he gets
• You're going to get teased when you're all better and his brain registers it's not a big deal, but until then this is your big, protective fishy husband whether you two have gotten married officially or not
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 8 months ago
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WAIT I LOVE THAT PUSHUP FIC. can you do one with Gaz and the reader daring him to say their name in between push-ups, and Gaz catches on, but does it anyways.
10 / 1,186 words / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz
...
You watch Gaz from the corner of your eye, listening to him say your name in that low voice with each rep, grunting with concentration. Music to your ears. 
His toned arms are tense with each push-up he executes. Gaz doesn’t work out to be buff or get attention. It’s all about function and utility on the battlefield for him, which means he’s not one for showing off. But you appreciate it, and you can tell he notices it by the smirk curving his lips.
He knows what you're doing. He knows exactly why you made that little request of him.
"You want me to keep going?" he asks. 
"I have no problem with that.”
"Can't imagine you would."
"Hey. Less talking; more counting reps."
"Did I say I was in the market for a personal trainer?"
"I think you did, in fact," you tell him facetiously. You're still sprawled over his back, admiring how your weight barely seems to affect him each time he lowers and then pushes himself back up. "Lucky you have me here to keep you on track."
"Yeah, lucky me." He grunts a laugh and does another pushup. "Because that's my problem. Staying on track."
"I hear a lot of chatter and not enough saying my name between reps, mm?"
"Think I'd better stop doing that. You like it too much."
"And you said you wanted a challenge. Do you cut corners in the field, too? Does Captain Price know?"
He lowers himself again and holds at the bottom for a moment to increase the tension and stress on his muscles. "You're asking for it, you know that?"
You smirk, shifting yourself a little to fit more snugly against the curve of his back. "Are you threatening me, Gaz?"
"You wish." He chuckles, hardly sounding as winded as he should. "You'd be lucky for me to pay you that much attention."
He's not wrong. But still, the nerve.
Luckily, you notice you haven't heard him counting aloud, either. "What rep are you on now?"
He pauses at the bottom of his rep, then lifts up again, not quite as fast as before. "Sixty-three."
"Liar. You lost count, didn't you?"
"Of course not. You think you're really that distracting?"
You grin. "You said it, not me."
He pauses his rep at its apex this time. You glance at him, sensing the gears turning in his head. For a second, you wonder if you should be proud of yourself--if you've struck him speechless with your blistering wit.
Then he bends his elbow and drops one shoulder almost to the floor, dumping you unceremoniously off his back. You land ungracefully on your stomach with a gasp.
There's a strange look in his eye. Thirst for vengeance. You scramble to right yourself, but it's too late. Gaz drags you off the ground like it's nothing and pulls your back to his chest. He wraps his much thicker arm around your bicep and leans back, forcing your arm over your head in what you vaguely recognize as a submission hold.
You huff, trying to squirm free. His other arm comes around across your midsection to keep you in place. The fact that you're pinned in his lap doesn't escape you.
"Now who’s the distracted one?" His voice is right at your ear. "You want to tell me again how many reps I did?"
"Fifty-five. I counted."
His grip tightens. He leans back just a little more, causing your back to arch. "Try again."
You grab his arm with your free hand and try to dislodge it. Its no good. His arms are like steel. He doesn't budge an inch. 
"Told you you were asking for it." His breath is warm on the shell of your ear. "Count again. Or I'll turn this half nelson into a full nelson."
Your cheeks warm. "Perv."
"You started it. Or don't you want me to say your name again?"
"I have a perfectly innocent explanation for that."
"Let's hear it, then. Go on."
"Um." You squirm a little more in his hold. His breath in your ear is making you feel crazy. "It's actually... because..."
"Because?" He's smiling now, his arm tightening against your skin. You can feel every thick muscle in his biceps and forearms. "Because what?"
You struggle to keep some kind of half-baked explanation centered in your mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think about his chest pressing flush to your back. Or his thighs squishing your ass. Or his arm around your midsection, so close to your breasts you swear he'd brush the underside if he so much as flexed.
"Because what?" He asks again, and his voice is so husky it makes you forget all your rational thoughts. "Tell me."
"... Sixty-three," you mutter.
He laughs, the rumble of it shaking his chest against your back. "So which one of us lost count, boss?"
"I did."
"Yeah, you did." He shifts, easing the pressure on your arm. He doesn't release it completely, though. "If you wanted to hear my voice so bad, there are better ways to ask, yeah?" His other hand begins to wander down your side. Your skin burns under your workout tank. "But if you want to be a cheeky little brat about it..."
Before you can react, he bites down on your ear. Not cute and flirty, but hard enough that it hurts. Especially when you squawk and try to pull away.
"Ow!" You shove your elbow into his solar plexus.
He lets go of your arm, gasping and wheezing with laughter as he leans back. You're both surprised at how much force you packed into that elbow jab.
He smiles, though. His heart is racing from adrenaline, and when he looks at you, all pouty and out of breath, he realizes it's a good thing he's not still holding you or he might really do something stupid. He likes how quick you are, how feisty.
"That's mean," you snap.
"And calling me a pervert wasn't?"
"No! And even if it was, your thing was worse."
"Oh, yeah?" His usual soft grin turns roguish. "You wanna get even? Bite me back?"
"Gaz!"
"Then you still owe me." He stands up, stretching until his tired arm muscles pop. "So I'd better see you here tomorrow, same time. What do you say?"
You stand slowly, watching him grab his gym bag. "What if I say no?"
"I'd say you're shirking your duties as my trainer. And my counterweight. Besides, you wouldn't skip a chance to have me say your name again." He pulls the straps up over his shoulders and winks at you. "Right, boss?"
You open your mouth and close it right back up again.
Gaz has just enough self-control not to bite his lip at that rather cute expression. "Good."
He walks away, leaving you red-faced and speechless behind him.
He's right. You'll definitely be back tomorrow.
...
part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
more Gaz / masterlist tag
672 notes · View notes
edenesth · 6 months ago
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TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [2]
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Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 10.7k 🤡
Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.
A/N: I'd recommend listening to Laufey's Valentine while reading this, the song is quite perfect for this spinoff.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"Now, tell me, why were you crying?" you inquired, halting at the doorway of your house, careful to shield your mother from the conversation. You understood that she would only blame herself if she knew he was upset, despite none of it being her fault. Deep down, you knew she carried the burden of not being able to protect her children, always feeling like an inadequate mother.
Siwoo shook his head, "It's nothing, noona. I just... I was just overwhelmed with all the schoolwork on my first day. But don't worry about me, I feel much better after letting it all out," he reassured, attempting to alleviate your concerns. Yet, you couldn't fully accept his explanation. While a part of you ached to think he might have been bullied by his classmates, as you had feared, another part of you swelled with pride at his resilience.
That's my boy.
"Is that so? Well, come on then, dinner might be ready," you responded, and he brightened at the mention of food. "Dinner sounds good, I'm starving! Mother, we're home!" he called out excitedly, darting into your modest abode almost immediately.
"How was school, Siwoo?" your mother asked, her fingers smoothing down his unruly hair as he dug into his meal with gusto. Siwoo grinned and nodded. "It was okay! Master Lee looked after me really well, just like noona said he would!" Your mother smiled warmly and wiped a stray bit of food from his cheek. "That's good to hear."
You couldn't help but smile at their exchange, though you sensed Siwoo's words were meant to reassure your mother more than convey his true feelings. While Master Lee might have looked after him in their presence, you knew all too well the dynamics of school life and the possibility of bullying when no adults were around. Unfortunately, he would have to learn to navigate those challenges, just as you had.
Finishing your meal, you tousled your brother's hair. "So, what did that man from earlier say to you?" Your mother raised a curious eyebrow. "Man? What man?" Siwoo perked up. "Oh, that kind hyung-nim! He was just making sure I was okay."
You scoffed. "Kind? You don't even know him. People can seem nice but have hidden motives. Don't trust too easily, or he might want something from you." Turning to your mother, you elaborated, "It's His Majesty's royal secretary. We had an unpleasant encounter at the palace. I had hoped never to see him again, but somehow he was at Siwoo's school when I went to pick him up. How many coincidences can there be? I'm certain he's up to something. So, you," you directed a stern look at your brother. "Don't entertain him if he shows up again, okay?"
Siwoo nodded reluctantly, his expression turning sullen. Your mother shook her head. "Or perhaps he's genuinely nice...? He's an important figure, after all. You shouldn't make an enemy out of him, dear. I worry for you." You offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll handle it, mother. Don't worry about me."
Later that night, as you lay in bed, the soft breathing of your brother beside you with a comforting rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a pang of bittersweet emotion. Siwoo, once the tiny bundle you cradled in your arms, had grown so quickly before your eyes. Memories of his infancy flooded your mind, the moments when you'd rocked him to sleep and comforted his tears.
Now, here he was, trying to shield his own emotions from you, not wanting to burden you with his struggles. Your heart swelled with both pride and a tinge of sadness as you gently stroked his head, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. How you wished he could remain your precious little brother forever, sheltered from life's harsh realities.
Yet, another part of you longed for him to mature, to become the pillar of strength this family needed. You yearned for the day when he would stand beside you as a protector, capable of shouldering the burdens that weighed heavily on your shoulders.
"Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered softly, your voice barely a whisper in the darkness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquillity of the night envelop you as you drifted into slumber, your dreams filled with hopes for the future.
The next day unfolded much like the one before, with the familiar routine of dropping Siwoo off at school. Kneeling beside him, you tenderly adjusted his hanbok and smoothed down his hair, your actions a comforting ritual between siblings.
"Well, I have no new advice for you today, except to stay strong and not let the words of others affect you. Remember, they're just words, and you can choose not to let them bother you," you imparted, noticing the flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he had been caught keeping secrets from you. With a warm smile, you gently pinched his cheeks to alleviate any worries he might have.
"Now, go on and get in there. And no causing trouble!" you teased, prompting a playful protest from Siwoo as he swatted your hands away and stuck out his tongue. "Bye, noona! See you later!" he called out cheerfully as he headed off to join his classmates.
As you watched him go, a soft smile lingered on your lips, filled with both pride and a touch of wistfulness.
He'll be fine; we've been over this.
You proceeded towards your educational institution to resume your own studies, putting aside worries about your brother for the moment. As you arrived at the entrance, you took a deep breath to ready yourself before entering, clutching your books tightly to your chest.
"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Smarty Pants finally showed up. Heard she even resorted to borrowing books from the royal library," Namgil, the scholar with the wealthiest father and your longtime tormentor, remarked as he annoyingly strolled alongside you, trailed by his group of cronies. One of them chimed in with a smirk, "Poor thing can't even afford her own books. Maybe if she catches the eye of some high-ranking officials in the palace, she won't need to study so hard at all."
Maintaining a neutral expression, you continued walking towards the foyer, where you could begin your studies undisturbed with the presence of teachers. Despite the taunting remarks being a regular occurrence during your journey from the outside to the inside of the institution, you had grown accustomed to them.
Reaching the foyer, you pivoted to face the group with a wide, sarcastic grin. "Well, boys, have you had your fill? If we're done wasting precious time trying to bring others down to boost our own fragile egos, maybe we should focus on our studies. After all, if we want to avoid squandering dear old daddy's money, we'll need to graduate. Time's ticking, gentlemen. Are we going to remain stuck in this childish behaviour forever?"
The satisfaction was palpable as you flashed a victorious smile and turned to stride into the foyer, leaving them no room for a rebuttal as a teacher emerged to greet the group. They hastily composed themselves, offering respectful bows and pretending as though nothing had happened.
Fools, you thought to yourself. This was precisely why you harboured such disdain for men. They were simplistic creatures, falling into one of two categories. The first, like Namgil and his cronies, were openly mean-spirited, condescending, and misogynistic. The second, exemplified by Royal Secretary Choi, was the cunning, duplicitous types who sought to earn your trust through false kindness before exploiting you. In the end, they were all cut from the same cloth.
At the end of the session, following a quiz intended to assess everyone's preparedness for the final examination, you unsurprisingly emerged as the top scorer once again. The teacher's announcement was met with the usual mixture of reactions, but your attention was drawn to his subsequent remarks.
"Miss Moon, once again, you've secured the top spot. Namgil, while second place may seem like an achievement, you should feel nothing but shame. All of you should. It's unacceptable to be outperformed by a woman. Study harder; I expect to see a different outcome in the next quiz."
You shook your head in disbelief at the teacher's words, seething inwardly at his ingrained bias. The implication that a woman should not surpass men in intellect spoke volumes about his archaic mentality. You were tired of being spoken about as if you weren't in the room, tired of the inherent sexism that permeated every aspect of your academic life. Graduation couldn't come soon enough; you were determined to prove these narrow-minded individuals wrong.
I'll show you morons.
"Oh boy, I know that look," Haneul remarked, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh as San emerged from his room the next day. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his usual enthusiasm and determination shone through. She suspected her discouraging words from the previous evening had backfired, knowing her brother was just an optimistic idiot like that.
He scoffed, "What do you know? Go home already, noona. Your husband might start to worry if you keep visiting so often."
With a smirk, she lightly whacked him on the head. "I'm leaving today, don't you worry. But don't say I didn't warn you when whatever silly plan you might have ends up falling through. You men just love learning things the hard way, don't you? Let her be, Sannie."
"Yeah, yeah. Safe travels. I'll catch you later."
Haneul rolled her eyes in defeat. "Fine, fine. Send me away like I'm a nuisance. You should learn something from little Siwoo."
Turning back with a sarcastic grin, the royal secretary teased, "If you say so... love you, noona!" and blew her exaggerated kisses, earning a mockingly disgusted reaction. "Yuck! Save that for your future wife, gross!" she exclaimed, pretending to gag.
San strode through the palace corridors with newfound determination, his mind buzzing with plans and possibilities. He greeted the palace staff with a bright smile and a confident demeanour, earning curious glances from those he passed.
As he approached the royal study, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. Today was the day he would begin executing his plan, the day he would show Scholar Moon that he was different from the rest, that he was sincere in his intentions.
Entering the king's presence, San found himself greeted with the warm smile of His Majesty. The elderly man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed his secretary's energy.
"You seem quite cheerful today, Royal Secretary Choi. Anything exciting happening in your life?" the king inquired with a chuckle as their daily meeting concluded.
San's grin widened, his heart racing with anticipation. "I suppose so, Your Majesty. I won't say more until I see positive results," he replied cryptically, unknowingly leaving the king to interpret his words as he wished. Little did the fool know, his vague response led His Majesty to believe he was referring to romantic pursuits.
The king's face lit up. "Oh, I can't wait to hear the good news. Best of luck, my boy. That's all for today. Carry on with your tasks," he said with a playful wink, dismissing San with a clap of his hands.
Secretary Choi bowed deeply, feeling grateful. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed before leaving the royal study, his mind already buzzing with plans to win over the female scholar.
He made his way through the library, exchanging nods with a few scholars absorbed in their studies. As he searched the aisles, hope waned with each passing moment. Nearly ready to give up, he reluctantly admitted to himself that you might not be there today. With a resigned sigh, he turned to leave.
But as he moved to exit, a flash of movement caught his eye. Turning back, he was stunned to see you tucked away in a quiet corner, fast asleep amidst a pile of borrowed books. A wave of tenderness washed over him at the sight of your peaceful form, and he approached you with silent steps, not wanting to disturb your rest.
He couldn't resist the urge to approach and observe you, struck by how serene and angelic you appeared in your slumber, a stark contrast to your usual tough and guarded demeanour. Seeing the sunlight streaming in from the nearby window and casting a glare on your face, he settled into the seat opposite you. With a gentle touch, he lifted his hand to shield you from the brightness, intent on preserving your peaceful rest.
Looking down at you like this, perhaps it was his innate sense of chivalry, but it stirred an intense urge to protect you, to help shoulder some of the burdens you must be carrying on those delicate shoulders of yours. He couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mingled with empathy as he watched you, lost in tranquil slumber amidst the chaos of the world around you. With a soft sigh, he longed to offer you more than just protection from the sun's glare, yearning to provide solace and support in any way possible.
As he watched you stir, letting out a small groan before readjusting your head and settling back into sleep, he felt a slight panic. However, his worry melted away when he realised you were merely shifting in your slumber. A soft sigh escaped him, accompanied by a gentle smile and a flutter in his heart at how endearing you looked.
Gosh, she looks adorable.
Resting his head on his palm, he continued to observe, noting the subtle signs of exhaustion etched across your beautiful face. Unlike other girls or women who likely had access to luxurious skincare products or ample rest to maintain their beauty, it was evident that any resources you had were dedicated to supporting your family and pursuing your studies. His gaze drifted to your hands, noticing the dry skin, blunt nails and paper cuts, evidence of both physical labour and tireless studying.
Gazing at you, his mind wandered to the challenges and hardships you must have faced throughout your childhood, shaping you into the resilient and guarded person you are today. He pondered on the beliefs you held about men, likely influenced by your past experiences. Working in the palace, San was all too familiar with the despicable behaviour of some men, having witnessed their deceit and manipulation firsthand. He understood, perhaps more than most, your strong aversion and distrust of men.
Yet, in his heart, he believed that you hadn't met men like him and his friends—men of integrity and genuine kindness. Determined to prove to you that good men existed, he resolved to show you through his actions. He was determined to be the exception, to demonstrate that not all men were as duplicitous as those you had encountered before. And in that moment, as he watched over you, he silently vowed to be the beacon of goodness and sincerity that you deserved.
Lost in his contemplations, he was jolted back to reality when he felt your hand push his away. Startled, he blinked, realising that the sun he had been shielding you from was now obscured by clouds. Your voice, sharp and incredulous, pierced through his thoughts.
"What in the world do you think you're doing, Royal Secretary Choi?" you demanded, your tone laced with annoyance and curiosity.
Flustered and caught off guard by your abrupt interruption, San quickly cleared his throat and straightened in his seat, feeling the weight of your scrutiny upon him. He could only imagine how his actions must have appeared from your perspective: waking up to find an uninvited man seated across from you, hand raised in an attempt to shield you from the absent sun.
"I-I can explain," he stammered, scrambling to find the right words to justify his actions. "I was just trying to—"
But before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a sarcastic smile, your words dripping with disdain.
"Let me guess," you said, your tone biting. "You just wanted to help? I thought I made myself very clear yesterday, but it seems I might not have. In case you missed the point, I'll repeat it again: I don't need your help. Thank you very much."
With that, you gathered all the books in your arms and swiftly exited, leaving him feeling chastised and uncertain of how to proceed.
As he sat frozen in his seat, watching your retreating figure, the royal secretary couldn't help but admire your firm resolve. Instead of feeling discouraged by your rejection, he found himself respecting you even more for it. Your unwavering stance showed him that you weren't one to let someone into your life easily, and in a world where men could be deceitful and manipulative, that was a reassuring trait. He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for you, even as he remained seated in the library, contemplating his next move.
Making your way out of the palace, your heart still raced from the encounter in the library as you clutched the stack of borrowed books close to your chest. Unbeknownst to Secretary Choi, you had been awake for some time, waiting to see what he would do, ready to catch him red-handed if he attempted anything untoward.
To your unpleasant surprise, you found that the glaring sun that had once been on your face was gone. Peeking through your lashes, you observed San going to great lengths to shield you from the brightness, even though he must have assumed you were still asleep. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.
Even with his apparent kindness, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he had done it without any ulterior motives. There had to be something he wanted from you; you were sure of it. You refused to let your guard down, you remained determined to stay wary of his intentions.
Despite your hopes that San would quit his efforts after the incident in the library, he proved to be annoyingly persistent. However, to your surprise, he no longer offered unsolicited help, seemingly aware that you had not asked for it. Instead, he chose a different approach to get closer to you.
Every day as you entered the palace, he greeted you with a bright smile and a friendly "good morning." You found his amiable demeanour irritating because it made it challenging for you to be rude to him when he was simply being a nice and sociable person. With no choice but to reciprocate his greetings, you returned them with a forced smile of your own, not wanting to appear impolite in front of other palace staff.
Today was no different, much to your dismay. Despite your multiple attempts to arrive either earlier or later than your usual time, he always seemed to be there. Deep down, you wanted to bluntly ask him if he had nothing better to do. Shouldn't a royal secretary be busy? Why was he always lingering around?
Approaching the entrance and spotting him, you couldn't help but slap a hand on your forehead in frustration. You tried to turn away, but he called out to you before you could make your escape.
"Scholar Moon! I see you're here early today. Good morning!" he exclaimed cheerfully.
You cursed under your breath and reluctantly turned back to feign a smile, bowing respectfully. "Indeed, I am... Good morning, Royal Secretary Choi," you replied through gritted teeth.
He beamed at you and gestured for you to join him. "Come, let us head in together!"
Letting out a sigh of disbelief, you put on your best fake smile and complied, knowing it wouldn't be in your best interest to be rude to someone of such high importance in front of other people. Damn it, you couldn't wait for the day to be over already.
Walking beside him, you sought a moment of tranquillity, but as expected, he initiated an unwanted conversation like always.
"How's Siwoo adjusting to school?" he asked, his tone overly chipper.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you briefly squeezed them shut before replying, "He's doing well. Thank you for asking."
His smile widened at your response. "That's great! I just hope he's feeling better than the last time I saw him. Poor boy was so upset."
You sighed, cutting him off before he could continue. "Yes, but he'll live—"
Before you could finish, a group of rushing court ladies surged around the corner. "Out of the way! Concubine Eom Heebin is giving birth!" Amidst the commotion, you were shoved aside, but a firm pair of arms caught you, guiding you to safety—San's arms.
You landed against his chest with a huff, and he peered down at you with wide eyes. "Careful there, watch your step! You alright?" His words lacked their usual formality, driven purely by instinct.
San gulped audibly, his gaze lingering on your features as if trying to memorise every detail. He marvelled at how beautiful you looked up close, relishing the sensation of holding you tightly against him. It felt strangely satisfying to shield you from danger, to have you vulnerable in his arms. There was an inexplicable desire within him to be the only one who knew how it felt to hold you like this.
Meanwhile, you felt a conflicting array of emotions swirling within you as you found yourself in his embrace. Despite your best efforts to maintain your dislike for him, you couldn't deny the unexpected sense of safety and comfort you felt in his arms. It unsettled you, this lack of disgust, and you hated how nice it felt, how it threatened to unravel the walls you had carefully constructed around your heart.
Realising your proximity, you blinked rapidly and pushed yourself away. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Thank you..." For once, you meant it.
Days passed, and you found yourself in a state of inner conflict whenever you were around him. Previously, you had to force yourself to maintain politeness and hide your disdain for him, but now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be unpleasant.
You despised this newfound feeling of guilt he stirred within you, as if he was silently reproaching you for your past behaviour. Moreover, he continued to prove himself to be just as kind as everyone claimed, further complicating your emotions.
Hate brewed within you—not for the royal secretary as a person, but for the way he was challenging your beliefs about all men being alike. He made you start to doubt the certainties you once held dear, and you resented him for it. Most of all, you detested how he was making it difficult for you to maintain your animosity towards him.
Regardless of the swirling new emotions within you, one thing remained constant: your determination to avoid him at all costs. You were sick and tired of the conflicting feelings he stirred within you, and you knew that indulging in them would only serve as a distraction from your studies.
You needed to maintain your focus and drive, especially now when your responsibilities weighed heavily on your shoulders. The last thing you needed was to be sidetracked by unnecessary emotions brought about by a man, of all things.
But of course, life seemed determined to defy your efforts. Despite your best attempts to avoid him, it felt like he was everywhere you turned. With each passing day, you found yourself encountering him more frequently, almost as if he were purposely crossing your path.
The realisation was hard to swallow: you were seeing him more often than your own mother and younger brother combined. It was infuriating to admit, but no matter how hard you tried to evade him, he seemed to find a way to appear wherever you were.
As you finished up your studies and prepared to leave the palace, a sense of relief washed over you. Today had been the first in what felt like an eternity without a sighting of Royal Secretary Choi. Hope flickered in your heart as you packed up your belongings, eager to leave the palace behind and reunite with your little brother.
But just as you approached the main entrance, the sky darkened ominously. Thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked across the sky before a torrential downpour engulfed the area. "No, no, no, not now! Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you muttered under your breath, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you.
With no umbrella to shield you from the rain, you hurried to seek refuge under the closest shelter you could find: the awning of a nearby building. The sudden change in weather dashed your hopes of a smooth departure, leaving you stranded and drenched.
The thought of Siwoo waiting for you added to your unease. You cursed your lack of preparation, knowing that he would now have to endure more time with his bullies. It was another setback in a day that had promised to be free of Choi San's presence.
Yep, I'm convinced god hates me.
While you sheltered under the awning, your gaze remained fixed on the entrance, torn between the desire to run out into the rain to your brother and the realisation that falling sick was not an option. Too many people depended on you—your mother, your brother, and all the women in need of your assistance. You couldn't afford to be unwell, not with so many responsibilities resting on your shoulders.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a figure approaching from behind until the raindrops abruptly ceased falling around you. Looking up, you were met with the sight of an umbrella being held over your head. Startled, you turned to see San standing beside you, concern etched on his features.
"Are you alright, my lady? Please allow me to escort you to your destination," he said, his voice gentle and sincere.
The royal secretary's surprise was evident when he realised it was you, causing him to stumble over his words in an attempt to explain himself. "O-oh! It's you, Scholar Moon! I swear I didn't realise it was you, I thought you were a palace staff or someone else! I mean, I wasn't trying to offer help when you didn't want it, or maybe I was..."
He paused, then continued, "But I promise, I'm not making any assumptions! I can leave if you want me to... I'll leave the umbrella with you, of course, because obviously little Siwoo is waiting for you. Sorry, I don't mean to ramble... I just— here you go." Without waiting for your response, he thrust the umbrella into your hand and hurried off into the rain, leaving you standing frozen in bewilderment, trying to comprehend the unexpected encounter.
As you stood there, still holding the umbrella he had left behind, you couldn't shake off the words he had said. They lingered in your mind, his voice echoing gently, making you question your own feelings. For the first time, you understood why women might find him charming. Despite your resolve to dislike him, you couldn't deny his physical attractiveness and his gentlemanly nature.
But as you thought about it further, a new emotion crept in—an unsettling realisation that his kindness wasn't reserved for you alone. He would be just as sincere and helpful to anyone in need. Suddenly, a twinge of jealousy stirred within you. Why did it bother you that he treated others with kindness? Why did you feel upset that you weren't the only one receiving his attention? What was wrong with you?
Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with these unfamiliar feelings. You couldn't understand why it mattered to you whether he was nice to everyone or not. But the fact that it did matter left you feeling even more bewildered. What were these emotions, and why the hell were they stirring within you now?
Lord, I must be out of my damn mind.
In the days that followed, your annoyance with San returned, but this time it was for a new reason—one you stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Despite your efforts to keep your distance and maintain your walls around him, you found it increasingly difficult to do so. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, his gentle demeanour and persistent kindness chipping away at your defences.
Meanwhile, the royal secretary remained hopeful after his recent encounters with you. He noticed the subtle changes in your behaviour—the once sarcastic smiles and curt words slowly giving way to genuine attempts to interact with him. He knew your pride was likely the barrier keeping you from fully opening up to him, but he was determined to break through it.
Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment he felt, but he found himself increasingly consumed by thoughts of you and the challenge of breaking down your barriers to earn your trust. Each day, he eagerly anticipated going to work, knowing he might catch a glimpse of your beautiful face. Lately, he noticed it revealing more than just anger and disdain—it showed hints of other emotions too. He longed to witness them all, to be the first and perhaps the only one to see them. He felt a swell of pride, both in himself and in your progress, even if you were unaware of it.
"You like her, don't you?" San's gaze snapped up to meet his mother's, his chewing momentarily halted as he raised a questioning brow. "What are you talking about, eomma?"
She grinned, gesturing towards the additional lunch box he had instructed the servants to prepare for work that day. "Oh, you mean Scholar Moon? I mean, yeah, I guess I do...? I like everyone," he responded with a cheerful beam. However, her expression shifted to one of knowingness as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not what I mean, you silly boy. You have feelings for her, don't you?"
He choked on his food in surprise at her assertion. "Huh? Wh-what makes you say that? You know about my mission to prove her prejudice wrong, that's all there is to it. I don't feel any differently about her than I do about any other lady."
With a knowing smirk, the elderly woman caused him to wince. It was the same sarcastic expression his sister always wore before delivering a harsh truth. "Oh yes, because you make a point to greet every female palace staff member every morning, ask about all their family members, never stop talking about them, and ensure to pack extra lunch for them all just like you do for Scholar Moon, isn't that right?"
As his mother's words settled in, a sudden revelation struck San like a bolt of lightning. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had been hidden from him until now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had begun—perhaps it had lurked beneath the surface from the start, waiting for the right moment to surface.
He had been so preoccupied with proving to you that he was different, so focused on challenging your prejudices, that he hadn't stopped to consider his own feelings. What had started as a mission might have morphed into something more. The concern and care he felt for you went beyond mere kindness; it was a genuine desire to protect and support you.
Reflecting on the moments when you had occupied his thoughts—the incident in the library, the near-accident with the court ladies—he realised that his feelings ran deeper than he had admitted to himself. Even as he grappled with the conflict between wanting to take care of you and respecting your independence, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. Choi San was a man with a lot of love to give, and he wasn't shy or ashamed to admit that he had developed feelings for you—feelings that transcended friendship or admiration. It was a realisation that both surprised and invigorated him, filling him with anticipation for what the future might hold.
But he wasn't stupid; he understood that acknowledging his feelings didn't equate to knowing yours or if you could ever reciprocate them. Despite this, he chose to find contentment in this understanding. He wouldn't expect anything from you in return. Your happiness would suffice to make him happy, even if it meant remaining mere acquaintances.
With this resolve, he bid his parents farewell before heading to work, his heart fluttering at the prospect of seeing you once more.
Later that afternoon, San strolled around the area where you often spent your lunch breaks. Spotting you in the secluded pavilion near the royal library, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Instead of your usual packed lunch, you were nibbling on a meagre steamed bun. Approaching you with a grin, he greeted you.
"Good afternoon, Scholar Moon. I see you're having lunch as well," he greeted, and you nodded quickly, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about your modest meal. Just as you were about to ask him what he wanted, he revealed the bag of lunchboxes he had been hiding behind his back.
"That's wonderful then. My family estate kitchen staff seemed to have made an extra set of lunch, and I was just wondering if maybe you would like to have it," he offered. You raised a sceptical eyebrow. "An extra set? That seems highly unlikely to happen."
He tried to maintain his composure despite being caught in a fib. "Fine. If you're not interested in it, I'm sure there are other palace staff who would enjoy it," he said, turning to leave. Panic surged within you as he started to walk away. "W-wait! I'll take it... please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm. With a satisfied nod, he settled down beside you.
That's what I thought.
As you opened the meticulously prepared lunchbox, a look of awe graced your features. The royal secretary chuckled at your adorable expression. He observed as you hesitated for a moment, glancing at him as if seeking approval before starting to eat. With a nod of encouragement, he joined in.
Little did you know, he had overheard some court ladies discussing the struggles faced by a female scholar, which could only be you, as you were the only one known. They recounted your struggles to afford essentials at home due to your brother's school fees and your own lack of income, all because of your dedication to your studies.
As you both began to eat, you didn't notice San biting his lip to hold back his laughter. Your eyes had widened and sparkled with innocent amazement at the flavours, a look he had never seen before. The sight made his heart flutter, confirming his feelings for you. He wanted to protect that innocence forever and be the only one to witness this endearing sight. He could easily picture spending time with you like this for life, and he knew he wouldn’t complain.
When you looked up and caught him staring, he quickly returned his gaze to his food. You blushed and checked your lips for any stray rice, wondering why he had been looking at you like that. Like a creep.
How annoying.
Relieved that there was nothing on your face, you continued eating. However, you furrowed your brows as you noticed the secretary picking at his food from the corner of your eye. Unable to contain your curiosity, you turned to see him pushing aside all the greens in his container. Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Saving the best for last?"
He chortled, "Like hell I am."
Realising what was going on, you scoffed, "Seriously? The great Royal Secretary Choi doesn't eat his vegetables? Even my brother eats his. You should be ashamed of yourself."
He sputtered, clearly embarrassed, and you snickered at how flustered he appeared over your teasing. Glaring at you, he retorted, "Is that any way to talk to the kind samaritan who just treated you to lunch?"
You shrugged. "I'll treat anyone who doesn't eat their veggies the same way, with discrimination. If you won't eat them, give them here, you big baby."
He pouted, about to hand them over until you added, "Siwoo's going to be so disappointed when he hears about this. He looks up to you and thinks of you as his role model, you know." You gasped, realising you had revealed something you hadn't meant to share, but all your regret dissolved when you saw his reaction to your words.
San's jaw dropped, and he quickly snatched the greens back, stuffing his face with them. "There, I finished them. You happy now?!"
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. In moments like this, you wondered how wonderful it would be if all men were like him. You admired how his eyes crinkled as he joined in your laughter. He could be so annoyingly cute and likeable. Gosh, you hated it. You hated how warm he was making you feel, hated how good it felt.
As the two of you calmed down from your giggles, the smiles remained on your faces. You finished the last of your food, neatly wrapped the lunchbox back up in his bag, and handed it to him. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi," you said, your voice sincere.
His heart skipped a beat at your genuine gratitude. With a nod of acknowledgement, he reached out to take the bag from you. Both your breaths hitched when your fingertips brushed against each other. The unexpected contact sent a small, electric jolt through you both, causing you to momentarily lock eyes.
San's eyes softened, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. The world seemed to pause, and for a fleeting moment, the two of you were the only ones that existed. You could feel your pulse quickening, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.
"You're welcome," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He took the bag, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.
You quickly looked down, trying to steady your racing heart. "I should get back to my studies," you said, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.
"Of course," he replied, standing up as well. "Take care, Scholar Moon."
With a final nod, you turned and walked away, feeling his gaze linger on your back. A small smile tugged at your lips as you wondered what it would be like if moments like these with him became a regular part of your life. You found your own thoughts baffling, as no man had ever made you feel such emotions before.
Could he possibly... be the only exception?
No, he could not.
You should have known better. Should have recognised the trouble he brought along despite his constant insistence on helping. Initially, you felt grateful for his frequent gestures, like bringing you lunch and accompanying you to pick up your brother from school during the rainy season, the three of you huddled under his umbrella—a sight that warmed your mother's heart.
For a while, it felt like being on Cloud 9. But in hindsight, you must have lost your mind to let him get so involved in your life. It seemed foolish to rely on him so much, to let him become so close to you and your family.
And inevitably, there were consequences.
You reached your breaking point when the bullying at your educational institution intensified. Rumours about you and the royal secretary spending time together spread like wildfire among your fellow scholars, leading to endless torment.
As you tried to leave the institution, hoping to find solace at home after enduring what felt like hours of torment, Namgil and his cronies blocked your path, their mocking laughter echoing around you like a cacophony of cruelty.
"Leaving so soon, Miss Smarty Pants? Off to see your beloved Royal Secretary Choi, I presume?" he jeered, his voice dripping with malice. "Who would've thought your success was all thanks to him? Must have made quite the deal to get him to treat you so well. Bet you're not so innocent anymore, huh?"
His words cut through you like knives, causing your steps to falter as you froze in place, the implications of his cruel insinuations hitting you like a ton of bricks. "Should've known," Namgil continued, his tone laced with venom. "All you women are good for is spreading your legs."
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, a burning rage rising up within you as you struggled to hold back tears. They had no idea what you had been through, the sacrifices you had made to get to where you were. But at that moment, all you could do was stand there, feeling utterly defenceless against their relentless cruelty.
Meanwhile, San couldn't shake off his growing concern for you. He hadn't caught sight of you all day, and his inquiries around the palace yielded no sightings of you either. The court ladies confirmed that you hadn't visited the palace at all, which only deepened his worry. You had never missed a day before, and the thought of you being sick or in trouble made his heart sink.
Leaving work that day, the extra lunch he had prepared for you still in his hands, he hurried over to your brother's school in hopes of finding you there. However, his heart sank further when he only found Siwoo waiting by the entrance as usual. The child's face lit up when he spotted the royal secretary.
"Hyung-nim! Did my noona send you here to pick me up today?" Siwoo asked eagerly. The royal secretary shook his head, his concern evident in his expression.
"No, Siwoo-yah. She hasn't been to the palace either. Do you know where her institution is?" San inquired. Your brother's expression turned worried, but he nodded.
"Yes, I do! Let's go find her!" Siwoo suggested, but San gently shook his head.
"No can do, you tell me where and I'll go. Your mother will worry if neither of you are home," San explained. The child reluctantly agreed, but not without making a request.
"Okay, but promise me you'll bring her back," Siwoo pleaded. The secretary gave him a reassuring smile and pinky promised him.
"Don't worry, I will."
As San approached your institution, relief washed over him when he spotted your familiar figure not too far from the main entrance. However, his relief quickly turned to concern when he noticed you weren't alone. Surrounding you were a group of male scholars, their expressions and body language indicating that the conversation was far from pleasant. His heart twisted uncomfortably at the sight of your wet eyes and defeated look. Were you being bullied?
With clenched fists, he stepped closer, his brows narrowing in anger as he overheard snippets of the conversation. It was clear that the group was making disparaging remarks about you. His blood boiled when he heard the leader of the gang suggesting that you had been selling your body in exchange for your success. How dare they?
These bastards.
While San understood that your previous encounters with men must have been unpleasant for you to harbour such a strong dislike for them, witnessing you being treated in such a manner was a first for him. It was no wonder you hated them so much; who could blame you? But he was here now, and he was determined to change that.
He stalked over, his towering and intimidating presence startling the scholars. "Are my ears deceiving me, or did I truly just hear such vile words coming from a scholar?" he demanded, his voice icy and authoritative. "Watch your words because rest assured, your headmaster will hear about this. Not only were you being misogynistic, but how dare you insinuate such despicable things about Scholar Moon? This woman has more integrity than all of you combined. She doesn't need any man's backing—not even mine—to get where she is today. She is fully capable of achieving that on her own, and I think you know that, given how your insecurity and jealousy are blatantly showing through your nasty actions."
The scholars' faces turned pale, their bravado evaporating in the face of the royal secretary's fury. He stepped closer, his fists clenched, ready to defend you from any further insults. The leader of the gang opened his mouth to retort but quickly thought better of it, swallowing his words and casting a nervous glance at his friends.
"L-let's go, guys," Namgil stuttered, bowing before scrambling away. They weren't stupid. This was His Majesty's royal secretary, and if he reported them to the king, they would face dire consequences. There was nothing to gain from angering him.
San turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone he had just used.
Instead of a grateful nod like he had expected, you met him with a darkened expression. Taking deep breaths, you tried to hold back your tears and calm yourself down. When you remained silent, glaring at him, he sighed. "Was that too much? I—I'm sorry, I know you can defend yourself, but I just—"
You cut him off, speaking in a low voice, "This is all your fault, Choi San."
He froze, his heart clenching painfully at the last words he expected to hear from you. You continued, harshly wiping away stray tears with your sleeves, "If only you'd just leave me alone like I asked from the beginning… I've been bullied all my life, but the usual nonsense I could endure. Not once—never—had anyone ever implied something like that," you whispered the last part. "And it's all because of you. Haven't you done enough? If you truly want to help me, then please—god—please, just leave me alone."
With that, you walked out of the institution, leaving him reeling in shock and hurt at your words. This was not how he had imagined things would turn out.
San finally realised that maybe his sister had been right. If distancing himself would make you happier, he’d do it, even if it meant suffering from being away from you. From that day onwards, he would make sure to keep his distance, honouring your wish.
You went to your younger brother’s school that evening and were surprised to hear that he had already been picked up. Panicking, you rushed home and were relieved to see Siwoo safely at the entrance, waiting with your worried mother. He clung tightly to you as you stroked his hair.
"Who brought you home?" you asked softly.
He sniffled, "Sannie hyung-nim… he promised he’d bring you home, but he lied. You came home alone."
You sighed, holding the child closer as guilt slowly crept into your heart. "He didn’t lie, Siwoo-yah. He did come to me, but I was the one who left him."
Your mother watched you with concern, her eyes reflecting relief and confusion. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "What happened, dear?"
You hesitated, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "I— I just... he won't bother us again, mother. I made sure of that."
Siwoo looked up at you, his eyes wide with innocence and confusion. "But why, noona? He was so nice to us."
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you hugged your brother tighter. "It will protect us. It will make things easier."
You were aware that you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. But you would rather die than admit it. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon, and you didn't need a man to survive. You never did, and you never would. Choi San was merely a hindrance, but he was now in the past. Things would finally return to normal. You would excel in your exams and fulfil your dreams. Everything would be fine.
Or would it really?
Days following that proved much harder than anticipated. The royal secretary had indeed left you alone, as you'd requested. While you should have been glad, a part of you felt irritated by his obedience. You resented that he hadn't fought harder, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself. You felt difficult to deal with. Surely, a man as good as Choi San deserved someone better than you. He had gone above and beyond to help you for the past few months, yet all you gave him in return were harsh words you... likely didn't mean at all.
Wait, what even are these thoughts? None of that should matter; it's all in the past. You needed to focus on your studies.
With a massage of your temples, you attempted to reread the same sentence you had been struggling with for the past hour. However, endless thoughts of that stupid man kept resurfacing, haunting you and weighing heavy on your heart with an unpleasant feeling you wished would disappear. God, did you hate him. Why was he so annoying even when he wasn't around?
You hated how he consumed your thoughts.
Everywhere you turned in the palace, he lingered in your mind. Each time you picked up your brother, he intruded into your thoughts, and even passing by your educational institution's entrance reminded you of him. What was wrong with you? What had he done to you? You were fine before meeting him, and you would be fine now. You kept repeating this to yourself, but all resolve crumbled when you saw him approaching one morning in the palace. It was the first time seeing him since that day—the day you'd uttered those cruel words to him.
You froze, clutching your books tightly to your chest, bracing yourself for whatever words or actions he might deliver. However, your heart sank when he simply passed by with a respectful nod. Why did that sting so much? You had brought this upon yourself. The urge to chase after him was overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut to suppress the longing.
Pull yourself together, this is for the best.
You didn't need him.
Or did you?
Why does it hurt so much?
The atmosphere between you and the royal secretary had shifted, turning awkward and strained. Everyone in the palace could sense the change, the tension that now defined your interactions—or rather, the lack thereof. The once easy camaraderie had vanished, replaced by uncomfortable silences and fleeting, cautious glances. It wasn't long before word reached Namgil, who seized the opportunity to make your life even more miserable. The bullying intensified, but you endured it all, determined to pass your final exam without incident.
Time flew by, even as you suffered.
You buried yourself in your studies, hoping to push him out of your mind. Every page you turned, every line you read, was an attempt to forget the way he made you feel. The palace corridors, once filled with the warmth of his ever-comforting presence, now echoed with your lonely footsteps and the quiet rustle of your books.
Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, your final examination was approaching. The weight of the upcoming test pressed down on you, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain in your heart. You could still see him in the palace, still catch glimpses of his familiar figure in the distance, but the gap between you felt insurmountable.
On the eve of your exam, you found yourself in the palace library, surrounded by stacks of books and scrolls. The dim light of the lantern cast long shadows across the room, mirroring the shadows in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.
Then, without warning, the door creaked open, and there he was. San, standing in the doorway, looking just as conflicted as you felt. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
"Scholar Moon," he finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "I heard your final exam is tomorrow. I wanted to wish you luck."
You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi."
He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I just want you to know that I believe in you. You are more than capable of achieving your dreams."
Tears threatened to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I appreciate that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, it seemed like he might say more, but then he simply nodded and turned to leave. As the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of regret. You had to fight everything in you to resist running after him, holding onto him, telling him how much you regretted everything, how wrong you had been, how much you… missed him.
No, stop it.
You took a deep breath and returned to your books, knowing that tomorrow's exam was the key to your future. You had to stay focused. You had to succeed, even if it meant pushing aside the feelings you couldn't quite shake.
The next morning, your mother smoothed your robes as you prepared to leave for the palace where the final examination would take place. Her hands were gentle, but the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.
"This is it," she whispered, a soft smile on her face. "All your hard work will pay off today. You will finally be someone in this land. The first female scholar-official in Joseon."
You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Today was the day you had worked so tirelessly for. Today, you would prove yourself.
"You look beautiful, noona!" Siwoo cheered, his excitement contagious.
You smiled down at your little brother, ruffling his hair. "Thank you, Siwoo-yah. I'll make you proud."
As you stepped outside, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the palace grounds, you felt a surge of determination. You wouldn't have time to think about a certain annoying man who had been invading your thoughts more than you cared to admit. You wouldn't let the memory of Choi San torment you more than Namgil and his friends ever could.
With each step towards the examination hall, you reminded yourself of your goals. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon. You were about to make history.
As you entered the courtyard, the confident bounce in your step reflected the culmination of years of hard work and determination. You were oblivious to the devious grins Namgil and a few other scholars exchanged as their gazes followed your figure.
"There she is," Namgil sneered, nodding toward the bridge above the large pond that everyone would later cross to reach the examination hall. A wicked idea formed in his mind. "Remind me, boys. It would be impossible for someone with drenched clothes to participate in the final examination, is that correct?"
They snickered, immediately understanding his implication. "Yes, I think that is right."
You moved through the crowd, nodding to a few familiar faces, your mind already focused on the examination ahead. You had no idea that behind you, Namgil and his cronies were plotting to ruin everything you had worked all your life for.
As the time approached for the scholars to cross the bridge and enter the hall, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. This was your moment, and nothing would stand in your way.
Or so you thought.
As you stepped onto the bridge, Namgil and his cronies moved into position. With a quick, coordinated push, you were sent plummeting into the pond below. The cold water enveloped you, and panic set in immediately. You flailed, trying to keep your head above water, but it was futile. "H-help! Please!"
Laughter erupted from above. Namgil and his friends stood at the edge of the bridge, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.
"Oops! Looks like Scholar Moon won't be making history today," Namgil taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
"I... c-can't swim..."
Everyone froze, the courtyard falling silent as your bully's laughter ceased. The realisation hit them like a ton of bricks: the pond was much deeper than they had anticipated, and you couldn't swim. Your desperate cries for help echoed in the sudden stillness, turning their malicious prank into a potential tragedy.
Panic spread among the scholars as they realised what they had done. What began as sabotage could now be seen as attempted murder, and their futures hung in the balance. Namgil's face drained of colour as he watched you struggle, knowing full well the consequences of their actions.
Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, San happened to be dropping by to observe the examination. His heart plummeted at the sight before him. Without a second thought, he pushed through the panicked crowd of useless men and plunged into the pond, desperate to save you.
His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up from the depths. He swam with determined strokes, bringing you to the safety of the pond's edge. As he hoisted you onto solid ground, he checked for signs of life, his own breath coming in ragged gasps from the effort and fear.
You coughed and sputtered, expelling water from your lungs as you gasped for air. San's relieved expression melted into one of fierce protectiveness and anger. He turned to face the group of terrified scholars, his eyes blazing with fury.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"
Namgil and his friends could only stammer incoherent excuses, their earlier bravado replaced by sheer terror. The royal secretary's intervention had saved you, but it had also sealed their fate.
A few examiners rushed out just in time to witness the chaos, their expressions darkening at the sight of the guilty, terrified faces of Namgil and his cronies. Realising the gravity of their actions, the bullies pleaded for mercy as they were escorted away to face the consequences.
The royal secretary turned toward you, gently brushing aside the damp strands of hair that clung to your face, his touch tender. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his concern evident in his expression.
Your lips quivered at the tenderness in his voice and the worry etched on his face. He was the first and only man to care so deeply for you, and you couldn't fathom how you had repeatedly pushed him away. But now, tired of denying your feelings, you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. With a broken sob, you shook your head. "No… I'm not," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.
He hesitated for a moment, startled by your sudden embrace, before returning it, enveloping you in his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me," he murmured, his voice laced with concern.
You sobbed harder, weakly hitting him. "It's you… y-you're so annoying, you know that? I hate it so much… hate that I love you."
He pulled back, wide-eyed, holding your shoulders at arm's length as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. "Wh-what did you say…? This isn't a dream, is it?"
Through your tears, you chuckled at his reaction. "I finally muster the courage to confess to you, and that's your response?"
His smile broke through, the one you adored so much, the one where his eyes disappeared into slits, bringing warmth and comfort no matter how hard things got. Pulling you back into his arms, he stroked the back of your head. "I love you too..."
"How's your first day as a Scholar-Official, Moon?" inquired the royal secretary as you grinned at him. "It's going well, Royal Secretary Choi. Thank you for asking."
After he assisted you in petitioning His Majesty for another chance at your final examination, arguing that you were merely a victim of foul play, you were granted the opportunity. As anticipated, you passed with flying colours, ranking at the top of the batch. Finally, you held the prestigious title of scholar-official.
However, that wasn't the only change in your life. Choi San openly courted you, much to the king's approval, solidifying your status as a formidable power couple.
Leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead, he smiled, "I'll see you after work."
You blushed and gently pushed him away. "Not here, please. But yes, I'll see you later."
As you left the palace after your day's work, you spotted a familiar face. Smiling, you greeted her, but your steps faltered when she bowed respectfully.
"Hi there. I remember you," you said, trying to recall where you had met her before.
She grinned knowingly. "Yes, it's good to see you again, Scholar-Official Moon. I suppose you believe my words about the royal secretary now, don't you? After all, you and he are the talk of the palace."
Your cheeks flushed, recalling that she had been the court lady to disclose San's identity during your initial encounter. You nodded awkwardly, trying to recover from your embarrassment.
She chuckled softly. "Well then, don't let me keep you. Royal Secretary Choi is waiting for you by the entrance."
Your heart soared at the sight of San standing by the entrance, just as the court lady had claimed. He was waiting for you, and the realisation filled you with an indescribable warmth. This wasn't just any man; this was your man. Yours alone. The sight of him, tall, handsome, kind, and caring, reaffirmed your feelings.
Without a second thought, you ran over, calling out, "Sannie!" He turned towards you, his face lighting up with that beam that never failed to make your heart race. His arms opened wide, and you leapt into them, feeling a rush of joy at being in his embrace.
"I missed you, honey," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.
You pressed your lips against his, relishing the moment as his response came swiftly, his kiss soft and reassuring. Pulling back slightly, a smile played on your lips, your heart dancing with joy. "I missed you too, my big baby," you teased.
"Come on, remember you wanted to learn more about my past?" you said, chuckling at the pout on his face as you pulled away.
He nodded eagerly, and you took his hand, leading him towards a place you hadn't visited in a long time.
"So, this was the root of your hatred for men…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on your father's grave as you stood beside him. You had just finished recounting everything that had transpired, from the beginning of your existence to the hardships you endured to reach where you are today.
"Yes, but you showed me that not all men are the same," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude.
He gently squeezed your hands, turning to face you with a serious expression. "And I won't stop showing you. I promise I'll be different from your father and every other man you've encountered. I'll protect you and your family as if they were my own. I'll strive to be the best husband to you and father to our future child. You'll never have to suffer alone again. I'm here for you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
You chuckled softly through your tears, nodding in response. "That's amusing… I don't recall agreeing to be your wife just yet. What are you talking about, Choi San?"
He let out a playful whine, "Hey! You—wait... you said 'yet' though, so that means... you will eventually, right?" he asked hopefully.
Teasingly, you stuck your tongue out at him before turning and running away. But deep down, you knew that no matter how far you went, he would always be there to catch you.
Of course, you idiot.
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Holy crap, I was gone for like 2 weeks and I return to 1.85k+ followers?! ASDFGHJKL thank you all so much😭
Anyway, I hope this was decent, y'all... I swear, I didn't plan for this part to be so freaking long HAHA but I just felt like it would take quite a bit for her hatred to turn into love hehe I hope the ending didn't feel rushed or anything :3
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! ❤️
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kasha-formerlydrabbletastic · 7 months ago
Text
Single Blind Study
Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington
Word Count: 3k
Based on this prompt, originally by @stillgoingsteddie
Summary: After Steve and Eddie have discussed their fun times with the reader between themselves, they want to know who's the better lay.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Blindfolds. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V. Multiple partners.
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.
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"What is happening exactly?" you ask, your pulse picking up as Eddie's nimble fingers tie his bandana over your eyes. "You guys weren't really all that specific when you said you wanted to hang out."
"I suppose you could call it a trust experiment," answers Steve, sitting next to you as he pats your thigh.
Eddie snorts. "Experiment is a good word for it."
"But," Steve insists, "a good chunk of this is about trust, sweets. Eddie and I have been thinking, and talking."
You chuckle. "That's never a good thing."
Eddie gives your head a gentle shove when he finishes tying the bandana, muttering an amused "smartass" under his breath.
His weight shifts on the couch as he settles in, at the same time Steve is moving forward, seemingly kneeling before you.
"Do you trust us?" he asks, his hands on either of your knees.
Your hand lands on one of his, your fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "I'll trust you more when you actually tell me what's going on. Why am I not allowed to see?"
"Okay, here's the deal," Eddie says, scooting closer to your side; you feel his warmth through his jeans, his thigh pressed against yours as Steve's hands move from your knees up to your hips. Your body tingles in response to their touches, waiting in earnest for their explanation. "Though, full disclosure, we were kinda high when we started talking about this."
You snort. "When aren't you kinda high, Eds?"
"Get to the point," Steve says impatiently, thwacking Eddie on the knee. He offers a gentle apology to you as he caught your knee with the reproach, too.
"So, we were having a conversation the other day about how you and I have done the horizontal tango before and how you and Steve have also..."
"Fucked each other's brains out," Steve finishes, his fingertips gripping into your hips for a moment.
"Oh?" is all you say.
It's no secret between the three of you that you've opened yourself up physically for them both. It all started on a boring summer day last year while you and Eddie were waiting for Steve to get home from work. The two of you started talking about past experiences, and one thing led to another. Shortly after, Steve was lamenting another failed dating attempt, and you found yourself on his lap in his car after you dropped the kids off at the arcade. Since then, whenever the fancy struck you, or Eddie, or Steve, it was a given that you'd roll around in the sack together.
The images of either one naked and writhing under you, above you, behind you, moaning your name, hands all over your body stream through your mind, tingling through your bloodstream and straight to your core.
"We started comparing notes," Eddie continues, his tone getting softer as he moves closer to you; you feel his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.
"What notes are we talking about here?" you ask.
"Things you like, things you don't like," Steve begins. "What you sound like, what you look like."
"And weirdly enough, there's a few discrepancies we noticed," Eddie says.
"Yeah, like we both know you like to fuck in public," Steve says, "but for whatever reason you and I only fuck in the car in public, but with Eddie..."
"Dressing room at JC Penney's, movie theater, in the middle of a show at the Hideout, I could go on..."
You can hear Eddie's grin as your body heats up, remembering especially the night at the Hideout where he took you up against the wall with a full crowd around you.
"Steve, do you wanna fuck in more places?" you giggle, pressing your thighs together for just a little bit of friction.
"No," he says before he grumbles. "I mean yes, but that's not the point of this conversation."
"The point is, Steve and I compared notes about you," Eddie says, "but we don't know how we compare. I would say that some of our experiences match up, but there's not enough information to tell which of us fucks you better."
"Ooohhh," you reply. "So, you want me to just tell you about it? I can do that. Don't see what the point of the blindfold is."
"Nah, sweetheart," Eddie says. "This is more of a live comparison."
It takes a second, but as soon as the idea clicks, your body floods with arousal. Your tongue slips over your lips as you imagine what's to come, and you feel your cunt squeeze in anticipation.
"Right," you say after a steadying breath, "but why the blindfold?"
You can practically hear their smiles as they each take one of your hands into theirs.
"It's a proper single blind study," Steve said. "We're taking away some factors that might influence your decision making."
“We’re gonna watch in real time,” Eddie adds. “We’re gonna watch which one of us makes you feel better.”
Heat floods your body, the pulsing between your legs ticking up exponentially. Your heart pounds at the thought; you’ve never had both of them at the same time. Not that you’d never thought about it before, you just figured that it wasn’t necessarily something that they’d go for. But now, the opportunity of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fucking you simultaneously has arisen, and you have never been more up for anything in your life.
“One thousand percent yes,” you say, nearly stumbling over your words in your enthusiasm. “I would love to participate. Please, yes.”
“Told you she would, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles, and you hear another thump that could be Steve punching him on the shoulder.
“Alright, then,” Steve says. “Stand up, sweetheart.”
You follow the direction, getting to your feet as they hold onto your hands for support. With your other senses on alert as your vision is obscured, you finally notice that neither of them is wearing cologne, but they’re both possibly wearing the same deodorant. With their intentions bared, it makes sense; knowing their scents like you do would be a dead giveaway. Now that you think about it, both had also been cleanly shaven, no stubble on their cheeks to give either away. Even now, you're realizing Eddie wasn't even wearing his rings.
“Strip,” Eddie commands gently.
Your shirt comes off first and you drop it to the couch, the boys humming in appreciation.
“I might need some help with this bra,” you say, feigning helplessness. “Would one of you gentleman want to give me a hand?”
At once, there’s a pair of hands at your back that unhook the clasp as another pair slips the straps from your shoulders. The boys are just as needy as you are it seems, wanting to touch you in anyway they can. If only you had been there for their conversation about you, to hear their comparisons, and how you turn each of them on. With your tits on display, you feel your nipples pebble at the thought of each one being suckled by a different mouth, a different tongue swirling over the sensitive buds.
“God, these tits,” you hear Eddie groan, and you smile.
“The shorts next?” you say with the same faux helplessness.
Someone’s fingers tug at the button and zipper of your shorts before yanking them down your legs.
“Wait,” Eddie says, “didn’t I rip those panties off of you at the carnival that one time?”
“I bought her a new pair,” Steve answers. “Those are her favorite. Also… at the carnival?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies, “we fucked on the Ferris wheel. That little mini skirt she was wearing drove me insane.”
You feel Steve pull you close, getting a gentle grip on your jaw as he directs your face to his. “We are fucking in more places, you hear me? I want to fuck you on a Ferris wheel.”
“Anywhere you want, Stevie,” you giggle, rolling onto your toes to press your mouth to his, but he doesn’t let you.
“Not yet,” he directs, pressing on your shoulders to get you onto solid footing.
You feel Eddie’s fingers grip the lacy panties you wear, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out of them. You hear him inhale deeply and you know for damn sure that Eddie just sniffed those panties.
“I’m tucking these away,” you hear him say.
“Don’t ruin those, too,” Steve replies quickly.
“Before you sit back down though,” Eddie says, changing the subject; you can hear his belt unbuckle, sliding through the loops on his jeans as he tugs it free. “We gotta make sure your hands are tucked away nice and safe so they don’t touch anything.”
“Why can’t I touch anything?” you counter, almost whiny in your inquiry.
“Well,” Eddie says, turning you around, looping his belt around your wrists, “it’s safe to say that there are definitive differences to the way me and Steve feel. Our hair feels different, our bodies feel different. You gotta remember this is a blind study and you’re not entirely blind if you can still use your hands.”
He guides you gently to the couch, making sure your hands are tucked carefully behind you. You get comfortable, listening to the rustle of their clothes as they strip, too.
“How are you that hard already?” you hear Steve gripe.
Eddie chuckles. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet.”
“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m probably wetter than I’ve ever been right now.”
“Don’t make it worse, babe,” Steve replies. “Can’t wait to get into that pussy.”
“You’re telling me,” Eddie agrees.
“Now, one of us is gonna start,” Steve explains. “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”
“How are you gonna figure out who goes first?” you say, but they’ve already gone into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissor, and you laugh. Best two out of three and they’re mum as to who won. You listen for any clues at all, anything that might give away the identity of who is about to please you, but it seems they’ve covered all their bases.
Neither of the boys speak, but you feel a hand on your knee as someone kneels before you, spreading your legs wide. The mystery man exhales before running a finger between your dewy lips, stopping to rub your clit gently.
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, relief at finally being touched warming your core.
Two fingers slide into you, slowly pumping to get you started. Your restrained hands clench behind your back, eager to touch the one touching you, but instead, you simply moan, widening your legs to give him better access.
He continues, not making a single sound but the one his fingers make pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you keen as he begins to curl his finger against your G-spot, pressing harder on your clitoris as you squirm beneath his touch; he quickens his speed, listening to your body as it nears climax. “I’m so close… oh, fuck me…”
Your cunt squeezes his fingers before releasing with an orgasm, your body twitching as ride out the high.
You haven’t even begun to come down from that one before he hitches your legs over his shoulders and leans in, his tongue lapping up the mess he made with his hands. While this may be a classic Eddie move, you’re confused by the fact that you don’t feel his hair on your thighs. He must have pulled it all back for the experiment, but there are other ways to tell that it’s him.
He always grips your thighs with his callused guitarist’s fingers, pulling them apart to fit his head between your legs. His tongue lingers in your hole, dancing with the nectar that drips from you. When he’s satisfied, he glides along to your clit, lapping with the whole tongue before teasing it with the tip. He winds you up and you writhe beneath him, whimpering as the grip of another orgasm threatens to take over.
“Fuck, yes!” you nearly shout as he doubles down, coaxing that climax from you; your body shudders, ecstasy coursing through every vein. Your thighs clench around his head, your feet scrabbling to pull him closer to you.
The mystery man - presumably Eddie - pulls away shortly after, though, taking with him a whimper from your lips as he leaves.
It's not long, though, until you feel a pair of hips bumping against your thighs, spreading them apart once again. The hard tip of a cock tickles your heat, gliding up and down before notching into your entrance. Slowly, he enters, spearing through you until he's fully seated and your chest heaves with a satisfied sigh. He stays there, stretching your pussy as his thumb presses against your clit.
"Move!" you demand, hardly able to take the anticipation of waiting. "Please, fuck me!"
At once, he rears back, almost exiting you before he slams back in again. A moan dances from your lips as he enters a rhythm, steadily splitting you wide open with every thrust. His thumb still plays with your clit, tightening the coil in your belly as he circles it. You moan again, your body bouncing as his hips slam your ass.
You wrap your legs around Eddie's waist - you'd know that slutty little waist anywhere, especially between your legs - and he responds; keeping his thumb on your clit, the rest of his hands splay out over your hips, gripping you as his rhythm quickens. You grin, knowing damn well he's close to finishing.
Your cunt throbs, so close to a climax that you can practically taste it. With just the right stroke, you burst, ecstasy spilling down to the very tips of your limbs and back before you're suddenly empty.
He strokes himself above you, trying so hard not to make a sound as he spurts onto your belly.
You lay back on the couch, your chest rising and falling with hurried breaths before he pulls away.
"Oh!" you say, surprised when the next body takes his place and bends over you, running his tongue along the mess on your skin.
Bold of Steve to do so, you wouldn't have expected it of him.
Before you can say anything, however, he presses his fingers into your pulsing heat, drawing a moan from you as he massages your g-spot. He meets your lonely clit with his finger tips, not circling like Eddie would, but keeping a steady back and forth rhythm. It isn't long before he pulls the orgasm from your writhing body, overstimulated but basking in every minute of too much ecstasy.
Steve doesn't stop, though, leaning forward and lapping at your clit. He's hungrier than usual, seemingly rushing through his usually thorough routine of getting you off. His free hand grips your thigh open, his fingertips pressing into your flesh.
"Fuck," you sigh, making to move your arms and forgetting they're tied by Eddie's belt.
Your hips press up the closer your climax comes, wriggling against Steve as he brings you to a swift orgasm.
"Give me your cock," you moan after a spell and, on command, you feel him slip inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just as much as Eddie did.
Steve is definitely impatient, not teasing you like Eddie had, but getting straight to the point; his hips slam against your ass like he'll never be able to fuck you again as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. You wrap your legs around him too, his body a little thicker than Eddie's.
"Yes," you gasp, growing closer to your next orgasm.
Like he's conditioned at this point, Steve's fingers find your clit again, pressing on it until you squeeze around him, moans dancing through the air from your mouth. He must think you can't hear him with all the noise you make, but he whimpers almost imperceptibly as he pulls out of you, his spend joining Eddie's on your tummy.
It's almost dream-like, the way your head swirls; you couldn't see a thing but your boys had you going like they've never done before.
"Okay, babes," you hear Eddie say, close to you. You feel his hands wrap around your head to relieve you of your blindfold. "There are those pretty eyes."
You blink against the light of the room, opening your eyes to see your boys head-to-toe naked, both with their hair pulled back. Eddie is standing close to Steve now, his cock hard once more. Steve's cock, on the other hand, is taking a well-deserved rest.
"Well, if I didn't know already, I definitely know now," you say with a giggle.
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie.
You point to Eddie's member. "If Eddie would've just finished he wouldn't be hard like he is right now."
Both their gazes aim for Eddie's dick.
"Okay," Eddie says, "but who was better?"
"What do you mean if you didn't know before?" Steve asks at the same time.
You sit up, allowing Eddie to remove his belt from your wrists. Steve picks up the discarded bandanna and cleans your tummy of the come.
"Eddie's a guitarist," you state simply. "His calluses gave him away almost instantly."
Eddie looks at his hands like they've betrayed him, then wraps one around his erection.
"Honestly," he says, "watching Harrington go at you was probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Not to mention, he licked my jizz off your stomach, babes."
"I was trying to throw her off," Steve says defensively. "I thought maybe she would think it was you licking my jizz."
"You want me to lick your jizz, Stevie?" Eddie teases, wiggling his tongue at him.
Steve seems to consider it for a moment before you pop in.
"The next person to say 'jizz' gets a beating. And not the fun kind."
"Seriously, though," Steve says, lowering to the couch next to you. "Who was better?"
The two look at you expectantly, each one eager to hear their name, but you can't let them have that satisfaction. A wicked grin pulls your lips toward your ears.
"Well," you say. "I can't decide."
"What?" they say together.
"We're just gonna have to keep studying, I guess."
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cutecatlov3r · 1 year ago
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kinktober: stuck in wall~ bachira meguru
synopsis: your roommate finds you stuck in the washer . how could be not stick his needy cock inside of you ?
warnings/tw: aged up! dubcon, praise, erratic behavior, hard pervert, panty stealing, dryhumping, raw sex, piv, free use(?), orgasm(m), porn with a plot, drunk off sex, cervix fucking, and mental issues (?)
character ai bot that I made in honor of this: didn't make one for this ;(
not proofread . check out my other ones too lolz !
i'm reposting it becuase it got taken down aw ! :(
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"bachi! where are my panties, can't find them in the washer!" you yell from the laundry room. you've been losing panties everyday, you don't even think you've done a load of your panties or bras since about last week.
"eh? why would I know?" he yelled back from the living room. of course he took them, he didn't care, no shame in it either. he takes them when you put your clothes in the laundry basket, taking some time to sniff your cute panties, wanting to smell your cunt. occasionally licking the inside to see if there's a taste. the way he licks your panties gently, his hand stroking his cock... makes him hard just thinking of it.
you just groaned in defeat. you had no idea he did that, you never suspected him as the culprit either.
"try in the way back of the washer! it could be stuck deep inside!" he suggested, sounding innocent. he was scrolling through his phone in the living room, bored.
you shrug to yourself, reaching into the washer.
why the hell was the washer so damn deep? you roll your eyes, making a mental note to buy a new washer. reaching down further, you do see a pair of your panties. one that you haven't seen in awhile. you reach into the wash deeper, having to squeeze in your hips while reaching your arm out. once your hips were in you grabbed the underwear.
you sighed of relief, looking at it, it was one of yours. but they did feel weird, some sort of damp-like crust on it. you shrugged to yourself, not caring because you would wash it either way. there probably isn't a good explanation for it.
little did you know that bachira pumped himself, cumming on your sweet panties earlier. it wasn't his fault, he was just so turned on over the fact you cooked him breakfast when you woke up.
you huffed slightly, ready to get out...
what the...?
your hips were stuck, they weren't squeezing through the small opening at all. you tried your hardest, trying to push out your hips but to no avail. your hips were too big to get out.
"goddamnit..." you mutter to yourself, still trying to force yourself out of the washer.
bachira heard your little huffs and grunts, trying to escape the washer. your hips just weren't budging, you definitely want to buy a new one soon, this one sucked, obviously. you sighed to yourself, heart racing with a small bit of anxiety. how would you get unstuck...?
curiously, bachira walked over to the laundry room, wondering why you'd be making the noises. maybe you were fucking yourself, that's honestly the true reason why he came to check up on you, wanting a glimpse of what you could be doing.
"yo y/n! you ok-?" bachira paused, eyes widening slightly. this was way better than what he expected. "oh! hehe! are you stuck?" he chuckled. the way your ass peeked from your short little shorts made him smirk.
"uh no... of course not..." you mumble.
he giggled. "alright, then i'm gonna head to be-"
"wait!...I actually need help, I'm stuck," you sighed in defeat, shaking your head in the washer.
he hummed slightly, walking over to you, looking at how you couldn't budge your hips. the little voice in his head, what he called his monster, was telling him to fuck the shit out of you. but he took a deep breath, trying not to take advantage of you, his roommate.
"so! what's the problem?" he smiled, bending down face to face with your ass, looking at where you could be stuck.
"my hips won't come loose," you reply, truthfully. you showed him a quick example, trying to wiggle your hips out but once again, failing miserably. "could you uh... help me out?" you ask, swallowing your pride. you hated asking for help, it made you feel bad.
bachira chuckled, nodding. he stood on his knees, hands gripping the skin above your waist. he tried to pull you backwards. it didn't work. he tried again, this time, his clothed cock accidentally rubbing against your shorts. each time he tried to pull you backwards, his pelvis moved forward, cock hitting your ass.
you didn't mind, you just wanted to get out of the stupid washer.
"fuck her..." the voice in his head said. bachira watched as he was slightly thrusting against you when he was trying to pull you out. you didn't even notice that he was slowing down his movements, in thought. "y/n..." he mumbled.
"hm? what? should we call the fire department?" you ask, a bit worried.
without even a warning he pulled down your shorts.
"eh?! bachi! what the-"
"this pussy is so pretty..." he hummed, sitting back down to go face to face with your pussy. you were blushing, not knowing how to feel. you didn't even process what was happening. "aw, these panties are one of my favorites," he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it in rough little circles. you whimpered slightly, "i came right there," he smiled, reminiscing on how he stroked his cock to those same panties, cumming on the inside of them.
"bachi..." you let out a breathless moan. "cut it out...! get away from me," you whined. you didn't want this to ruin things as roommates, if he helped you out, you'd just forget about it.
"no, i don't think i want that, pretty girl," his thumb went under those panties, sliding across your slick and wet cunt. "i don't think you do either, look at you... so wet," he chuckled, admiring the way his thumb moved against your folds. "so pretty,"
to be fair, of course you were wet. your roommate is pretty hot. him also admitting that he strokes himself to your panties also turned you on, just slightly.
"bachi... stop," you moan as his thumb went over your sensitive nub in a slightly pattern.
"wanna pump you full of my cum, y/n. you'd look so beautiful having it seep out from your tight little pussy," he said, unashamed, smiling.
you were speechless, breath hitching at that statement. all of a sudden it felt as if it were getting hotter inside of the washer. maybe it was because you were nervous or maybe it was because you've always wondered what it'd be like to be fucked by your crazy energetic roommate.
he was acting real bold for some reason, it was definitely the voice in his head that kept putting this idea of fucking you there while you were stuck. "awww! i'm already so hard too," he whined, taking out his cock. his dick was pulsing, no precum yet but just about ready to get inside of you. "i'm gonna fuck ya! don't worry, i'll make it feel pretty good too!". he grabbed his cock, stroking it slightly before pressing it against your ass.
"wait!- don't-"
he moved your panties to the side, cock pressing against your entrance. he rubbed his cock against your hole, teasing it. he didn't even put the tip in yet, slapping it slightly, earning little whimpers from the jolts of pleasure you were receiving.
"don't? seriously? look at how your needy hole is just begging for me to fuck you," he grinned, taking away his cock from your entrance. without his dick being there... it felt sort of empty, unsatisfied. "but! if you don't wanna I won't force ya," he was trying to sound nice. but he knew damn well if you didn't want to he'd force you and he probably wouldn't care about whether or not you'd swallow your pride and want to fuck him too.
you sigh slightly, missing the feeling of friction already. "wait... um... actually you can. you can..." you gulp a bit, feeling your face flush with embarrassment inside of the washer. "you can fuck me,"
no hesitation needed when you said those words as he shoved himself inside of you, merciless. you almost cried due to how well he was stretching you out. tears brimmed your eyes. he put both hands on the top of the washer, thrusting his hips. he watched as your ass bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him tightly. your gummy walls squelching and squeezing down on his length.
"feels so good," he moaned, putting his shirt in between his teeth so he can see everything. he even whimpered like a puppy at the sight. he was not afraid to show his feelings, he didn't like when girls had to sit there and wonder whether their partner was feeling good too, so he loved showing.
"b-bachira!" you repeated, your breath fogging up the washer, making it slightly claustrophobic to be in there.
he rutted his hips deep inside of you, not moving fast, instead moving deep and hard. you could feel him so deeply, it almost hurt.
"you're the best... this pussy is the best," he moaned, thrusting himself more. his fat cock was being squeezed, almost feeling as if he was being milked dry. he has never had pussy this good.
"so good!" you slurred. you were being fucked so dumb that you could feel yourself going cross eyed, drool falling from your mouth. though it was early, his cock seriously was fucking you so good that your toes were curling.
bachira furrowed his brows, shutting his eyes as he slowed down even more, instead to pound you deep from the back.
that's when tears were rolling down your face. with each thrust you let out a cry, he was hitting your cervix. and fuck, all he wanted to do was fuck you so deep that he can get his tip past your cervix to fill up your womb with his warm cum. if he kept it up at this rate, he will gladly slam his dick so deep that it goes past your cervix, but for now, he loved the feeling of hitting it. he felt as if he were being blessed by a goddess.
"n-no more!" you cried, panting heavily. it was all too much, it hurt so bad yet felt so amazing. you could get used to this.
he bit on his shirt more, a sweat drop falling down his face. the way you moaned was like music to his ears. he fucked into you more and more, feeling his balls tighten, his cock twitch, his veins pulse...
"c-cumming! f...fah~ fuck! i'm-"
and that's when he shoved himself as far as he could, staying in that position, head being thrown back as he came. moans and high pitched whines escaped his mouth over and over. his cum filling your womb, shooting in ropes as he moaned.
you cried, legs shaking. the feeling of him filling you up felt so good, giving your cervix some comfort after being fucked over and over.
he panted, keeping himself inside of you until he caught his breath.
slowly, he pulled out, watching as his cum drip from your abused pussy. he grinned, enjoying his view as it dripped onto your thighs and floor.
"so hot..." he bit his lip, hand rubbing around the softness of your ass.
you were too fucked out to say anything in response.
"you cum?" he asked, sweetly as if nothing happened.
you made a small noise that told him you didn't to which he giggled, smacking your ass slightly. "don't worry! i can take care of that,"
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oceantornadoo · 7 months ago
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hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.
im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!
bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)
you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.
that explains a lot.
and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)
"evenin', duckie."
"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."
john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.
"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.
"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.
"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...
"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."
"anythin' for you, duckie."
list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner
shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.
"all ok, john?"
"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.
"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.
"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.
"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."
"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.
"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.
30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?
john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.
that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.
john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.
"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.
you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.
"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.
"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."
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ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.
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