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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years

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miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

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rocorambles · 4 years

Text

Reciprocate

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Mafia AU, Kidnapping, Rape/Non-Con, Forced Impregnation, Objectification, Degradation, Humiliation

Summary: You should have known better than to think you could ever truly escape from him, especially when you carry something he treasures so dearly inside of you.

You reminisce on the early days when you had met the beautiful dark-haired man, when you had been swept off your feet by striking blue eyes and a serene composure.

Akaashi had never been just normal to you and you remember how he had made your head spin with the air of mystery he carried around him, how your heart whipped back and forth between the always surprising mixture of sharp blunt words and eloquent poetry he entrapped you with. He was a man full of surprises, truly multi-faceted and you remember watching in awe at how quickly he could go from easily and agilely maneuvering his toned athletic body in the gym to lazily reading classic literature with a hand posessively but gently wrapped around your waist as you curled up besides him on the couch.

There are many words you could have used to describe Akaashi. But dangerous? Dangerous was not one of them.

Funny how quickly things can change.

Even as careful as Akaashi is, even he can’t foresee unexpected circumstances, especially when you are more entangled in the webs of his life than he ever meant for you to be. And he is forced to reveal who he truly is to you or kill you when you get caught up in things and with people who shouldn’t have ever even known you existed.

You wouldn’t be the first woman he’s killed and his mind flickers to numerous dead bodies, corpses of prostitutes and other unfortunate women strewn about when things became too complicated, when they threatened his position and the safety of his clan. But he can’t bring himself to pull the trigger, can’t even bring himself to think about aiming at you.

You’re not like the other fleeting distractions and for the first time ever, Akaashi Keiji breaks Fukurodani policies by revealing everything to you in the hopes that you’ll accept him as everything he is, that you’ll join him for the long run.

Blue eyes storm over when you don’t look at him with the love and acceptance he expected of you, only fear and disappointment apparent in your eyes, and his hands instinctively clench into fists when you flinch away from him, scrambling to create space between the two of you when he reaches out to reassure you that underneath the terrifying family name and insignia, he’s still just him.

Fine. You’re scared? He’ll give you something to actually be scared of.

His fingers dig deeper than necessary as they roughly drag and shove you, movements harsh and rough enough to make a very clear point, but never enough to permanently mark you. He likes his possessions as pristine as possible after all. And he smiles at how quick you are to go limp in his arms, obediently letting yourself be led when Akaashi’s silky voice patronizingly tells you what a shame it would be for your beautiful body to be decorated with bullet holes.

You know who Boktuo Koutarou is, even if you’ve never physically met him. Everyone in your city knows who he is, his name whispered and murmured in the streets, tales of his erratic temperament and ruthless wildness spread far and wide. The Fukurodani clan has always been a powerhouse in the underground world, has always controlled your city with an iron fist, and Bokuto, even by Fukurodani standards, has more than risen to the challenge of continuing his family’s undeniable reign, garnering respect and fear even among the monsters that share his insignia. So even though you’ve never met him, you know exactly who you’re shoved to your knees in front of, who Akaashi reverently speaks to and asks for permission from to keep you at the base as his pet, and you don’t dare open your mouth or raise your head, absolute terror paralyzing you.

Gold eyes peer at you in interest. Whores aren’t uncommon in the base, lewd moans and slick sounds sometimes making the base seem more like a brothel than the home of illicit dangerous business and Bokuto has always encouraged and rewarded his men with the best cunts money can buy especially after particularly successful or tiresome raids. But for as long as he’s known Akaashi, he can count the number of times the younger man has partaken in those base pleasures on just his fingers and even then, they’ve always been one night stands, brief flings. So he’s surprised, to say the least, when the dark haired man asks to keep you around as his little toy and he has a gut feeling that you’ll become a permanent extension of the family, but how can he deny the man who’s resolutely stayed by his side all these years, who’s pledged his life and loyalty to him? Akaashi asks for so little and if all he wants is for Bokuto to provide protection and surveillance for one more body to be happy, then so be it.

You’re no stranger to sharing a bed with Akaashi, but this is different. You had always thought that he had been holding back with you, swearing that you saw a hint of something darker gleaming behind blue orbs only for it to dissolve away as you were swept away by sensual languid pleasure and gentle, attentive words. And you hate that you were right, voice going hoarse as you scream at the top of your lungs as you’re ruthlessly taken over and over again, a coldness in the eyes you had once loved that pierces deep within you, animalistic possessiveness in the way he marks you, long slender fingers leaving bruises in their wake as he holds your writhing body in place as he thrusts in and out of your abused lower lips.

Day in, day out. All you know is a fitful sumber that exhaustion forces you into and Akaashi. His scent, his touch, his voice. You’re drowning in his essence. Dying. No. That would be preferable. At least there would be an end. And you silently grieve, unable to even cry real tears anymore when you wonder when this will ever end, if this will ever end.

As much as Akaashi would love to permanently lay beside you, duty and appearances do call from time to time and he reclines across from Bokuto, watching the black and white haired man boisterously chat with Kuroo Tetsurou, the current head of Nekoma as scantily clad women surround the two men, dragging fingernails down their chests and shamelessly shoving their breasts into their faces in the hopes of gaining their favor. They sure do seem to be enjoying themselves and Akaashi grimaces when one of the prostitutes begins to loudly moan as she grinds against his leader’s swelling erection which doesn’t go unnoticed by sharp eyes.

“Akaashi, don’t be so uptight. Why don’t I send some of them to your room tonight to help you loosen up?”

Bokuto knowingly smiles in amusement when he’s promptly rejected.

“Ah, that’s right. You still have your cute pet. But you know Akaashi, pets are temporary. Don’t you think it’s time to make it a little more permanent? Maybe put a ring on it? Hell, I love kids. I wouldn’t mind having a few runts running around the base, especially if they’re yours.”

Their conversation is interrupted by a rude scoff and Bokuto snarls at Kuroo’s taunting words.

“Because God knows Bokuto isn’t having kids anytime soon. No woman could stand bearing his kids and listening to his loudmouth for the rest of her life.”

Akaashi tunes out their bickering as the gears in his mind churn.

He had kept you on your birth control pills, not wanting to disturb his time with you as he broke you in and figured out exactly what his plan for you is. He knows he loves you, knows there’s no life for him without you. But he wasn’t a dreamer. He’s fully aware just how dangerous his life is, how impossible it is for the both of you to be able to grow old together, how much more likely it’ll be that both of you end up dead side by side in a turf war gone wrong. Yet now all he can think of is what you’d be like as a mother, how you’d look pregnant with his children and when your pills run low, he tears your prescription to shreds in front of your eyes.

You have more fight left in you than he thought you would and he’s enraged by how much you despise the thought of carrying his children, every desperate plea for him to not cum inside of you while you’re unprotected, a direct insult to him and his love for you. All he sees is red as he breeds you over and over again, stuffing you full of his cock and his seed, never stopping until you’re filled to the brim with the sticky proof of his adoration, stomach heavy and sloshing with his declared affection.

Turbulent emotions ransack you and you wish you could blame it solely on the hormones raging throughout your impregnated body, but you know it’s deeper than that. It had been so easy to become numb to being used, being known as nothing more than Akaashi’s pretty pet, being the victim of a cold, ruthless stranger you realize now that you never really knew. But it’s agonizing to once again see the hints of the man you had fallen in love with and your heart aches at how gentle and considerate Akaashi is to you once more as your belly begins to swell, a comforting hand rubbing your back and holding your hair away from your face as morning sickness has you heaving over the toilet bowl. And you feel something break and shatter into a million pieces inside of you when one night, as your due date quickly approaches, he kneels in front of you, slipping the engagement ring of your dreams onto your trembling hand.

“I know this isn’t how you dreamed of any of this happening, but I promise you, once the child is born, I’m going to give you the wedding you always wanted and do my best to be the husband and father you deserve and want. I love you.”

You sob, tightly returning Akaashi’s embrace, burying your face in his chest, wishing with all your heart that things could have been different, that you could go back to those early days, that everything in between was a dream, a nightmare.

But this is reality and as you cradle your baby bump, you know that you need to do something, anything, now that it’s not just your life on the line anymore.

For the first time in a long time, it seems like fortune is finally on your side as Akaashi relinquishes his leash on you, trusting that your growing bump will permanently tie you to him, that you won’t even think of trying to escape in your current state. And you play your role perfectly, smiling and leaning into his careful touches, accepting the gifts and attention he lavishes you with, looking to all the world like an excited expecting mother perfectly matched with her doting fiance.

Akaashi resumes taking up longer projects and jobs, no longer seeing a need to keep as careful of a watch over you or a need to remind you of your place besides him every night. And seeing one of their higher-ups relax makes everyone else careless, no one paying you much attention, no more armed men outside your door and windows when Akaashi is away.

Really, it’s embarrassingly easy for you to escape, so easy that you wonder if this is a trap, almost expecting Akaashi to appear from around every corner and drag you back to the prison he had created for you, and you shudder when you can almost feel his hands against your skin, his voice murmuring cruel cutting words into your ear.

But no one stops you and you slowly, but steadily make the long journey to Inarizaki territory, discreetly settling in and making a new home for yourself, starting a new life. Inarizaki and Fukurodani have never dealt much with each other, their territories so far apart that it’s pointless to clash or ally with each other when there are so many other enemies and friends closer to both their homes to deal with. You pray that it’s enough to hide you, to allow you to leave your wretched past behind.

It seems like your prayers are answered as month after month passes, as your belly grows and grows, as you give birth to a beautiful baby girl. You can barely remember a life outside of motherhood, your heart overwhelmingly full of love and happiness as you watch your daughter grow. And as you watch her take her first few wobbly steps as her first birthday passes, you let yourself finally believe that you can really move on and look forward, locking the blue-eyed demon of your past behind you once and for all.

Except that demon doesn’t want to be locked up, that demon is far too strong and cunning for your flimsy padlock, and you clutch your daughter to your chest when your door slams open one night and your apartment is swarmed by men with the Fukurodani insignia, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes when one last final figure makes their way past your threshold and you stare into familiar blue eyes.

As if your daughter can sense your anxiety, your fear, your hopelessness, she begins to loudly wail and bawl, wrapping her little arms around your neck and drenching your neck and shirt with her tears and snot, reminding you just how much is at stake right now.

You do your best to fake some semblance of calmness, drawing on your maternal instincts to still the quivering of your voice as you gently whisper soothing words in her ear, telling her everything will be fine, telling her that these are just mommy’s old friends, all the while watching your ex-lover gracefully make his way towards the two of you, subtly shielding her little body with yours as he approaches.

Realistically you know there’s not much you can do if he does mean harm to her, but you’d gladly die defending her to the best of your abilities if it came down to it, already ready to beg for her to be spared and for just you to be punished for your transgressions and your betrayal. You finch when you feel his weight settle besides you on the bed as he sits on the edge of the mattress, heart pounding as you feel his familiar presence, and you quickly turn to face him, only to be completely stunned by the softness in his eyes as he gazes at your daughter.

Relief floods through you and you hesitantly shift, allowing him easier access to see her, something bittersweet trickling inside of you as long slender fingers gently reach out to caress tear-stained cheeks, as your daughter’s sobs die down and curious eyes peer at the stranger who’s touching her. And deep inside you know Akaashi won’t harm her, will fiercely love her, as he tugs her out of your arms and pulls her into his lap, a sad smile pulling on your lips as you watch father and daughter reunite.

Deep inside you also know that you won’t be as lucky and your fears are confirmed when Akaashi stands, still cradling your giggling daughter in his arms, blue eyes pinning you down with a look you recognize all too well. There’ll be hell to pay for your actions.

You feel nauseous, body already aching and throbbing in anticipation of your punishment. But you plaster on a smile for your daughter as she happily plays with one of her favorite toys in the backseat of the car between Akaashi and you, peppering her tiny face with kisses as Akaashi and you tuck her into the gorgeous nursery he’s prepared for her, and wishing her good night as Akaashi leads you back out, continuously waving until the nursery door is firmly closed. And only then does your act drop and you sob as a hand harshly grips your wrist, tears only flooding down more as you recognize the hallway you’re being dragged down, body shaking when you’re shoved into a room and a bed you had tried so hard to forget.

Clothes are being torn from your body and you thrash around as lips descend upon you, a mouth hungrily molding with yours, yelping when teeth harshly bite on your lower lip before pulling apart. You feel so exposed, so helpless, so vulnerable as icy blue eyes glare down at you, Akaashi’s body pinning you in place as he takes in your figure, scrutinizing every line and curve of your body, mapping every familiarity and difference from the last time he’s seen you. But you lay still, wincing when his grip on your wrist becomes bone crushing when you try to instinctively cover yourself from him.

“I trusted you. I love you. And this is how you repay me? Running away from me? Keeping my daughter away from me?”

You open your mouth to stutter out some feeble excuse, but gasp when a hand wraps around your neck, warningly tightening before relaxing. The weight of his palm still against your throat keeps you silent.

“There’s no excuse for what you did. But I promised you that I’d be a good husband, so I’ll forgive you if you show me how sorry you are.”

You nervously watch as he completely lets go of you, eyes trailing after him as he settles his back against the headboard of the bed, beckoning you over to him with a single finger. And you can’t help but feel like foolish prey walking into a trap as you obey, body quivering in fear as he pulls you in and positions you so that your legs straddle his thighs, back arching and a cry slipping past your lips as he teasingly captures one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks.

“Still so sensitive.”

You hate how well he’s trained your body, how easily your body betrays you even after being separated from him for over a year, how well he knows every inch of you inside and out and shame and humiliation lance through you when a long digit easily slides into your already dripping heat.

“I think you’re more than ready, darling.”

Even past your wanton moans, the clanging metal of his belt unbuckling echoes throughout the room and you whimper as something hard presses against your entrance.

“Come on, love. It’s time for you to apologize. Do you know how much effort and time I spent searching for you?”

You yelp as the hands resting on your waist dig into your flesh before relaxing and rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“But it’s okay because you’re here now, you and our daughter are here now, and neither of you are ever leaving me again. Right?”

You vigorously nod your head as blue eyes sharply stare at you, relaxing when they soften and a small smile plays on his lips.

“Good girl. Now prove it to me.”

You almost wish Akaashi had just forced himself upon you, finding it so much more demeaning to sink down on his cock all by yourself as he impassively sits back and watches you. But you’re sure that’s the whole point of this, for you to show your submission and acceptance through your actions. After all, nothing he ever does is meaningless.

And you truly do feel broken, like nothing more than a good wife, a good pet as you wildly shake your hips, bouncing up and down on his cock in a way that makes your breasts jiggle, pussy clenching even tighter and gushing even more when he orders you to look him in the eyes all the while.

“You’re making me feel so good, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful. You were made for my cock, made for me. Tell me who you belong to.”

In hindsight you’ll be embarrassed by how quick you are to babble his name over and over again in response. But here and now? All you can think about is the warmth in your chest as he praises you, the warmth in your belly as something pleasant and overwhelming builds inside of you. And Akaashi groans at how tightly you squeeze around him as your peak nears, almost cumming from just the hazed over arousal in your lust-filled eyes, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss and swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you reach your high, body convulsing and twitching in his arms as he holds you steady, lips still locked with yours as he thrusts up a few more times before finding his own release and spilling deep inside of you.

You slump onto him, exhausted body collapsing and still twitching from the onslaught of pleasure. But as the fog from your mind begins to ebb away, you involuntarily tense at the whispered “I love you” that sounds like nails scraping against a chalkboard, hesitating too long to respond in kind. And you know you’ve made a huge mistake when blue eyes are coldly regarding you once more, shivering from both the cold and fear as he pulls back from you before shoving you onto your back and settling between your legs.

“Looks like you need a little more encouragement to reciprocate my feelings. That’s okay. We have all the time in the world for me to show you just how much I love you.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere akaashi #haikyuu smut #yandere akaashi x reader #akaashi x reader #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: pregnancy #tw: yandere #tw: impregnation

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aminiatureworld · 4 years

Text

Injury II

Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,650

Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.

This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much.

I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!

Kaeya

Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.

Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.

You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”

The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.

“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”

“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.

“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”

“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”

The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”

“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.

“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.

It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.

Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.

Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.

Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.

“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.

Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.

The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.

Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.

Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.

“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”

“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.

“Were you afraid?” You asked.

“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”

“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.

Ningguang

If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.

It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.

A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.

She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?

Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?

You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…

Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.

“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.

“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”

“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”

Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.

“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.

“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”

“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”

“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”

Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.

“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”

“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.

Xiao

By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.

Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?

When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.

What a fool he’d been.

Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.

Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.

At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.

Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.

Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.

Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.

In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.

“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.

“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”

“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”

“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.

You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.

“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”

“What?”

“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.

Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.

“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.

Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.

And that was the love he held for you.

Zhongli

If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.

One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.

But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.

He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.

The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.

You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.

How fragile humans are.

The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.

Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.

Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.

“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”

“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”

“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”

“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”

“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.

“We are because we must be.”

Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.

Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.

That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.

#my computer's about to die but this was totally worth it #also I never want to learn that much about burns again oof #tonight was wild #also I love ningguang so much aaa #kaeya #ningguang #xiao #zhongli #kaeya x reader #ningguang x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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oyasuminto · 3 years

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Y’all really have me wanting to corrupt Jordan with all these asks. 👀💦 Slowly trying to convince him that just sliding the tip of his penis in doesn’t count as full on penetration. MC doing anything to convince him there’s a loophole of sorts if you will. Would love to see his resolve crumble after experiencing just a fraction of your pussy. It feels good doesn’t it? It would feel so much better if he’d just let go and claim his reward in full.

You've been so patient with the young monk, slowly building his confidence and getting him used to affection. Poor thing would turn red from hugs when you first met him.

He’s made a lot of progress, if the way he fucks your thighs is any indication. Jordan’s clearly sexually frustrated, and you’re just helping him out like the good little temple girl you are.

God, what a joke! You know the other monks and nuns despise you for ‘tainting’ the temple’s perfect golden boy. If only they could watch him whine and moan and beg, maybe then they’d understand why you’ve taken such as interest in Jordan.

But you want more. Jordan has an unfairly pretty cock; long, girthy, and with a slight upward curve. You’ve spent countless nights imagining what it’d be like to be fucked stupid by him.

“Penetration is a sin!”

That’s what he said when you first tried seducing him. There’s a reason why they call him Jordan the Pious. Say what you will, he’s ridiculously loyal to the temple. He’s lucky he’s so cute.

You show up in his room for the third night straight, making sure to lock the door behind you. His cock is already standing at attention, aching to be squeezed by your soft thighs again.

Jordan’s taken by surprise when you suggest something different, you can feel the hesitance radiating off of him.

“B-But that’s a sin!”

“Not if it’s only on the outside. C’mon, it’ll make me feel so good.”

It feels like forever before Jordan reluctantly agrees, easing you onto your back—he feels more confident on top, more in control, and you see no reason to complain, not when you get a perfect view of his angelic face.

His hands are shaking as he spreads your thighs. It’s certainly not the first time he’s seen your pussy, but usually he’s either focused on checking your hymen or chasing his own relief.

You get to savor the way his expression goes from anxious and guilty to flustered, eyes squeezed shut and whining the moment his shaft makes contact with your folds.

He cages your body with his own, long blonde hair flowing over both of you. Jordan isn’t even inside of you, but he’s moaning like a whore while humping at your pussy.

You’re clinging onto him, crying out every time his cockhead hits or grazes your clit. It’s not proper sex, but you still feel a swell of pride in your chest, knowing that you’re responsible for dragging the temple’s purest monk further and further into sin.

Jordan’s muttering to himself, you catch babbled pleas and whines as he coats your stomach in cum.

You expect him to shuffle down your body and put that tongue of his to work—that’s another thing you love about Jordan, he’s godly at oral—but instead he stays in place, panting and pressing kisses against your neck.

It’s almost funny, Jordan’s always preached about how dangerous the sin of lust can be, but here he is, proving himself right by falling victim to that very same sin.

“I think someone liked that.”

All he can muster is a weak nod.

“A-Again?”

You smile and twirl a lock of his perfect hair. Another round? That’s unusual for him, but he’s such a good boy you and could never turn him down!

Besides, you want him to feel what it’s like to have a girl cum on his cock.

His hips’ movements are a little clumsy and shaky from orgasm, but that’s certainly not an issue. Jordan looks adorable all fucked-out and desperate, it’s a side of him that no-one but you get to see.

Then his cock catches on your entrance, and half of his length slides inside your pussy. The sudden stretch leaves you gasping and twitching, you almost miss the sensation of warm, thick cum flooding your insides.

Jordan’s whimpering, slurred apologies and prayers spilling from his lips, but he doesn’t pull out.

You shush him, wrapping your legs around his slender hips.

He works so hard for the temple, practically dedicated his whole life to it. Doesn’t he deserve a reward every now and then? Like...getting to fuck his girlfriend’s pussy? He’s already inside of you, not like he can break his vow even more than he already has.

Plenty of the other monks and nuns aren’t virgins, they’re still pure aren’t they? Jordan wants to be promised to you, right? This would be the perfect opportunity!

Besides, you highly doubt the temple would punish their golden boy with the same severity they dole out on lowly initiates.

Slowly, Jordan eases the rest of his cock into your tight heat, shuddering at the lewd sounds of his cum and your slick mixing together.

You’ll face hell tomorrow, but it’s worth it to experience a night of heaven.

#Degrees of Lewdity #Fem Reader #Jordan the Pious #NSFT #Headcanons

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sugawara5 · 3 years

Text

random things that could happen with the bsd characters on a walk

this is literally 70% crack please don't take this too seriously also a bit of suggestive content and cussing

Atsushi Nakajima: You'll probably be approached by every single cat in the neighborhood and Atsushi will stop to pet them. It's cute until they're all scratching your legs and laying dead rats at your feet. Dazai Osamu: At least two women will come up to you both, slap him out of nowhere and tell him that they're gonna cut his dick off if they ever see him again. If you're attentive, you'll see Akutagawa at every street corner stalking you guys. Akutagawa Ryuunosuke: If you're lucky enough to walk with him, it'll probably be at night. He'll want to grab your hand but forgets he coughed blood on it earlier so you feel a slick, cold thing touch your palm and instinctively slap it away. You realize it was his hand and there's an awkward silence for the rest of the walk. He cries about it later. Chuuya Nakahara: Will try to impress you so hard, especially using his ability. 100% will beat up any guy that would try and approach you. Accidentally punches someone you know that was coming up to you to say hi. The rest of your "walk" is spent in the hospital where your friend is bedridden with 4 broken bones and a bloody nose. Kunikida Doppo: There's a strict schedule. You'll have 11 minutes and 46 seconds to complete your walk, or on weekends 30 minutes and 56 seconds. While walking, you'll try to talk to him about something but it always just ends with him complaining about Dazai's dumbassery. Ranpo Edogawa: Prepare a route for your walk before hand and make sure not to pass any sweet shops unless you want your wallet emptied. He'll hold your hand like a kid and skip along the path- but will leave you without a second thought if he sees a stray cat cause he wants to give it to Fukuzawa. Yosano Akiko: Literally the best person to go on a walk with. She'll pick up a flower and put it in your hair cause she thinks it'll look pretty on you. Don't get hurt though. Not even a grazed knee cause the moment she sees it, she'll bring her chainsaw out. Fukuzawa Yukichi: Will fucking dip your ass if he sees a barking dog. Have fun trying to keep up with the DILF. Peepaw can run faster then you might think. (blame tik tok for that nickname btw) Gin Akutagawa: She doesn't talk much but will quietly whisper things to you if you're close to her. Ignores Tachihara like a fucking plague and if you run into her brother you're going to get stabbed-unless you happen to be Dazai Osamu. Which of course, you'll never be. Michizō Tachihara: He's gonna try and get into your pants at a park bench at one in the morning. Some drunk girl stumbles by and asks if she can join you guys. You leave after Tachihara says yes. Ichiyō Higuchi: Bisexual queen and anyone can tell. She simps for the Akutagawa Siblings while you guys walk but you can't blame her cause you're doing the same thing. Links your arms together. Kouyou Ozaki: Spends the whole time talking about Kyouka and how cute she is, probably starts tearing up about it cause she wants her back home. You once said she was acting like Killua's mother from Hunter X Hunter. She almost decapitated you. Ogai Mori: Elise tags along always and people comment on how you guys look like a cute family. Mori doesn't appreciate you replying with, "I rather die than marry an alternate universe Dino." Elise thinks you're fucking funny as hell. Fyodor Dostoevsky: God complex motherfucker will death stare anyone who just as much as jaywalks and call them a "sinner". Rats follow him around and he has a throne in the sewers with "Rat King" spelled out above it in red spray paint. Unfortunately for you- it actually looks aesthetic so he takes you there for your walk. Nikolai Gogol: You'll probably end up dead but it'll be the best fucking walk you ever take. Starts talking about how everyone's a bird in a cage and probably farts every few minutes cause he ate beans for lunch. Randomly moans cause he thinks its funny. Sigma: Takes you to somewhere cute like a library and would try to kiss you at the end of the walk. But he gets nervous, trips, and falls on his face. Gogol's

recording it all behind a bush to send to Fyodor later. Edgar Allen Poe: Karl's usually in his coat so whenever you go near him he smells like a whole ass zoo cause Karl's a fucking player and as railed various she-racoons from all over Yokohama. Your walks look like a fucking pandemic with social distancing and shit. Mark Twain: Just like Tachihara, if he likes you he's gonna try and rail you somewhere. Gets cockblocked by Hawthorne who throws a whole ass cross as his head and knocks him out. He later proposes to you cause the only way Hawthorne will let you fuck is when you get married. Jouno Saigiku: He's not going to open his eyes. No matter what. You don't know if he's sleep walking or actually awake and listening to you. But it's YOU who trips and falls- into his arms. It's romantic till he drops you on purpose cause he needed to scratch an itch.

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mingishoe · 4 years

Text

Jerk | Ateez OT8

Summary: After a long couple of weeks that consisted of nothing but photoshoots and filming, San came up with an idea to help the members loosen up a bit.

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Azeez/OT8,,, Yunho is still a major sub and subby Wooyoung and Jongho

Word Count: 3.1k

Smut Warning: Jerk circle, high-key a little more than a jerk circle, yeah… definitely way past a jerk circle, obviously MXM, MXM touching, masturbating, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, orgy? Idk they’re not really fucking??? Dick sucking, mouth fucking, kinda ass eating? and Yunho and Wooyoung are pretty cum sluts

@jonghoshoe @cloudyyeonnie @barnesbabee and I forgot the other person who told me to @ them but 😳

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

All the members had been super stressed and tired after a long week of photoshoots and filming, so San had offered to set up a movie night for the members. Unfortunately, Yeosang, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Mingi had made a dinner reservation which left the rest of the members with San.

Regardless, San was happy to pick a nice movie and some snacks to eat. San thought it would be funny to pick a raunchy movie and watch it together. Maybe make one of them a little bit flustered… Flustered was the word he wanted. Horny MiGhT nOt have been the word he was exactly looking for but he’d take what he got.

The four of them were lying across the floor, San lying on Seonghwa’s lap, and Wooyoung and Yunho were underneath a blanket. They were mindlessly eating popcorn while they were half-watching the movie that San had picked out until suddenly everyone’s head snapped up as the room filled with moans.

Originally everyone had thought it had been one of them but then they heard loud female moaning and it obviously couldn’t be them. Their eyes were glued to the TV screen like the horny boys they are, “San?! What kind of movie is this?!?” Seonghwa shifted underneath San.

San laughed and turned to face Seonghwa while still on his lap, “Dunno, I just picked something random.”

Their attention is back on the screen, minus San who keeps his eyes trained on Seonghwa’s face and the subtlest amount of pressure on his crotch.

The camera panned down to show two people in the middle of some pretty intense sex. There was a gasp from one of the boys as it suddenly showed boobs bouncing, “Are you sure this isn’t porn?!” Seonghwa pushed San off of his lap as he adjusted his pants.

“What do you mean Hyung? Is it getting you a little bit… excited?” San’s eyes flicked from his eyes to the obvious boner in his sweats.

Wooyoung snorts and starts to laugh loudly and Yunho elbows him, “Wooyoung don’t act- you have one too.”

There’s a pause. A long pause as the four of them is staring at each other. San has a mischievous glint in his eyes and he exchanges glances with Wooyoung and Seonghwa. Yunho takes the hint and his cheeks immediately get red, “San- Don’t even think about it-”

“Aw come on! Why not? It’ll be fun!” San raised his eyebrows suggestively at Yunho.

Yunho knew he was right… he honestly wanted to but he just needed to make sure San was being serious and not just joking like how he normally is.

“Right Hwa? It’ll be fun, huh?” As San spoke, he kinda pulled on the waistband of his sweats revealing his V line.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa spoke up at the same time, “It’ll be fun.”

Their attention turned to Yunho whose face was still bright red. His fingers were fiddling with his sweats before San spoke back up, “It’s okay Pup. Need some help?”

San takes Yunho’s hand and leads him until he’s in front of the three boys. They each have their hands somewhere on Yunho: San was busy taking his shirt off, Seonghwa was pulling his sweats off, and Wooyoung let his hands trail down Yunho’s stomach down to his leaking red cock.

Yunho was already shaking from the several pairs of hands on him, until suddenly everyone took their hands off of him, “Lay down babe.” Wooyoung’s hands slowly push Yunho down on his back.

The remaining boys circle Yunho as he looks up at them with wide eyes as they all rush to undress.

San moves to straddle Yunho’s lap and takes both his cock and Yunho’s in his hands. He has both hands wrapped around both cocks and he slowly starts to thrust his cock in his hand and against Yunho’s.

Yunho’s hands immediately reach up to grip San’s wrists, “Ah- Wait! Fuck-”

“It’s alright Pup. You can cum as many times as you want. And you’re gonna be our pretty little cum dump.” Yunho’s blush spread to his neck and chest from being called a cum dump but he’d gladly take everything his members gave him. He wants to be their stress reliever.

Yunho nods and lets himself relax as San continues his soft thrusting. Seonghwa takes Yunho’s hand off of San and replaces it with his cock, Wooyoung doing the same.

Yunho feels an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and satisfaction as everyone is using him for their own pleasure. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lip in between his teeth as his eyes switch between the three different cocks, “Moan for us, pretty boy. Let us hear those pretty noises of yours.”

Yunho’s eyes are trained on Seonghwa and his cock until San begins to jerk him just right. Loud whines and groans flow from Yunho’s mouth as he tries to angle his hips away from San’s touch as Yunho’s cock throbs at San’s touch, “S-San! Sansansan! His grip on Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s cocks tighten as he’s on the verge of cumming.

“Go ahead. Make a mess.” The room is filled with moans from the four boys as they’re all pathetically close to cumming after such a short period of time.

Neither of the boys can remember the last time they touched themselves, or each other, with how busy they’ve been and it was all crashing down on them at once.

The first to cum was Yunho. Yunho was always so sensitive and everyone knew exactly how to touch him, so he hardly ever lasted more than 4 or 5 minutes without being edged but Yunho’s lucky he loves being overstimulated because it happens pretty much every time.

Yunho’s hips were grinding into San’s hand alongside his cock as his cum squirts all over his stomach and chest.

Yunho’s soft begs of their names and the movements of his slick, cum covered hands made Wooyoung and Seonghwa cum almost simultaneously all over Yunho.

The two boys sat back for a minute to catch their breath and watched as San continued to rut against Yunho’s cock, “Please Sannie! G-Give it to me! Give me your c- Hnng-” Yunho’s cock started throbbing harshly as he was on the verge of cumming twice in a row, “Cum. C-Cum on me. Please! H-Hurry before I-I cum again!”

San laughed softly as he glanced to Wooyoung who already looked worn out, “It’s alright Pup. We’ll all give you so much more.”

San’s cock made lewd squelching noises as his cum was mixing with Yunho’s. It wasn’t until San looked down at Yunho’s cock and stomach was he about to cum.

San was typically the one who had the most stamina out of the boys, but everyone knew that he had a weak spot for Yunho.

San’s eyes were glued to Yunho’s cock that was still fully hard and red from the overstimulation. His eyes trailed up slightly and loud moans spilled from his lips as he was looking at Yunho’s cum stained abs contract from his incoming orgasm, “G-Gonna give it to you P-Pup.”

With a shaky voice, San let out a couple of drawn-out whines as he gripped onto his cock tightly as he watched Yunho’s facial expressions closely until he came on Yunho.

The cum of the four boys was mixed on Yunho and they all looked down at him with flushed cheeks and heavy breaths.

San removed himself from Yunho’s lap and grabbed onto Wooyoung’s hand to pull him onto Yunho, “Go on Woo.”

Wooyoung lets out a whine as he bends down to take Yunho’s cock in his mouth. Wooyoung eagerly sucks on Yunho’s cock that’s most definitely too big for him, and groans as he tastes Yunho’s and San’s mixed cum.

Yunho whines loudly as Wooyoung sucks on him like it’s what he’s made for, “W-Wooyoung! Ah- fuck! G-Gonna cum!”

Just as Yunho was about to cum, the front door swung open and Wooyoung pulled away from Yunho quickly. Yunho let out a pathetic sob as he started to grind his hips into the air trying to chase Wooyoung’s mouth.

Yunho didn’t even notice the door open or the rest of the members stopping in their tracks as they saw the naked boys in the middle of the room.

It was only until Mingi let out a loud laugh, that he finally looked in their direction, “Need some help there?”

Mingi didn’t hesitate to drop his things at the door to make his way towards his poor friend who had the most desperate look on his face.

As Mingi made his way to Yunho he simultaneously removed himself of his clothing, leaving a trail of clothes, “M-Mingi! Please!”

At this point, Yunho didn’t care who touched him. He was just so desperate to cum. His eyes were practically begging for Mingi to do absolutely anything to him. Since Mingi was significantly bigger than Wooyoung, he was easily able to take most of Yunho down his throat. Yunho immediately gripped Mingi’s hair and his hips thrust into Mingi’s throat with loud moans.

Yunho suddenly forgot about the rest of the boys who had only previously just walked in, and was only focused on Mingi’s mouth.

Jongho had absolutely no words as San looked at him with a lopsided smile that was very innocent compared to the sight in front of them.

Jongho felt himself become flushed and hot as he practically ran to his room. San laughed softly because he knew that Jongho would get over his pride and join the rest of them in 10 minutes max.

Hongjoong and Yeosang were stood in the same spot as they glanced at each other before Yeosang spoke up in a condescending tone, “Are y’all really that desperate?” But in the same breath says, “One of y’all move over.”

Everyone’s attention is drawn back to Yunho as he lets out a choked sob as Mingi sucks him off just like he loves so much, “G-Gonna cum again! Please Mingi! It- ah!”

Yunho’s whines and begs got cut off as his second orgasm ripped through his entire body. His back arched beautifully and his hips were squirming as Mingi continued to take everything Yunho was giving him.

Mingi’s deep groans were vibrating Yunho’s over-sensitive cock and Mingi finally pulled away with a loud pop.

In Jongho's room, he can hear the loud whines and desperate moans coming from Yunho, his leaking cock begging to be touched. His hips ground themselves into his mattress to get some kind of pleasure without actually touching himself because, in all honesty, he was too embarrassed to do so.

“J-Jongho!” Jongho let out a soft whine as he heard his name being called by Yunho.

“Jongho, sweetheart… there’s no need to do it all by yourself.” Jongho looked at the doorway and saw Seonghwa standing there, completely naked and cock hard, as he referred to the way he was rutting himself onto the mattress, “Come let us help you… Yunho will be more than happy, you know.”

Seonghwa holds his hand out for Jongho to take, and finally, Jongho sucks it up and gets up. He lets Seonghwa take him to where the rest of the members were and everyone’s attention was on him.

Yunho sits up and Jongho's eyes are glued to his cum stained figure and his cock twitches. Seonghwa lets his hands run over Jongho to help him relax a little bit before he starts to undress him.

Jongho makes his way to Yunho to sit on his lap. Yunho wraps his arms around him, smearing cum on the younger boy.

Jongho shoves his head in Yunho’s neck as he starts to grind himself on Yunho’s cock. San looks at Yunho in amazement. He can’t believe that Yunho is still as hard as before, his erection never going down.

He turns his attention to Yeosang who is stroking his cock as he’s watching the two boys in the center of the circle they’ve created, “Look at our pretty whores.”

Jongho let out a loud moan at San’s words. He turned to look at them and saw San’s hand making his way down Yeosang’s abs down to grip onto his cock.

Jongho's eyes were shifting to each member as he saw them each with either theirs or another, cock in their hand. Jongho’s body suddenly stiffened as he thrashed harshly as Yunho took hold of his ass and began thrusting along with Jongho.

Mingi who had previously just been with Yunho cocked his head at the sight in front of him. His cock was throbbing and deep moans spilled out his swollen lips as he harshly jerked himself off.

Wooyoung let out pathetic whimpers as his eyes were glued to Mingi who was next to him. His eyes were glossy and his eyes were begging for Mingi to touch him. Wooyoung took hold of Mingi’s hand and almost started crying with relief at the friction.

In turn, Mingi did the same. He grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and wrapped it around his leaking cock. Mingi thrust himself into Wooyoung’s hand and before he knew it, ropes of cum squirted onto Jongho’s ass.

Jongho felt the hot cum squirt on his ass and soon after he felt it once again, and turned to see Wooyoung with tears falling down his red cheeks, “Pleaseplease fuck! M-Mingi fuck! F-Feels so good!”

Jongho suddenly got overwhelmed. Yunho’s touch feels 10x stronger and he cums. Yunho lets out another sob and he can’t stop the tears that begin to spill from his eyes as he cums for the third time.

Jongho and Yunho’s cum mixes together and Jongho lets himself back onto his knees and Hongjoong makes his way in front of Jongho and pushes his head down so he could swiftly push his cock past his pretty lips.

Until now, Hongjoong had stayed mostly quiet, only softly jerking himself as he watched the rest of his members, but Hongjoong became restless.

Jongho gripped Hongjoong’s thigh as he began to thrust into his mouth. Jongho let out choked noises but further tilted his head to take more of Hongjoong’s cock.

From behind him, he felt something slide between his ass, and then he heard Yeosang’s voice, “S‘alright. Not gonna fuck you. At least not today…”

With that, Yeosang started thrusting himself between Jongho's ass in time with Hongjoongs.

Jongho's choked moans and groans were vibrating against Hongjoong’s cock. Jongho had his eyes glued on both Hongjoong and Yeosang who were above them, and he let out a loud sob when Yeosang pulled Hongjoong in for a long kiss.

Jongho watched with droopy eyes as Hongjoong shoved his tongue into Yeosang’s throat. As their make out got more intense, so did both of their thrusts. Jongho's eyes were watering and he was gagging as Hongjoong’s cock continuously slammed against the back of his throat.

An accidental swallow around Hongjoong’s cock was the final trigger and his cum shot down Jongho's throat. As he came down from his high he pulled away from Yeosang and slowly pulled out of Jongho's mouth, with a string of saliva connecting the two.

Yeosang turns around when he hears a chorus of groans and sees Wooyoung attaching his lips to Yunho.

Yeosang is watching with a flushed expression as Wooyoung is licking and sucking all the cum off of Yunho’s cock, thighs, stomach, and chest.

Wooyoung let’s out content hums as he makes his way up Yunho’s body, making sure not to miss a drop of cum on the way,

“Such a cum slut.” San laughs condescendingly at Wooyoung, “then, when Yeosang is finished, why don’t you go and help clean Jongho up?”

Wooyoung eagerly nodded and turned his attention to Yeosang, “H-Hyung, please! Cum. Please cum! I-I’ll be a good boy and clean it all up for you!”

Yeosang lets out a shaky laugh, “Y-Yeah? You’ll clean up Jongho like a good boy? Like a good little cum slut?”

“Yeah- y-yours. Your cum slut.” Yeosang let out a deep groan at Wooyoung’s words and he finally let himself cum. He smirked slightly in between his deep moans and grunts as he made sure to cover Jongho‘s ass, and even slightly lower to his balls, with cum.

As soon as Wooyoung could tell Yeosang was done, he pushed him to the side and immediately made contact with his ass.

At first Jongho was fine. It was only on his cheeks that Wooyoung had been so eagerly licking the cum off, but then he pulled away and before he knew it, he took the entirety of Jongho‘s cock in his mouth, taking the last bit of cum off of it.

Jongho squeezed his eyes shut and his entire body spasmed as Wooyoung spread Jongho open and licked and sucked around his rim, “Woo! Ah- fuck!” And without any warning, Jongho came for the second time.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he somehow managed to place Jongho‘s cock in his mouth to catch the rest of his cum.

Jongho was completely exhausted. He was leaning most of his weight on Wooyoung who held onto him tightly.

Yunho was spaced out with heavy breaths as Mingi carefully played with his hair.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had gotten up to get washcloths and bottles of water to help clean the rest of the members up.

Seonghwa passed a washcloth to a couple different members so they could help each other. Mingi gently ran the washcloth over Yunho’s face to wipe his rosey tear stained cheeks then over his stomach and thighs to clean him up as much as possible.

Wooyoung was ever so gently cleaning Jongho because of how worn out and sensitive he was, and San and Yeosang were both lying across the sofas with a dreamlike gaze on their face.

“Thank you San. It was fun…” Yunho mumbled as him and Mingi walked off to his room to take probably the best sleep he’d get in weeks.

“Maybe next time we’ll have even more fun… what do you say, Jongho?” Wooyoung ran his fingers through his hair as Jongho laughed softly as he nodded.

San was already most definitely thinking about the next time something like this could happen… he was just dying to absolutely ruin one of his pretty friends.

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write more for Dutch from Predator? Lol it's me btw! I was wondering if it could be a hate to love relationship, where Dutch, being the hardass he is, can't live down his pride, and the reader (preferably female), is a strong independent woman who is actually Poncho's little sister, learning from the best. To add on, can the reader be short as Arnie is so tall, and because I am only 5'2" irl?

I kind of combined this with the enemies-to-lovers prompt request, I hope that's ok! I hope you like this!😊💛

Old Habits Die Hard.

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, mention of violence, alcohol consumption

Masterlist

"This round's on me, what does everyone want?" Mac announces as we go to sit down at the table, the mercenary remaining standing.

"A beer sounds good." Poncho says, looking at the rest of us.

We give words of agreement, taking our respective places at the table as Mac goes to leave the room and go to the bar.

"Don't forget a soda, I don't think they sell alcohol to underage people here." Dutch chips in, flashing a pointed look in my direction.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes, forcing a smile as the others chuckle, "A beer is fine, Mac. Thanks."

He nods, ducking from the room we rented out for the evening, leaving the five of us alone.

"So what's all this about, Dutch? Got us another job?" Blain questions, the gruff man leaning back in his chair, jaw working languidly at the gunk in his mouth.

"Yeah, but this one's a bit different." The major replies, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.

"Different? How?" Hawkins frowns, cokcing his head to the side.

Dutch takes a deep breath of smoke from the cigar, sitting back in his seat.

"An old friend from the army got in touch. Says he needs us for a rescue op."

"Friend from the army? Who?" I inquire, lifting an eyebrow.

"Old commander of mine." Dutch replies dismissively, barely sparing me a glance.

"Ok, where is the job?" Poncho asks, my brother shooting me a knowing look, his eyes flicking up as Mac walks in again, seven beers cradled in his arms.

"What job?" He asks as he places the bottles down on the table, looking round at us all.

"Dutch got us another op." Blain grunts, reaching out to take his beer, spitting the contents of his mouth out into the ashtray on the table. Hawkins, Poncho and I pull faces at that, but don't say anything.

"Another one? We only just got back!" Mac exclaims, taking a seat across from Hawkins, taking a sip from his beer.

"Perks of the job." Dutch shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Will you at least tell us what it is?" I can't keep the impatience from my voice, finding his vagueness irritating.

"I'm getting to it, (Y/n), calm down." He rolls his eyes, "It's in central America, somewhere in the jungle. Phillips was cagey about where exactly, but he said it's got something to do with guerrillas and hostages. We're supposed to get the hostages out of there."

"Sounds simple enough." Billy muses, rubbing his chin.

"When is it?" Poncho chips in, watching the major closely.

Dutch is quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking over us all, before he finally responds.

"It's tomorrow."

I nearly choke on my beer, spluttering as I sit upright in my chair.

"Tomorrow? Are you insane?!" I burst out, annoyed, "We got back from Afghanistan at the ass-crack of dawn today, and you want us to fly off to the jungle at the same time tomorrow? You trying to kill us or what?"

The others nod in agreement, murmuring their own complaints, only to shut up when Dutch turns a venomous glare on me.

"You know, if you spent half the energy you do on complaining on growing, you wouldn't look like a damn child anymore, (Y/n). Would make taking jobs a lot easier - means I don't have to explain why we've only got six and half mercs with us." He snaps, voice laced with anger, "I'm not insane, just practical. We all need more money, and the work is low at the moment. You'd know that if you weren't off lounging at home all day, letting us do the hard planning and prep work."

Silence descends on us all, my jaw dropping at the vehemence behind his words. No one speaks, letting the two of us stare at each other in hatred, my expression swiftly creasing into fury, every muscle in my body going tense.

Another moment passes, before I suddenly stand from the table, slamming my bottle on the table as I stalk past, heading straight out the door. Poncho tries to stop me, calling out to me, but I ignore him, practically seething as I leave the bar and stride to the car my brother and I came in. Unlocking it, I climb in and slam the door, buckling myself into the driver's seat as I throw the car into drive, pulling out onto the road.

Furious, I drive way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of the traffic with no regard for my own safety as I careen down the highway. Screeching horns and tyres follow me as I go, but I ignore them, focusing instead on getting home, filled with anger now as Dutch's words play over and over in my head.

It doesn't take long for me to pull up in the drive of my house, the car skidding on the loose gravel as I harshly jerk the handbrake into place, unbuckling myself before I climb out, making my way over to the door. Opening it, I go in and head straight to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to cool me down, knowing I need to calm down. I strip down quickly, quickly getting under the cold water with my fists clenched at my sides for a while, until I start to massage myself with my fingers, working out the knots in my muscles. It's pleasant, but I can still feel the anger burning in my system, so I swiftly leave again, wrapping myself in a towel.

As I leave the bathroom, I hear a car pull up in the drive, the tyres crunching loudly on the gravel, announcing the newcomer's arrival. I dismiss it, chalking it up to it being Poncho, come to check up on me as the door downstairs opens, then closes, footsteps sounding in the hall as the person checks for me. The sounds are heavier than I thought they would be, and the identity of the person soon dawns on me.

Immediately, I feel the anger start racing through me again, my face creasing into a scowl until I force myself to calm down, at which point I turn and storm up to my bedroom. Going in, I start to rummage through my wardrobe, looking for some new clothes, trying to bite back the irritation rising in me as I hear the footsteps getting closer, the heavy boots not even halting as they reach the door. Within seconds, the wooden structure has been flung open, an angry mercenary standing in the space behind it.

"Ever learn to knock?" I snap at him as soon as I turn around, glaring at Dutch as he looms in the doorway, "Nevermind, you never learned manners period."

"Says the person who just stormed out of a bar." He scoffs, sneering at me as he steps into the room, "Talk about table manners."

"And whose fault is it I stormed out in the first place?" I glower at him, holding my towel in place as he continues forward, the glint in his eyes sparking a blazing heat inside me.

"Oh, so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?" Dutch jabs his finger at his chest before pointing it at me, brow furrowed in anger.

"You have a pretty poor idea of a joke, asshole." I spit back, lifting my finger up in his face as we step closer together, less than a foot away from each other now.

"You're the only one who thinks so, short-ass." He glares down at me, making me all too aware of how he towers over me.

Swallowing tightly, I shift uncomfortably.

"Sure about that? I can't be the only one who thinks your height jokes are getting old." I reply venomously, jabbing my finger at his chest.

He laughs humorlessly.

"Oh, but we both remember a time when you used to love playing into your shortness." His voice drops an octave, eyes boring into me, "I had you on your knees more than once with only standing over you. Remember?"

A flare of lust goes through me at the reminder, flashes of him looming over me as he pounded his cock harder and harder into my waiting mouth coming, unbidden, to mind. I'd always liked the sight of his muscular body above mine, as well as the feelings of his large hands wrapped around me, even if it was simply to hold my head still whilst he fucked it.

"That was months ago." I hiss back at him, barely able to look up at him - if I do, it'll be too much like the memories in my head and I'll give in to the urges of my body. Already I can feel arousal pooling in my panties, my cheeks flushing as I realise this.

"Old habits die hard." Dutch growls, before swiftly reaching out to tear the towel away, exposing me to him. Before I can protest, however, he's taken hold of me and lifted me against the wall, pinning me roughly in place with his body, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His lips crash into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues ensuing as we kiss like we used to, wet sounds filling the air as we press closer and closer together. Soft sounds of need escape me, but they're swallowed by the ravenous major above me, who licks and nips at my lips, a few grunts leaving him as he does so.

Moving to pull him closer, I moan loudly as Dutch jerks his hips into mine, using them to hold me in place, his arousal pressing at my clit through his trousers. I have to bite back whines at the feeling of the rough fabric against my unprotected clit, my slick soon covering the crotch of his jeans as he rolls his hips into me. One of his hands moves to palm roughly at my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two calloused fingers, his other hand grasping my ass, which he squeezes tightly. Whimpering into his mouth, I take my nails down his back, grinding my sensitive clit down onto him, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from the stimulation.

Months and months of pent up lust pour through the kiss, only breaking as Dutch pulls back to yank his shirt off, revealing his muscular yet scarred torso to me. Instantly, I go to lick and kiss at the toned muscles, only to yelp indignantly as he takes hold of my hair and jerks my head back, growling as he fastens our lips together again. He presses closer, crushing me against the wall with his huge body, grinding his arousal into me with vigour, only to suddenly pull away, keeping me in his arms. In seconds, Dutch has thrown me on the bed, standing at the end with his hands on his belt.

Biting my lip, I eagerly move to help him, but he pushes me back down roughly, wasting no time in pulling his trousers and underwear down, revealing his leaking cock to the air. I moan at the familiar sight of it, eyeing up the veined length keenly, following it from the base to the reddened tip, watching as precum beads there.

Dutch doesn't give me long to admire him, climbing over me and pressing himself against me as soon as he's exposed, his lips moving to my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, biting at sensitive points as he goes, licking over them briefly each time to soothe them, every movement extracting a needy whine from me. One of his hands moves down to his cock, which he takes hold of and runs through my slick folds, coating the tip generously as he supplies pleasure to me. With every pass over my clit, I moan and rock up into him, clutching at his back.

"Fuck me, Dutch. Show me how much bigger you are." I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist.

As he hears my words, however, Dutch growls, leaning back, making my legs fall from where they were. I whine at the lack of contact until he rolls me onto my front, grabbing hold of my ass to knead and grope.

"I'll show you alright." He practically snarls in my ear as he bends back over me, moulding his huge body to my smaller frame, hands jerking my ass into his hips. He grinds himself into me for a moment, building my pleasure further as he bites at the back of my neck, sending bolts of electricity through me, which I respond to by rocking back onto him.

With a final grunt, Dutch lines himself up with my hole, surging forwards into me in one stroke, stretching me out as he goes. A half-scream leaves my throat as I feel his cock slide over every sensitive spot inside me, my walls clenching deliciously around him, every vein rubbing against me. He gives me no time to adjust, pulling out entirely before slamming back into me, setting a hard, fast pace that has me seeing stars in no time. Ecstasy races through me, a knot tightening swiftly in my abdomen at the feeling of his thick cock pounding into me.

Dutch straightens after a moment, taking my hip in one hand whilst he presses my face into the bed with the other, using me as leverage to shove his cock as far into me as he can go, grunting and groaning behind me in pleasure and need. Under his grip, I feel totally immobile, but the thought of him using me to work out his anger sends me reeling, my walls clenching tightly around him, tearing a moan from his lips. His name falls from my own, almost like a mantra as he slams into me, sending bolts of pleasure through me, bringing me closer and closer to what I really want.

"So close, Dutch...keep going, oh fuck, you're so good…" I moan out, my words muffled slightly by the bed, though they are audible enough for him.

A whine of displeasure echoes from my chest as he suddenly pulls out, my pussy throbbing at the loss. He doesn't wait long, though, rolling me back onto my back before he hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, thrusting roughly back into me. With the new angle, whole other waves of pleasure ripple through me, his cock hitting the very spot that brings me crashing towards an orgasm. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, along with obscenely wet noises and moans from the two of us, both too caught up in the moment to care about what comes after.

"You're getting tighter, (Y/n)...gonna cum for me, are you?" Dutch groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as my pleasure rapidly builds, "Come on, (Y/n), cum for me!"

With a final scream of ecstasy, the tension inside me snaps and I cum, hard, my walls clenching like a vice around him. White light blinds me, everything disappearing around me as the pleasure floods through me in a great torrent, rendering me incapable of moving momentarily.

Vaguely, I feel Dutch pound into me a few more times before he pulls out and cums over my stomach, letting out a roar of satisfaction at the sensation, his hand wrapped around himself, jerking his cock desperately. Breathing heavily, he milks himself dry before he slumps over me, smearing the sticky substance between us, the two of us left breathless in the throes of our pleasure.

"Still as good as I remember." He hums, rolling off of me to lie beside me.

"Could say the same thing." I sigh, trailing a finger through his cooling cum, grimacing at the sight of it.

Groaning, I heave myself up, taking the towel up from the floor.

"Where are you going?" Dutch asks, still lounging on the bed.

"Shower. You should, too." I inform him, moving to leave, only to stop still as the door swings open.

"(Y/n)? Who are you- oh." Poncho blushes a deep red, grimacing as he swiftly ducks back out of the room.

"Oh shit…" I groan, putting my head in my hands, unable to bite back a small smile.

With just grins, leaning back on his hands.

"Oops."

Tag list: @nightime-luna-fairy

#predator 1987 #predator #predator Dutch #Dutch Schaefer #Alan Schaefer #Dutch x reader #Dutch Schaefer x reader #Dutch Schaefer imagine #Arnold Schwarzenegger #break writes

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Cookie Baking (and Subsequent Burning) [blurb] {Flip Zimmerman x Reader}

from my sweet nonny:

Hello, hi. For Christmas In July Day 1 "Cookie Making": Flip and the reader are so bad at cooking, let alone baking. Here some funny dialogue prompts I found that I think will fit the story XD "I can already see three of your hairs in there. Tie your fucking hair up!" "My wrists hurt. Gah!" "I’m actually afraid the oven will explode." "It’s little crispy -” “It’s burnt. It’s black and burnt." Thank you <3

author’s notes: hello, hello! thank you for requesting this :)

dialogue prompts

“I can already see three of your hairs in there. Tie your fucking hair up!” “I’m actually afraid the oven will explode.” “It’s (I’m using ‘they’re’ in the story) a little crispy” -- “It’s (they’re) burnt. It’s (they’re) black and burnt.”

warnings: fluffy goodness. humor. some light smut (oral sex, f receiving). epic fail baking. fire scare lol.

(possible) tw’s: cigarette smoking (canon for character).

“I can already see three of your hairs in there. Tie your fucking hair up! I don’t want hairy cookies for Christmas this year.”

You laugh, bumping him with your hip before dumping the flour into the batter. “Hey, some of them might be yours, goof. Why don’t you pull your hair up, hm?”

“I am not pulling my damn hair up.” He huffs, then begins whisking the batter.

“Oh, the amount of money I’d pay to see you with a ponytail...”

Flip laughs softly, shaking his head. “You can just keep on dreamin’ with that one.”

Once the batter’s mixed, you and Flip look down at it, cringing slightly.

“Now I’m no pastry chef, but that doesn’t look right to me. I think we did it wrong, peanut.”

You nod in agreement, looking closer at the strangely runny yet somehow lumpy dough sitting in the metal mixing bowl. It has a strange odor, not really one the would resemble the vanilla extract that the recipe called for. Even the color looks a bit off.

“Well, let’s just put it in and see what happens. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Famous last words, indeed.

The batter is scooped and put on the cookie sheet before being thrown in the preheated oven. You set the timer before pouring each of you a mug of adult hot chocolate while Flip lights up a cigarette.

He leans down and watches the cookie begin to bake, seeing them already bubbling suspiciously. “I’m actually afraid the oven will explode, peanut. Those cookies are lookin’ awfully sketchy to me.”

“They’ll be alright.” You say, taking a sip from your Christmas mug. “Let’s just watch some TV or something to distract ourselves.”

Flip smirks, stepping in front of you before you can go anywhere. “We don’t need the television set to distract ourselves, Y/N. I think we can do something a bit more productive and physically beneficial with our twenty-five minutes, don’t you think?”

His lips connect with yours as he leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the kitchen countertop. The familiar smoky tobacco flavor is obvious on his tongue as it reaches through your lips to explore your mouth.

“Mmm, Flip...” A shaky breath escapes your lips when his head ducks down and his coarse beard scratches your skin. He sucks gently and licks at your taut flesh while his hips begin to press forward against your pelvis.

“Go ahead and pull those pajama pants down, bend yourself over with legs spread real nice and wide for me.”

You assume the position, elastic waistband pulling against your ankles as you spread your legs and bend over the countertop. Flip pulls his half-hard length from his pants before kneeling down behind you, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out onto your folds before connecting his mouth with your warming center.

“Ah shit.”

He smirks, moving his mouth in the way he knows you like it, the way he knows will bring you the most pleasure. Your back arches and your hips squirm, gasping each time his nose bumps against your stiffened clit.

After a little bit, he pulls away and stands up, cock now fully hardened in his hand. He licks your leftover slick from his mouth as he positions himself at your entrance.

Just as he’s about to thrust in, the overwhelming smell of smoke fills the room and when he turns around, he sees that it’s coming from the oven. He quickly leaps into action, tucking himself back into his boxers before carefully turning the oven off.

The smoke alarms begin to sound and you frantically rush to fill a cup with some tap water, but luckily, the cookies weren’t on fire, not yet, anyways. Flip pulls them out and throws them on the stovetop, sighing softly as you go to turn off the alarms.

“Well, uh...” Flip says, chuckling. “They’re a little crispy.”

“Flip, honey, they’re burnt.” You laugh, pointing at the still-smoking cookies. “They’re black and burnt.”

Both of you laugh together, then look down at your failed, charred creations.

“At least there’s none of your hairs left in them.”

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wildingrose · 3 years

Text

hassle

dark alley help part 8

part 7: refusal | part 9: care

word count: 2k

》 public sex

- ✿ -

You twirled on the spot while keeping your gaze fixed on the store's wall mirror, fixing the blazer and feeling the material of the pants on you. "How does this look, Tae?"

When you didn't hear anything, you frowned and turned your head to where he stood leaning against a clothes rack. He was glaring at the fabric wrapped around your legs.

"Tae?"

"I don't like them," he muttered while scowling at your pants.

Your frown deepened. "Why? Do I look bad in them?" You thought they were perfect, hugging your waist comfortably and your legs still looked sexy despite it being hidden.

And that was the exact problem he had.

Taeyong loved seeing your beautiful legs when you wore short skirts and dresses and so he didn't like it one bit that they were being caged away. "They're not convenient."

It took you a while before you understood what he meant. Looking around, no one was near you and in a hushed tone said, "Seriously? You don't like them because it's not convenient for you to fuck me? These are for work and I'm not having you fuck me while I'm at work."

He finally lifted his gaze to meet yours. With a naughty smirk, he whispered, "Wanna bet?"

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, I'm getting this."

His eyes blew up. "No!"

"Give me a proper reason why I shouldn't."

His jaw clenched before another one hit him. "It'll take too long to dress."

You huffed. "More like too long to un-dress."

"It'll be a hassle."

"Tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He sulked and looked away. In a really quiet voice, he muttered, "Lighter colour would look better."

Impressive. "You finally give a proper reason. Good boy," you cheered.

His eyes darkened instantly and before he could lay a touch on you, you held a finger up to stop him. "Nuh-uh, don't you dare even try anything here."

He rolled his eyes and caught sight of formal dresses across the store. "Can't you at least get some dresses?"

"The only ones considered professional are those body tight style that go past the knees. Not a fan of that."

"At least they'll show your legs."

You gave him a pointed look. "I'm not trying to woo anyone with my legs. Plus, I feel like I'm radiating serious boss vibes in pants. At least as a newbie, I'll avoid dresses until I've gained some respect through my work."

He hummed. "What is this business anyway?"

"My dad started his own business in real estate. Remember that small building you came to pick me up and met my brother? That's where he has his small team. His name is doing well and wanted my brother who has no interest in it to carry it on. And that's where I stepped in and saved everyone. My dad's happy, my brother's happy, and I'm happy. I get the business and I still have you. It's a win-win situation."

Taeyong's face turned grim when there was still one member in your family who wasn't happy. "But your mom..." he trailed off quietly.

You sighed and held his face gently, making eye contact. "Yeah, she might not be happy right now, but she'll eventually come around it. Let's be a little optimistic, hm?"

He smiled a little and nodded slightly.

"Good! Now let's change the topic. Do you have a suit? Like a formal, business type suit or something?"

Taeyong shook his head, frowning. "Why?"

You hummed and looked around for the men's section. "You're gonna need one for an event. Go check some out while I change, okay?" You flashed him a smile and headed for the fitting rooms. Just when you were about to close your door, Taeyong pushed it and slipped in. You staggered back a bit from the unexpected force. Puzzled, you asked, "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer and shut the door before crouching down in front of you and unbuttoned your pants, yanking them down along with your panties in one swift move.

You gasped. "I thought I gave you a task, not an invitation to follow me here for a fuck," you spoke quietly through gritted teeth, hoping no one would hear you on the other side of the door.

"Put your feet up."

"I'm not."

He looked up at you. "See how annoying it is when you wear pants?"

You inhaled deeply and strictly told him, "Get this in your head. I am not letting you fuck me when I'm at work."

You both had a staring competition, his eyes holding utmost determination for what he wanted to accomplish in the small room as his hand gently remained wrapped around your ankle. Unlike him, your eyes shook the longer his eyes burned into yours and so your body reacted, feeling a slight throb in your exposed core.

Silently admitting defeat, you raised your foot and a huge smirk got plastered onto his face. He ripped your shoes and pants off and stood up, shrugging out only enough for his dick before pushing you against the wall and hooking your legs around his hips. His cock lined up to your entrance and held it there, waiting for your permission with a devilish smirk.

Quietly groaning, you whispered, "Don't you dare fucking tease me. Just do it!"

"Gladly."

He slowly pushed into you, both of your sighs mixing as he rested his forehead against yours. You bit into your bottom lip from having to be beautifully stretched out for the first time in nearly 48 hours.

"You feel so damn good, doll," he whispered, following suit and kept his voice low. "It's been a while."

"It's only been two days, Tae. I was busy." Busy learning the work and introducing yourself to the team.

He grunted. "That's too long." Pulling out a bit, he pushed in again, setting a slow and steady pace as he rolled his hips into you. "Not fair," he mumbled against your skin when his lips littered kisses along your jawline.

You shivered as your tight walls hugged him and tried to contain your whine when he wasn't quite rutting into you like the way you loved. If he did, it was going to be a challenge to stop yourself from drawing attention of concerned employees. Instead, you turned your head and sighed softly at the mirror displaying live porn between you and your man. Taeyong followed your gaze and curled his lips up. "Like what you see, doll?"

Your hands balled his shirt, nodding to his question. "Very."

"Good." He pecked your lips and pulled out to the tip, his hands pushing your ass up and giving it a gentle squeeze to get his doll ready for the mission.

And the timing couldn't have been worse when you heard a knock on the door.

"Ma'am, is everything going well in there?" an employee spoke, tone polite, friendly, and unsuspecting.

You gave Taeyong a strict look, silently warning him to not even think of doing anything. "Yeah, everything is- ah!"

Your fingers dug hard into his shoulders, your head flew back and hit the wall when he decided to have some fun by thrusting hard into you.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Her voice sounded panicky. "Do you require assistance?"

"No!" you squeaked out. You kept your eyes shut and tried to calm your spiked heart down. There were no locks for the rooms and if she turned the handle, then you were screwed. "I'm... changing."

"Alright, ma'am. Let me know if you'd like anything."

Opening your eyes, you glared at Taeyong. He bit his lower lip, being fully entertained by your reaction. "Ye-" Not even one full syllable in, Taeyong repeated his fun, pulling out and jamming into your slick hole swiftly. Your toes curled and you clamped one hand to your mouth to stop yourself from screaming while the other fisted tightly in his hair, not caring if it hurt him. He merely grunted in response.

Thankfully, you heard her heels click away from the door. Your hands went limp to your sides and narrowed your eyes on Taeyong who chuckled quietly. "That was not funny," you scowled after collected your breath.

"It was. You should have seen yourself."

"What if she walked in?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Free show."

You smacked his shoulder hard and he laughed it off. "Let's hurry this up. I'm tired."

Taeyong arched a brow. "My doll is tired? How is that possible? We're barely getting started."

You scoffed. "Oh really? After that fun you decided to play out and me making sure I didn't give away what we were doing in here, you don't think it's possible?"

He flushed his body against yours as he pressed you further into the wall, leaving no gap between his chest and your breasts. You silently wished that the two of you were bare chested for you to feel his hard chest against your soft one, though that could wait till you were somewhere out of public place. His fingers came up to lightly trail along your jaw as he hummed against your cheek, the tip of his nose sending tingles throughout your body. "We're gonna have to work on upping your stamina, doll."

Without warning, he dug his fingers into your hips and kept you still as he pounded in and out of your heat, not giving you time to prepare yourself in keeping quiet. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt the delicious pleasure near and did your best to muffle your moans and cries against your hand.

"You sound so fucking beautiful, doll. You should let it out, let them hear how nice you're feeling," he grunted out and shifted your ass to hit you in a slightly different angle and that was when it hit you.

Your cry hit a higher note, though gratefully not enough to hear an employee call for you again. Your muscles clenched around him as he fucked you out during your high, him bursting inside you not too long after.

After catching your breaths, he set you on your feet and you reached for the wall to hold yourself up as Taeyong fixed his pants back up to his hips.

His eyes landed on the supposed pants for purchase. Casting a nasty look at it, he asked, "Isn't it a hassle? Now you have to put your pants on. You didn't have to worry about that with your dress."

This guy and his hatred for pants was very interesting.

Huffing, you took off the blazer and Taeyong whistled with a pleased look. "Are we going for round two?"

You faked a smile and flung the blazer at his head, covering his sight. His shoulders shook as he laughed while you retrieved your panties from the discarded pants and put your own skirt and shoes back on. You draped the pants over your arm and went to rip the blazer off his head. Taeyong trailed behind you as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were stunned by a woman in uniform waiting on the other side with wide eyes. "Uh- I hope everything is okay," she stammered.

Shit. You screamed a series of curses in your head, wondering how long the employee stood there while you were being fucked.

Taeyong calmly walked past your shocked self and stood in front of the woman. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. "I wonder what assistance you would have given for our love-making session," he said with a joking glint in his eyes.

All the colour drained from her face as she stood still like a statue. Her expression was masked in sheer horror, and you yelled at him. "Taeyong!" His laughter boomed as he sauntered away. You gave her a sheepish smile. "I'm so sorry," you gently apologized and hurriedly scattered away from her horrified figure. You discarded the clothes on a nearby rack and yanked Taeyong by his arm, dragging him out the store and promising yourself to never step foot in there again.

tag list: @cosmiclatte28 @mel-yjh @johnnysuhisnotmyproblem @kttyongie @chantellsievert

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #taeyong smut #lee taeyong #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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asweetprologue · 4 years

Text

window to the soul

Octoberfest 3: ghost (from geraskier hollow) + stare

“It’s drawn to strong emotions,” Geralt said, and Jaskier knew that he was about to become bait.

The monster of the week was a wraith, but of an unusual type. Over the years of traveling together, Jaskier had seen plenty of wraiths - noonwraiths, nightwraiths, even a plague maiden once. He probably could take one on himself, knowing what he did about the process of destroying them, though it would be difficult without the use of yrden holding them in the physical realm. Luckily it was Geralt’s job to dispatch them. Jaskier usually didn’t even go along to watch anymore, unless the story behind the haunting was particularly ballad worthy.

This time, the wraith was different. Geralt had quickly identified the lost soul, a young woman who had recently died. She’d been deeply in love with a merchant that had regularly come and gone from the town, and had tried to cast a spell to trap his heart. Jaskier knew, after everything with Geralt and the djinn, that there was no curse or potion that could truly emulate love. Her spell had made the merchant obsessed with her, the man driven slowly mad by a fixation that he did not want and could not escape. In the end he had killed the girl and then himself, to escape from the madness that she had struck into his mind. The strength of her grief and the magic of the binding spell had changed the spirit of the woman into something else entirely, something extremely dangerous.

“It’s a sort of hybrid between a vampire and a wraith,” he explained. They were in the field beyond the village, and Geralt was meticulously checking over his potions. His blades were laid off to the side, the slick oil that he used to slay spectres shining across his silver blade. It was nearing sunset, the twilight hour that made it easier for apparitions to make themselves seen in the material world. Jaskier was sitting across from him, nervously stripping leaves from a small twig. Geralt continued. “The emotion she felt and her unrequited love turned her into a heartwraith. Sometimes people call them ‘hungry ghosts.’ They’re never satisfied, and they feed off of people’s emotions to try and fill the void in them.”

“Sounds like a truly awful existence,” Jaskier mused, watching Geralt. The evening light played across his broad shoulders, turning his hair from silver to gold. Jaskier thought he might be able to understand where she was coming from, even if he’d never have tried to bind Geralt to him unwillingly. It was a terrible thing, to be so deeply and unfortunately in love with someone who didn’t want you.

“I need to draw her out,” Geralt said gruffly. “She’s seeking out powerful emotions, like the couple that were attacked and the man who was beating his wife. I’ll need your help.” Jaskier sighed. Of course, it didn’t make much sense for Geralt to try to draw her out. Though Jaskier didn’t subscribe to the notion that witchers felt less than regular humans, Geralt was what Jaskier would dub repressed. The man couldn’t look an honest emotional conversation in the face without getting flustered and running away.

“Whatever you need,” Jaskier said, like he always did. He didn’t love playing bait, but he knew Geralt would never let anything bad happen to him.

Geralt nodded and picked up his silver sword, his steel one still securely in its sheath on his back. “Come on. We need to build a fire to destroy her locket.” The girl had kept a locket with a small lock of the merchant’s hair inside, which Geralt had guessed helped tie her to this plane. Over the next few minutes, the two men built a small pyre. Geralt pressed the locket into Jaskier’s palm, his fingers brushing over Jaskier’s skin. He tried not to blush at the contact.

“When she’s distracted, throw this into the fire. It’ll weaken her,” Geralt said. Jaskier nodded mutely, clutching the warm metal close. The fire crackled merrily beside them, painting the landscape around them in swatches of ocher and dark blue. It was truly approaching night now, only the barest hint of sunlight still left on the far horizon.

“What do you need me to do?” Jaskier asked. “To get her attention, I mean.”

Geralt gave him an odd look. “Nothing. I��m going to draw her in.” Geralt’s face was pinched in a way that Jaskier had come to realize meant he was experiencing some kind of emotion, though it was always hard to tell which one. Anger, frustration, sadness and pain all translated into relatively the same expression - tight jaw, drawn eyebrows, thinned lips. Jaskier wanted to reach out and sooth the tension from his friend’s features, but luckily the locket demanded his hands’ wandering attention. Geralt gestured to the soft earth beside the fire, clearly bidding Jaskier to sit. He did so, flopping gracelessly into a crossed legged position, back straight from tension. It was hard to forget that a wraith could appear any moment to wreck the quiet evening.

Geralt settled next to him, dropping into the kneeling position that he favored for meditation. His eyes were grave as he looked over Jaskier’s face. “Just… sit still,” he said softly. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to do with that tone, so he just tried to do as Geralt asked. He settled in, waiting for something to happen, but Geralt just stared at him.

For a moment it was awkward. Jaskier felt a blush spread across his cheeks as those golden eyes regarded him, sweeping over his face and following the line of his neck. Geralt was a man who always split his attention half a dozen ways at once, one eye always on the door and an ear out for trouble. Jaskier had accepted long ago that Geralt never fully listened to him, and that was alright. It wasn’t in his nature, and Jaskier didn’t need participation to hold a conversation. Now, though, he felt the full force of Geralt’s focus on him, looking back at him as if trying to see beyond a mask. Geralt’s own face was impassive, that slight frown still marring his features.

What could he hope to accomplish through this? If he wanted to elicit strong emotions, there were certainly easier ways to do it than a staring contest. Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever elicited strong emotions in anyone that he wasn’t actively singing to. It was he who was often overtaken by the whims of his own heart, prone to fits of temper and weeks of lovesickness by turn. Geralt never seemed to feel anything other than mild annoyance. Gods, what if Jaskier annoyed him so much that just looking at him made the witcher angry enough to summon a spectre? Jaskier knew he could be infuriating, but surely if Geralt detested him that much he would just leave Jaskier behind. Right?

Anxiety filled his chest, but he’d been instructed specifically not to move. Forcing himself to relax, Jaskier found himself taking the opportunity to just look back for once, something he so rarely had a chance to do. He absorbed all the details of Geralt’s face that he never allowed himself to - the way Geralt’s left eyebrow was ever so slightly interrupted by a tiny scar, the slight wrinkles on his forehead from years of frowning and the even fainter ones around his eyes, the ever so slight part of his lips. The dramatic light of the fire and the moon overhead made his face into a patchwork landscape of color, the valley of purple shadow in the hollow of his cheek highlighted by soft gold. Jaskier committed every feature to memory, thinking of the notebooks he could fill with songs dedicated to Geralt’s eyes and lips and brilliant white hair. He loved him so much it felt like it was going to drown him, leaving no room in his chest for his lungs.

After he’d finally taken in all the abstract elements of Geralt’s face that he could in the low light, Jaskier’s eyes dragged back to meet Geralt’s. The gold of his irises were nearly consumed by dark pupil, his eyes expanding to take in as much light as possible in the darkness. In this lighting he looked both more and less human, and it made Jaskier feel helplessly fond. Their eyes met, and suddenly the situation struck Jaskier as a bit funny. Two men sitting in a field, silently staring at each other, one pining away like nothing else while the other tried to summon a ghost. It was ridiculous. He quirked a playful eyebrow at Geralt, as if to say, Aren’t we just a couple of fools?

Jaskier watched Geralt’s face shift, a second of surprise flitting across his face. And then, without warning, there was something new there, something Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever seen before. A softening in Geralt’s eyes, in his brow, as he looked at Jaskier, open and affectionate. The expression hit Jaskier like a punch, or a kiss, demanding and devastating. Geralt’s mouth opened on a low exhale, and Jaskier leaned forward, wondering if he dared, if Geralt might -

There was a screech, and the wraith was upon them.

Geralt was up in an instant, silver sword flashing as he blocked a clawed hand from coming down on Jaskier’s head. Jaskier yelped as he scurried out of the way, clutching the locket he’d almost forgotten. There was a sudden burst of purple light in the field, making the shadows around them dance and twist eerily. The wraith made a horrible noise, like flint scraping across metal, endless and clearly annoyed. Geralt pushed her against the wall of the magical trap, cutting off bits of wispy energy with his sword.

Jaskier wasn’t sure when the exact right time was, but the wraith was certainly distracted. Jumping forward, he tossed the locket down into the fire, watching as the clasp popped open and the little lock of hair fell into the embers. It caught quickly, and Jaskier heard the wraith shriek again, this time a haunting and mournful sound. When he turned back it was just in time to see Geralt shove his sword in her chest. The strange, cottony fabric of her ragged dress seemed to dissipate in the wind, her dry flesh cracking and falling away like old paint. After a moment there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

“Go in peace,” Geralt said, and turned to Jaskier. Dropping to one knee, he said, “Are you hurt?”

Jaskier pushed himself into a better sitting position. They were close, too close. He hoped the warmth of the fire would mask his blush. “I’m fine, thanks to you. Is she really gone?”

Geralt nodded. “Should be. She has no tether to this world anymore without the locket.”

“Right,” Jaskier said. He paused. “So. Um. What you did there seemed to work, at least.”

Geralt leaned back away, out of Jaskier’s space. He missed the proximity immediately. “I wouldn’t have exposed you if I could think of another way.”

“Well, it’s not easy to find someone as irritating as me on such short notice,” Jaskier said nervously. “Hardly efficient.”

Geralt gave an almost comical shake of his head, surprise slapped across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Jaskier shifted, uncomfortable. Giving a forced laugh, he said, “Well, I can only imagine that you were conjuring up strong emotions of the, ah, annoyance you so often display when I do something like, I don’t know, sing or eat or breathe. I know you’re not so easily swayed by my charms.” He tried to pass it off like a joke, but he knew it fell flat even as he was saying it. There was too much hurt in his throat to make it come out anything less than bitter. He stared into the fire, watching the locket turn a liquid red from the heat.

A warm hand suddenly came up to cradle his jaw, and Jaskier blinked in surprise as Geralt’s fingers urged him to look up. “It’s not that,” Geralt said forcefully. “You must know, Jaskier, you have to - When I look at you, it’s so...” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. Words had never been his strength. “I feel many things for you, bard.”

Jaskier swallowed. “You do?”

Geralt’s eyes were hot on him, and Jaskier wondered if one could be branded by a glance. It certainly felt like it. “Yes,” Geralt said. “Intensely.”

“Oh,” Jaskier stammered. “Um. I’m not sure if I’m reading all this right, but assuming that you’re saying you don’t hate me, then, ah -”

Geralt gave an annoyed huff, and Jaskier was just about to comment, say something like, see, I am irritating, but then Geralt was kissing him, and he decided to let it go. He leaned into the press of lips, gasping softly. It was brief, nearly over before it began, but Jaskier could feel the warmth of it after Geralt pulled away, breath ghosting over his skin. Jaskier shivered.

“Quite the opposite,” Geralt said softly. His eyes were molten gold, hotter than the locket still melting in the fire at Jaskier’s side, and Jaskier never wanted to look away.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he said, and leaned up to kiss him again.

this fic was heavily inspired by Somedrunkpirate’s piece A Lover’s Lament, which is one of my favorite stories of all time. If you read it you’ll be able to see exactly what scene I borrowed from, and I need you to know that it lives in my head rent free.

edit: for some reason tumblr ate everything but the heading for this fic and I didn’t realize until this morning, so thanks to the ten people who liked it with no content LMAO. yall the real

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tennessoui · 3 years

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oh my god literally every single prompt on that list is gold and i'd love to see your obikin take for all of them. hmmm... if i had to choose i guess first 13. co-stars au?? thank you lots of love !!!

ah bless!! thank you so much!! i'm slowly working my way through most of the prompts on that list so you might see many many more before I'm done with my ask box. I think after two more, I'll put em on ao3 to keep em more organized too. this has been soooo fun!!

13. Co-Stars AU(/7. Fake Relationship AU)(2.5 k)

“No.”

“Ani, darling, you can’t say no.”

“Don’t call me that. And secondly, I can. I just did. This is my personal life, the company has no control over that.”

“While you’re filming its movie and it’s giving you money, you’ll actually find that it does, Anakin.”

Anakin sits down heavily on the bench outside his trailer, leaning forward until he can put his head in his hands. He wants to run his fingers through the mess on his head, but they’re in between takes right now and the make-up department will definitely kill him if they have to fix him up again.

“Asajj, please. You know how hard it was to get to come out as bisexual. If the first person I date after that is a woman, no one will remember! It’ll just be completely erased, and I’ll be Anakin Skywalker, Playboy Actor again.”

“But you do like women,” Asajj points out. “So either way, you’d be confirming your sexuality.”

Anakin sighs and leans his head back against the metal of the trailer. “And it would be different if I was actually in love with Padme, but she’s just my co-star and--”

“Anakin, she’s your co-star. You’re in a blockbuster movie where you dramatically save her life and then kiss her as the credits roll. This is just business. You like her. You’re friends. Think of it less like dating, and more like going to grab lunch together. And coffee. Maybe a fancy dinner. Several times a week.”

“For how long?” Anakin asks, resigned and despairing and hating the fact that he ever got into acting.

Asajj sounds relieved. “Just until the movie’s out and sales are doing well.”

That could be months. That would be months. “And I have to?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

Anakin doesn’t say it’s fine. It doesn’t feel like it is fine.

“They’re not looking for anything to be confirmed. If asked about your relationship with Padme, tell them you think she’s a great woman and you’re enjoying spending time with her. No comment on any sort of serious relationship.”

“Because a break-up afterwards might hurt the chances for a sequel?” Anakin asks drily.

“Exactly! We’ll get you a head for the business yet, Anakin. Okay, I have to go, but I’ll send you the information now, just so you know what you’ll be expected to do. We’re thinking a dinner tomorrow to start things off strong, and then slow afterwards!”

She hangs up before he can say anything else and he slumps back boneless against the metal trailer. God.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Padme. Ventress is right. They were friends before this project and Anakin knows they’ll be friends after as well. They genuinely get along, and it’s probably one of the reasons Anakin was cast in such a big name production: the chemistry between them when they’re acting is undeniable. She’s one of his favorite people in the entire industry.

“Anakin?” One of his other favorite people in the entire industry asks hesitantly from in front of him. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he says.

“May I sit?”

“Yeah,” he says.

Like he’d ever turn Obi-Wan Kenobi away.

“Are you wearing your costume?” he asks, without opening his eyes. Obi-Wan’s playing the villain of the movie, and Anakin has a hard time focusing on anything else when Obi-Wan’s around him wearing that skin-tight white turtleneck and cape combination, with his hair slicked back and fake glasses perched on his nose.

Obi-Wan sounds amused. “No, I’m finished for the day. Heading home now. You don’t have to see how silly I look today.”

Anakin smiles slightly, despite everything. In one of his better acting moments, he’d told Obi-Wan that his costume was distracting because it looked so funny on him. Really, it was just hot.

(Of course, Obi-Wan had taken his criticism seriously and gone to the director and the costume department. They had decided that it would make Obi-Wan’s character more threatening if he pushed up his sleeves in almost every scene to reveal heavily tattooed forearms. Anakin had hated himself and his big stupid mouth for days afterwards.)

“Is...there anything I can do to help, Anakin? I hate to see you like this,” Obi-Wan places a hand gently on Anakin’s knee, and Anakin has to fight a shiver at the touch.

They’d met at the script-reading for the movie, a handful of months ago. Anakin had set two clocks in his head the moment their hands grasped each other and Obi-Wan smiled charmingly up at him. “So you’re the one to kill me?” He’d winked. “Tall order.”

One clock signified the weeks it would take for him to fall in love with the older man. The starting number was pitifully small, but Anakin had been watching Obi-Wan’s movies and interviews for years before meeting him. He’d known something about the man, which of course had paled in comparison to knowing the man himself. They’d spent two weeks choreographing the steps of the final fight scene, just the two of them in a repurposed ballet studio.

Looking back, Anakin isn’t sure how he’d survived. And he had never wanted it to end.

Which is the other clock, still ticking down in his head. The moment filming ends, and they go their separate ways. They’ll probably keep in touch, but Anakin won’t see him constantly, won’t be able to lean into the weight of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder, his knee, sometimes even on his cheek when he leans down in between takes to tell him how good of a job he’s done.

“Anakin?”

“Sorry,” Anakin snaps to the present. “Sorry. I was in my head. I. I don’t think so, no.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, tensing his hand as if he’s planning to remove it, which Anakin wouldn’t appreciate in the slightest.

“My agent says that the executives want me to date Padme. To drum up hype for the movie. Because I guess people will think it must be good if the co-stars start fucking each other?” He runs a hand across his face. “Um. Sorry, excuse my language.”

“Anakin, I’m forty-one, I think I’ve heard someone say fuck before,” Obi-Wan sounds amused again.

“Yeah, I just. Don’t want to? I guess maybe--I mean you probably didn’t see, but I came out as bisexual a year ago, and I haven’t dated anyone since, and I just know the way the rags will write about me and Padme if we’re seen together. And it’ll be like I just. Never came out.”

Obi-Wan makes a sympathetic noise but doesn’t interrupt. It’s one of the reasons Anakin loves talking to him.

“And my agent just sent me this contract, or I don’t know, list of things I have to do because there’s no way for me to get out of this and it just makes me feel trapped. But they don’t even want me to confirm if we're dating or not dating, they just want to create rumors about it, but it’s my life. I want to do what I want to do with my life, date who I want to date.”

“Do you...have anyone you want to date?” Obi-Wan asks, hand stilling from where he’s been casually rubbing circles on Anakin’s knee.

“No,” Anakin says too quickly and then grimaces. Does he really get paid for acting? He’s always so terrible at lying.

Obi-Wan hums. “I could...take a look at whatever papers your agent sent you?” He suggests. “I’m obviously not really an expert, but I have been in the business a fair bit longer than you.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin responds by rote, but hesitates, curious despite himself. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’ve nothing planned tonight except to have a glass of wine and pet my cat, Anakin. It would be a pleasure to help you any way I could.”

“Okay,” Anakin says, reaching out to lay his hand gently on top of Obi-Wan’s. He’s never done that before, never responded so openly to Obi-Wan’s touches. It’s an amazing thrill.

Obi-Wan flips his hand around until they’re holding hands, basically. In the middle of a public area. God, Anakin’s letting his crush get the best of him when Obi-Wan isn’t even gay. “Thank you,” he says, standing up and pulling away from the older man. It’s the right thing to do. The last thing he wants is for Obi-Wan to think he’s...predatory.

A harried looking crew member spots him as he stands and gestures to him to get back to the set. He smiles ruefully at Obi-Wan who gives him an unreadable expression but also a soft goodbye.

Later, in between takes, he forwards Obi-Wan the emails Asajj sent him, both the papers and the message at the top that says “dress nice for tomorrow at Delfino’s!” followed by a little smiley face he can’t believe she’d ever mean.

He knows nothing’s going to come of it, but. But he has to try.

----

Padme’s dressed to the nines in front of him. He’d compliment her outfit, but he’s already complimented her hair and her make-up, and he thinks she’ll scream if he continues to act as stilted as he’s being now.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly after the waiter leaves with their drink orders. “I know I’m being--awkward. I just.”

They’re seated in the middle of the restaurant, and Anakin knows there’s two paps already outside, taking pictures through the windows. The rest will have arrived by the time they pay the bill and leave. It’s a circus and he’s the main event.

“I understand,” Padme responds, the angel that she is. “I don’t particularly want to be doing this either.”

Anakin presses his hand to his chest, jokingly wounded. “What are you trying to say, Padme, my beloved, my dearest?”

She laughs and he does too, but in the back of his head he can hear the sound of a camera’s shutter clicking. Everything feels fake, and he feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.

A hand lands on his shoulder with startling familiarity and for a second he thinks it’s a very brave member of the wait-staff, before Obi-Wan Kenobi is swinging into his field of vision, pulling up a chair from god knows where and sitting right in between Anakin and Padme, never once removing his hand from Anakin’s jacket.

“Sir--” someone says in distress, “This is a two-person table.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and looks down at the table. “Well it certainly can fit three, so I would go as far as to say that tonight it can be a three-person table. Anakin, what did you order to drink?”

“The house white,” Padme supplies when Anakin makes no move to respond, instead choosing to gape at Obi-Wan like a fish out of water.

“Excellent choice, darling,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing at his upper arm absent-mindedly. “I’ve never been here, tell me. Do you serve a good seafood dish?”

The waiter stammers. “We have an acclaimed oyster platter, sir--”

“Oysters?” Obi-Wan smiles at the man, all teeth. “The aphrodisiac? What are you trying to get these kids in the mood for?”

Anakin blushes. “Obi-Wan!” He hisses, aghast. Obi-Wan’s eyes cut to him for a second before he smirks back at the waiter.

“I’ll take the oysters for the main course,” he says dismissively.

Somehow it’s that sentence that tips Anakin off, more than anything else he’s done tonight. Obi-Wan spends hours talking to the people that run the crafts table. He would never be so cold or rude naturally. He’s...playing a character, one that Anakin recognizes as being the villain from their movie (although without all the blood and murder).

Anakin only recedes into personas when he’s nervous about something. Can the same be said for Obi-Wan?

Padme, at least, looks amused. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” she says. “I see you’ve decided to crash our very romantic date.”

“Well that’s interesting, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan replies, turning to face her but keeping his hand on Anakin, although it slides down to rest on the crook of his arm. “I had Anakin send me the paperwork, mild curiosity, you know how it is, and I realized the strangest thing while I was reading over it.”

“Oh?” Padme asks.

“It never states which co-star Anakin should be seen with, just that he must be seen with a leading actor. And I don’t want to focus on the numbers here, of course, but in the rough-cut of the movie, I have thirty-four minutes of screentime. And you, my dear, have thirty-two and fifteen seconds.”

“Tragic,” Padme says, taking a sip of her water. "You may be considered more of a leading actor than I am."

“Certainly,” Obi-Wan gives her a friendly smile. Anakin is still stuck on the fact that Obi-Wan is here, that he read the paperwork, that he’s arguing semantics for the purpose of--of--

“And I suppose you’re here to offer yourself as a replacement?” Padme asks, leaning her head on her hand as she watches the two of them.

“Only if Anakin wouldn’t mind,” Obi-Wan says, turning to face him.

Anakin isn’t sure what he’s thinking right now. “But you’re not interested in men.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan says.

“But...you’re not interested in me.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan says.

“You are?”

“Excuse me,” Padme says. “I’m going to go to the restroom.”

“We’ll wait to order until you come back,” Obi-Wan reassures her, without taking his eyes off of Anakin.

Anakin bites his lip and hesitantly brings his hand up to sit palm up on the table. Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers again, like they had been just yesterday.

“I’m a very private person, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says quietly, all traces of any sort of persona dropped from his voice. “I’ve never come out, never wanted to. But I was so proud that you had when you did. And I--well. I suppose. You already get to fake-kiss Padme on screen, I thought that perhaps you’d like to try to fake-kiss someone else for a change.”

Anakin ducks his head and gathers his courage. He can’t not ask. A fake relationship with Padme would be awful, but one with Obi-Wan? That would be torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. He’s still reeling from the information that apparently Obi-Wan does like men and apparently he likes Anakin enough to come out for him.

But does he like Anakin enough to touch him and mean it? He has to know. He looks up at Obi-Wan’s earnest face from beneath his eyelashes. “What if I want to real-kiss you?”

Obi-Wan blinks, and a smile breaks out across his face. “Then you don’t even need to have to ask, darling. Kiss me all you want, if you’re okay with a clingy old man in your bed.”

“Not that old,” Anakin argues, smiling so hard he’s afraid his face will crack in two. “But I don’t want to kiss you tonight.”

Obi-Wan turns solemn, although his grip on Anakin remains tight. “We can go as slow as you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, you can have me later,” Anakin says, waving his free hand in the air. “I just don’t want our first kiss to be for the cameras.”

Obi-Wan catches Anakin’s palm and brings it up to kiss lightly. “You’re right, Anakin. That should just be for you and me.”

The rough brush of his lips over his skin causes Anakin to shiver. He’s never felt so on edge, as if his body is a live-wire. “Good thing you ordered the oysters,” he mumbles, blushing bright red as Obi-Wan laughs loud enough to fill the whole restaurant with its sound.

#asks #my fics #obikin #the next prompt is gonna be wayyyy more angsty so enjoy the fluff rn is all im saying #prompt fill

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