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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

Text

Say I Do (m) | jjk

Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.

Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)

AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au

Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

Word count: 5,2k

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).

Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘

Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜

This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜

Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).

This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨

Fancy reading on AO3? 😉

Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story.

As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.

Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.

The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck.

You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell.

A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.

What the fuck is Taehyung saying?

Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.

Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.

Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.

He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.

In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion.

As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.

Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table.

The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips.

With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests.

Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression.

As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown.

The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences.

Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.

In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes.

Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment.

Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.

Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.

The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.

“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook.

Fuck.

All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you.

Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends?

In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.

With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention.

Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests.

As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere.

Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.

Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy.

Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek.

Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.

Fucking hell he’s gonna come.

Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated.

Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.

Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm.

As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.

Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.

With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants.

With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.

But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx.

–

As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.

Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness.

He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.

As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass.

Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.

As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”

He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss.

As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.

In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you.

“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.

The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips.

You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins.

Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.

Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.

In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.”

The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body.

Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing.

Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.

Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold.

With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric.

“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.

His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.

A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit.

The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.

He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.

His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.

Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.

With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers.

Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.

He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”

You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp.

“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.

As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence.

His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall.

In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more.

With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?”

The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.

“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.

With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two.

“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves.

With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.

He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix.

“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!”

You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.

He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.

As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.

He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too.

His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him.

In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot.

“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.

“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment.

As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.

Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction.

“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.

As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins.

Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.

“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.

“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo.

Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels.

“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.

“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.

You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.

He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”

“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.

“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.

The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy.

Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.

With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.

“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.

He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.

Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜

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hoonvrs · 3 months

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R U ONLINE? — hyung line smau ( 3k special )

ON HOLD

PAIRING hyung line x fmr

HOW TO PLAY an interactive smau in which you as the reader decide the next step through a poll system. some updates may have a poll, some not depending on the progression. each poll will be linked in the chapter update so trust your intuition and have fun!

SYNOPSIS seems like there’s a small problem between the four best friends when they each find themselves crushing on the same girl. now it’s left up to you to decide who’s your endgame.

GENRE smau, more to be added

FEATURING ( enha ) all

WARNING swearing, kys/ kms/suicide jokes, friendly bullying, dirty/sex jokes ( more will be added if necessary)

STATUS on hold

TAGLIST ( OPEN ) send ask or comment to be added

S. NOTE tysmm for 3kk </33 wanted to do something special so decided on this lil fun games where i let my readers decide the course of this smau so hopefully it ends well and doesn’t get too angsty LMAOO

also please don't spam like as it shadowbans me and lessens engagement <3

PROFILES

DA boyz | DA girlz | DA privz

CHAPTERS

01 hundred hail marys STAT

02 the TRUE tortured artist

03 unbe-knownst

04 CHEEKY SLAG

05 perchance

06 youaremom

07 WARRR I DO

08 me at the aoa store

09 hoe out!

10 ominous as usual. Keep it up

11 jay stuns in new selfie

12 chop suiii

13 hahah what one direction said

14 ah gomen oomf chan

... more to be added

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hobie-enthusiast · 10 months

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UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, swearing (more than last and fuck too), mutual pining, making out, small bit of harassment, rebellious teens, confused feelings, getting together

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 2)

— here part two gang! honestly i have an idea for part three in mind but if that’s something u honestly want pls lmk asap

— part 1 | part 2 (here) | part 3

The next couple of weeks were.. odd between you and Hobie.

Even after a heartfelt confession about the pressure you felt, you still had a reputation to uphold. You kept treating him the way you normally did; ignoring him and pretending he didn’t exist.

At first, this didn't really bother Hobie. He was used to chasing after you, messing with you and poking fun at the student council president. But he was getting bored. The small bits of making you late to class or taking up your time were amusing, but he wanted more of a reaction from you.

When he started interacting less and less, you grew confused. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked the attention and small interactions.

Though it was small, being late and skipping class (very rarely at this point), made you excited. It made you feel.. alive in a way.

But all that was dissipating. And you were upset about it.

You sat in your room after a long school day, mindlessly scrolling through your computer. Your parents had asked that you try and find a prom outfit, but that became boring really quick. You could never wear something truly exciting; just some fancy outfit plain coloured with fancy hair.

A knock on your window startled you from your thoughts. Glancing out, you see Hobie looking in, motioning for you to open the window. You walk over confused, deciding to open the window.

"Brown? It's.." You glance back at your alarm clock. "..10 pm. What are you doing here?"

"Awe, come on sweetheart. After such a confession, shouldn't we be on a first name basis?" He says, inviting himself into your room.

You scoff. "One, no, as you don't use my first name. And two, you can't be here! My parents are right down the hall!"

Hobie shrugged as he looked around your room, analyzing the decor. He noticed the clean desk you had, along with a neat bookshelf of many scientific books and knick-knacks. It suited you, every detail down to the way your game console sat neatly on your TV stand, not a speck of dust in sight.

"Did you show up just to judge my room?"

Hobie shook his head. "Nah, came t' ask ya somethin'." He said, sitting on your desk chair. "Up for an adventure?"

"Excuse me?" You question, taking a seat across from him on your bed. "When?"

"Now."

You know Hobie was.. absolutely crazy in some ways. But this? Going on a random adventure on a Friday night, and asking the person he wants to go with by entering their room via window was.. not the kind of crazy you would categorize him as.

You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms. "You serious right now?"

"As serious as I always am." He responds with a shrug. "'s up to you. We'll be gone 'till tomorrow. Either 'u're up for a challenge or not."

A challenge he says? Hobie knew that you could be riled up from being challenged to do something. Perfectionists always had to win in his eyes.

And he was right.

"Give me five minutes."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Next thing you knew, you were on a train from your isolated little town to Brooklyn itself. Hobie blindly led you onto a train, told you to not worry about tickets, then let the train take you both to the destination in mind.

Of course Hobie remembered what you said at the tree. He had been holding onto it for a while now. He knew you wanted to go to a city, do whatever you wanted, just for a little bit. And he was going to be the one to give that to you. Why? Well, that's a question he couldn't answer for himself.

"Brooklyn?" You questioned, looking out of the train window. "Why Brooklyn?"

"You said it under the tree. Ya wanted to go to the city, no?"

You nodded slowly, looking back out the window with a small smile. Of course you were flattered that he remembered your words. At least, you were hoping he did, you practically poured your feelings out.

Once the train stopped, you both stepped out of the station to admire the tall buildings towering over you. Hobie couldn’t help but be amused at the way your eyes shined at the new scenery. He practically came here everyday.

But he couldn’t tell you that. Not without plausible answers to the inevitable questions.

“So..” You turn to look at him, eyes still bright. “What do we do?”

He shrugs, hands in his vest pockets. “Whatever ya want. ‘s ‘ur day, no?”

"But I don't know where to go. I've never been to the city before."

Hobie's eyes widened for a moment, shocked at your words. You were really so sheltered you hadn't been to the city right beside your town? The thought alone was crazy to Hobie. He never understood why adults were so.. controlling.

He sighs, walking ahead. "Follow me then. I'll show ya ‘round."

And so you did just that. You followed Hobie around the city, taking in the sights he's showing you. All around the city, passing and weaving through people, making sure you had a nice time.

There was something you noticed. Before Hobie took you somewhere, he provided you with options on where to go. He didn't force you to go one place with him. He didn't strictly follow an itinerary. He always asked what you wanted to do, giving you full control of the day.

It was.. refreshing. This sense of freedom was exactly what you needed. To feel the fresh air of the city without worrying about impressing anyone. Hobie wasn't judging you, and you certainly weren't judging yourself.

The end of the day came quicker than your liking, and the two of you were on the rooftop of an apartment complex. The sun was setting behind the tall buildings, and Hobie brought the two of you some noodles to eat (he definitely didn't steal them).

You take a bite, setting the cup down with a sigh. "Today was.. actually really nice. I don't think I ever felt that, free before, if that makes sense?"

"Don't worry, you can say it." Hobie said, nudging your arm.

You roll your eyes with a small smile. "Mm.. guess I can. Thanks, Brown."

"Y'know, you can call me 'obie, swee'heart." He responded, shrugging. "'s better than m' last name, I think."

"I can't give you that satisfaction. Not yet."

Hobie raised an eyebrow, a shit-eating smirk crossing his face. "Yet?"

You're ready to correct yourself, but the words die in your throat. You couldn't help but like the sound of "yet". It meant more time with Hobie.. and you enjoyed that. Hobie's company was something you were starting to crave. Almost like a drug.

Hobie glanced over at you. "Gotta admit, didn't expect ya t' come with me. Considerin' 'ur parents don't know ya snuck out."

“Yeah well..” You sigh, looking out onto the building with a soft smile. “Maybe I just needed something different.” You finish, looking over at Hobie.

You’re suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are to each other. Hobie’s eyes flicker; your eyes, your mouth, and back a couple times. It’s almost like.. he was asking you for something. The longer you both stared, the more tempted he became, and you honestly couldn’t blame him.

So why did you pull away?

As soon as he started leaning in, you pulled back, clearing your throat. His eyes widen before narrowing, scoffing gently. Guess he misread the situation.

You really couldn’t tell him he didn’t.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next weeks Hobie Brown didn’t show up to school.

You had a feeling you were the cause. Brushing him off like that was such a dick move on your part. You knew that. You wanted nothing more than to find him and run to him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

But you couldn’t. You had an image to maintain. A reputation. All the trust you worked so hard to accumulate would go down the drain in an instant.

Of course.. Hobie may be worth that.

Hobie to you is worth that risk. All his rule breaking and crazed adventures are just what you need in your life. Something that gives you the freedom you longed for.

But you had to go and screw it up. And now here you were, three weeks after the incident, at your locker with a guy trying to talk you up.

“C’mon, [Name], just one night! It’ll change your life!”

You groan, slamming the locker shut. “Dude, I said no. Can you stop?”

“Why? I gotta know why!” He persisted, grabbing your wrist as you tried walking away.

You yank your arm away, trying to escape. “I don’t owe you that! Let me go.”

“Not until you-”

“Hey.”

You turn at the sudden voice, shocked at who it belonged to. There stood Hobie Brown, eyes filled with anger.

“They said, let go.” He said, grabbing the guy’s arm and yanking it away. “Learn t’ take a hint, aye?”

The guy’s eyes narrowed. “And who do you think you are, Brown? Their boyfriend?”

“As a matter of fac’-”

Then, Hobie turns you to him, bringing your lips to his. No warning, no asking, nothing. Just does what he’s been craving after three weeks of disappearance.

Everyone in the hallway around you two watched with shocked faces. Nobody could have seen this coming, not even you.

A thousand thoughts rushed through your head as Hobie kissed you, but one screamed to push away. So you did, giving him a shocked look before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the scene. You drag him to a storage closet, shutting the door.

“Brown, what the hell was that?!” You immediately ask, eyes narrowed. “What, do you disappear for three weeks then kiss every person you were hanging out with? What the hell?”

Hobie sighed, leaning against a shelf behind him. “Guy needed t’ be taught a lesson. Made sure he won’t bother ya.”

“I can do that on my own!” You respond, shoving an accusing finger in his chest. “Where have you been?!”

“Thinkin’.” Is all he responds with.

You groan. “For three weeks? Shit Hobie, I..” You words fall short. You want to say it.. squeeze it out. “I.. missed you.”

Hobie’s eyes widened as he takes in your words. You.. missed him? He never would have seen this coming; a confession from the president in a dingy storage closet? Not on his bucket list.

Your eyes watch Hobie, doing that same pattern he did on the rooftop; eyes, mouth, eyes. You wanted to kiss him again.. feel those lips again on yours. No.. you needed it.

You know what? Fuck this perfect image.

You grab onto Hobie's vest, pulling him in to connect your lips. Your rough with your movements at first, closing your eyes tightly and latching onto him with a white-knuckle grip. Hobie's eyes widened for a moment before they showed a more prideful look, kissing you back with just as much emotion.

His hands find placement on your lower back, pulling you into him as the kiss escalates from one to many. Hobie was like a starved man, slotting his leg in between yours to support you, pushing you back against the shelf and knocking over some cleaning supplies.

That could be fixed later.

Your original intention of one passionate kiss to show him how you felt turned into many heated kisses. The bell for class was drowned out by how into the moment you both were.

“Fuck.. Hobie..” You whisper, diving back in for another kiss.

Hobie groaned in turn, pulling you impossibly closer. “Shit sweetheart.. can’t say m’ name like that.”

“Hmm.. why’s that..?”

“‘s gonna drive me crazy..”

Suddenly, the doorknob to the closet rattles, causing you both to pull away. Your eyes go wide as Hobie grabs it from where he stands, bringing one finger to his lips to make you stay quiet.

The person on the other side tries to open the door, but ultimately fails. They groan and mumble something before walking away. Hobie looks over at your expression, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He whispers, planting a kiss to your jaw. “Or are ya gonna keep pretendin’ you’re too good for it?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you take his hand. "Nah, not this time. Come on."

some ppl who wanted to be tagged (🫶): @serenn08 | @rksses | @youronlyauthor | @dotheyevenknowmars | @xoxobabe

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown x you #spiderman #hobie spiderverse #spider man atsv

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art · 6 months

Text

Creator Spotlight: @66sharkteeth

66 is a comic artist and the creator of City of Blank, a WEBTOON original series. They worked in the game industry at companies such as 2K Games before entering the field of comics. They began their career in comics at Tapas, where they worked as an editor and lead typesetter, before being signed to create their own original series on WEBTOON.

Check out our interview with 66 below!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

The short answer is yeah, I’ve definitely had one. Overall, I feel like doing a lot of style studies during that time and trying to use new brushes helps a lot. In addition, because I’m a comic artist, I feel like writer’s block is in the same field, and with that, I’m really fortunate that I have an editor that I can work with, who helps me a lot there. Whenever I am stuck at a plot point in my comic, I can always go to my editor, who helps me hammer things out.

What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Animation. Of course, everyone loves animation. I went to school for game art and design and even did some animation courses, and I am just not cut out for it. I don’t enjoy the process, and I am not good at it. Animation is beautiful, and I admire people who can do it. I’d love for my work to be animated some day, I’m just not capable of being the one to do it haha.

Warm tones or cool tones?

It really depends on the scene! Especially in my comic, I really go with both of them, just depending on the moment in the comic. There was a major character death, and that scene was almost black and white. But normally, the comic is very vibrant, and people really like it, so when I switch it to a more cold tone, it makes the scene that much more impactful.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

Honestly, my current comic, City of Blank, takes up 100% of my time. But recently, I did a plushie campaign where I worked with Makeship through Webtoon to design the plushies and do a little bit of marketing for them. So that’s fun and different from what I normally do!

When planning a comic or a story, what do you do first, character design or character outline?

Normally, I have a design, and I fall in love with the character design, and then I find a role for them. That’s how a lot of my characters have started. Also, that’s how I’ve been tackling new projects that I want to work on after City of Blank. I just came up with a character, and I’m trying to make a story around them.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Meeting readers and realizing how much my work means to some of them. Some of them have started their own comics, having been inspired by mine. Learning that I’m part of the reason they started their own comic journey, the same way I looked to other inspiring comic artists to start mine—it means the world that I’m in that position now.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Let’s see…bright, sparkly colors! I think just trying to make sure that the booth is eye-catching. I ended up making a big shiny banner for New York Comic Con, and I know many people stopped by because it caught their eye and they’re curious about what it is. I know a lot of people are selling merchandise of popular media. Even just a banner of your brand to get them curious about who you are and maybe interested in seeing what you make and taking a business card so they can look you up later. It’s better than someone just buying a pin and forgetting you exist. Lastly, put out a tip jar. You never know just how generous your fans are feeling.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

I’m mostly involved in the webtoon sphere! I am definitely inspired by my fellow Webtoon creators, @lark-wren, who created the series Woven. I love their work and seeing them interact with their readers on Tumblr. Same with fellow Webtoon creators, @miranda-mundt-art and @astrobleme-enterprises, who created Lovebot.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, 66! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @66sharkteeth and follow their webcomic, City of Blank, over at WEBTOON.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webtoon #webcomic #comic artist #66 shark teeth #city of blank

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alligatorstomachacid · 7 months

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Kinktober Day: 8

Hate sex w/Nikto. Warnings: Bottom Male!Reader, Sub Male!Reader, Top!Nikto, Dom!Nikto, Hate sex, Degradation, rough sex, spit, not proof read. !Minors DNI! Fem alined may interact but don't fetishize my content.

You and Nikto have never got along. Ever since the day you met, but you're both not sure why you don't like each other. Maybe it's because you got off on the wrong foot or there's something about the other that just irks you. It doesn't matter though, neither of you care the about reason.

You were both sent on a mission together to retrieve some intel. It would be a simple mission, the base was already empty. Completely abandoned. You were both glad it'd be a short mission. Since the mission would be easy, you started getting cocky. A trait Nikto hates, so this surely wouldn't end well.

You walk ahead of Nikto, weapon in hand. You were getting more and more bold by the minute, you were testing Nikto's patience. You finally reach the room that holds the intel you both came for. You decided to make a game out of it, Nikto wasn't interested. Of course since you were so motivated on finding that intel, you found it first. And you decided to brag about it, that would be the final straw and a mistake.

Nikto grabs your wrist and pulls you closer. His other hand grabs his jaw.

"You don't know when to quit do you?" Nitko sneers in your ear. You were speechless.

"I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson, huh?" He hisses in your ear as he backs you against the table in the center of the dim room. He cages you against the table. His hand slides down to your pants and starts to undo them. He spins you around and bends you over the table. He roughly pulls your pants down to your knees. You can hear him unbuckle the belt of his pants.

"Open your mouth." Nikto commands, and you comply. You open your mouth like he asked and he shoves two gloves fingers down your throat, causing you to gag. Once his fingers are covered in spit he pushes one into your hole causing you to groan. He pumps his finger in and out. After a few minutes he adds a second one and continues to stretch you out. You're letting out grunts and whimpers. Your gloved fingers grip onto the smooth surface of the metal table.

You hear Nikto grunt in satisfaction and you feel him pull his fingers out. You then feel something poke at your entrance. He then starts to push himself in, earning a gutteral groan from you. A string of curses comes from your mouth. Nikto snickers a cruel snicker at the sight of you.

"What happened to all that sass? I thought you'd but up more of a fight." He says on your ear. He bottoms out then pulls out to only thrust harshly back into you. You let out a choked noise. He didn't give you any time to adjust. He starts to speed up, his pace is brutal and rough. You clench your jaw and grip onto the table. You let out a short and low gruntish scream.

You can hear Nikto's pants and grunts as he harshly thrusts into you. His hands are on both sides of your head. One thrust hits your prostate hard ripping a groan from deep your chest. Your eyes roll into the back as you whimper. Nikto speeds up his thrust, his cock dragging along your walls. You can feel him twitch inside you, he lets out one final grunt. A string of curses falls from his lips as he finishes inside of you. He pulls out then puts his cock away, redoing the his belt.

You don't know what to do other than pull up your pants, you're pretty pissed though. You didn't get to finish, so now you either have to hope your cock will calm down or you'll be able to get back fast enough to jerk off. You grab the file and you two start to leave, as you two walk through the empty halls Nikto whispers into your ear.

"If you behave I'll help you finish when we get back".

___

A/N: Sorry this is late I was busy yesterday. I will post today's prompt as well as soon as I can which may be tomorrow or very soon.

#call of duty #male reader #gay #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #cod x male reader #mwii nikto #cod nikto #nikto #nikto x reader #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #nikto cod #Nikto x male reader #bottom male reader #x bottom male reader #Top Nikto #sub male reader

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gigabyte-flare · 6 months

Text

He Comes Alive (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Your mother informs you that your father is missing and a search party is formed. You start to notice Leon's acting strange, too. In the weeks that follow, you start getting sick; it must just be stress, right?

Word Count: 5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Leon walks through the front door, glancing over at the kitchen clock as he walks through; it’s just past three in the morning. He takes a moment to toss the shirt clutched in his left hand into the washing machine. He then makes his way up the stairs, into the master bedroom and stopping in the threshold of the master bathroom, checking to make sure his angel is still asleep. He smirks upon seeing she is out like a light still; the sleeping drug he laced her drink with last night is working wonders. She was asleep by 8 last night.

Satisfied that she’s asleep, he walks into the bathroom, softly closing the door and turning on the light, revealing that from his head to just above his hips, with the exception of one spot on his pants where he had wiped his dominant hand off, he is covered in blood. He stares at himself in the mirror, his crimson eyes dilating at the sight of her father’s blood all over him.

Leon was surprised Mick had put up quite the fight, despite being unarmed; having chased him for a couple hours before finally wearing him down; he certainly had made it fun for Leon. When he had finally gotten him cornered, Leon made sure his death was slow and agonizing, after getting his fill of blood, of course. Fish and Game is going to have a really hard time finding what’s left of Mick.

Leon turns around, turning the shower on and letting it warm up, taking a moment to take off the rest of his clothing before stepping into the shower to clean himself up. After getting all the blood off and ensuring the shower is clean, he steps out, putting on a pair of sweatpants and retracing his steps to ensure he didn’t drip or get blood on anything. Once he’s satisfied that he left no trace of blood behind, he returns to the master bedroom, to his sleeping angel.

Upon entering the bedroom, he stands at the foot of the bed for a moment, admiring her sleeping form. He leans down, gently pulling the comforter off her. She’s lying on her back, wearing a thin white tank top and light pink underwear with lace on the hem, having a small pink bow in the middle. Leon can’t help but think how perfect that is. Beneath that little bow, he can sense that his seed is growing inside her; the larvae having successfully attached itself to the embryo.

Overcome with emotion, Leon gingerly climbs onto her, placing his lips onto her lower stomach and giving tender kisses as his hands rub up and down the sides of her thighs and hips. She stirs in her sleep, letting out a soft groan as she begins to awaken.

“Leon…? Your hair’s wet, did you take a shower?”

Leon lifts his head, giving her a gentle smile, “I did, I couldn’t sleep. Good morning, angel.”

He crawls over her before kissing her deeply, his fingers running through her hair as he slips his tongue into her mouth. She reciprocates without any hesitation, her arms draping around his shoulders to pull him closer. He brings his hand between their bodies, his fingers sliding across the soft fabric of her underwear, finding her clit and rubbing gentle circles into it, eliciting a soft moan from her as they continue to kiss.

The sound of the phone ringing downstairs instantly ruins the moment, Leon letting out a frustrated sigh as he glances over at the clock on the bedside table. It reads 5:42am.

“Let me get that, must be important if someone’s calling at this hour,” Leon says as he crawls off his angel.

He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen, picking up the phone off the receiver, “hello?”

“Leon, it’s Sandi. I’m so sorry for calling this early. Is my daughter around?”

“It’s no trouble at all, no need to apologize,” he says before holding the phone away from his mouth to call out, “angel! It’s your mom!”

“I’m coming!” he hears her reply.

He listens intently at the soft sounds of her bare feet coming down the stairs. She comes into the kitchen, taking the phone from Leon.

“Hey Mom, what’s going on?” she asks.

Leon doesn’t need to hear what Sandi is saying to her, he knows exactly what she’s calling about. He watches as her face slowly transforms, filled with worry.

“No, neither of us have heard from Dad, why?”

Another pause, the worry on her face is then consumed by complete distress.

“What do you mean Dad’s missing?! Have you reported this to the police yet?”

It takes everything in Leon to not smile as an overwhelming sense of dominance and pride fills him, his eyes locked on his angel as she continues to talk on the phone.

“Alright, please keep us posted. If you need us, we’ll be there in a heartbeat. Take care Mom.”

She puts the phone on the receiver, letting out a heavy sigh.

“What was that all about, everything ok?” Leon asks, feigning concern.

She looks at him, “Mom woke up this morning and Dad wasn’t in bed. She thought maybe he had just fallen asleep in the recliner but when she went down to check, the TV was on but he was nowhere to be found.”

“Where the hell could he have gone?” Leon asks, shaking his head.

“That’s the weird part, I have no idea, unless…” he watches as she consumes herself in thought for a moment before continuing, “oh god… you don’t think he tried to go after the B.O.W. himself, do you?”

To be honest, Leon is impressed that she came to that conclusion, but knowing how much her father wanted to get Leon out of the picture, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Still, her intellect just confirms to him that he picked the perfect mate, the perfect mother to his offspring.

Leon furrows his brows, rubbing them with his fingers before replying, “shit…”

She grabs the phone again, dialing her parents’ house.

“Mom it’s me, have you called the police to report Dad missing yet? I… I think I know where he went…”

You, your mother and Leon sit at your parents’ dining room in complete silence. Upon your arrival there, Chief Bob and several members of New Hampshire Fish and Game were there with your mother; you had let them know to search the woods behind the fairgrounds, suspecting that your father had gone out to take care of the B.O.W. himself. Or rather, as you told the officers, ‘the animal.’

What impresses you is how calm Leon is. There’s almost a strange aura of serenity surrounding him and it’s clearly having an effect on both you and your mother.

“Of course Mick would do something so stupid,” your mother says, breaking the silence as she stands up from the table, going over to the kitchen sink to do up the dishes from the impromptu breakfast she had made the three of you.

Leon then abruptly gets up, following your mother over to the sink, “Sandi, let me do these for you. You have enough to worry about right now.”

You watch as Leon gently moves your mother away from the sink, gesturing her to sit back down at the table, clearly not taking no for an answer. Your mother simply nods, sitting back down next to you as Leon begins washing the dishes.

“What was Mick hoping to accomplish, going out on his own like that?” Sandi asks as she sits back down next to you at the table, “he’s heard about what this animal has done to people!”

“I have no idea…” you lie.

But you do have an idea. Knowing your father, he wanted Leon out of the picture in any possible way he could get him out. No B.O.W.? No Leon. Mick’s dilemma was solved in his mind. A sudden knock at the door rips you from your thoughts and you watch as your mother immediately gets up to answer the door. You get up and follow her.

On the other side is Chief Bob and judging by the look on his face, he isn’t the bearer of good news; he clears his throat before he speaks, “we found… evidence of a struggle and this.”

Chief Bob lifts his clenched hand, opening it to reveal a ring caked in blood. You could recognize that plain titanium wedding band anywhere; it is your father’s.

“Sandi I’m so sorry… it’s likely that your husband is dead.”

The wailing sound your mother then begins to make is almost inhuman. She takes the ring from Chief Bob’s palm, clutching it in her own hands and falling to her knees. You feel tears form in your own eyes as well. Yeah, your father was a pain in the ass, yeah he was hard on you, but it was never from a place of malice. He always wanted what was best for you, being his only child.

You get on your knees, wrapping your arms around your mother in an attempt to comfort her. It’s then that the reality of your father being gone sinks in and you join your mother in sobbing. You look up to Leon, who’s still standing at the kitchen sink. You open your mouth to speak but you cut yourself short when you see Leon was looking at you, adverting his gaze away and back to the dishes. That in itself was strange, however what you had seen on his face unsettles you.

He had been smiling.

In the weeks that follow after your father’s death, you do everything in your power to distract yourself; not only of the fact that your father is gone but of Leon’s strange behavior that day. You try to brush it off as maybe his nerves getting the better of him, after all, everyone deals with grief and traumatic events differently. But the more you try not to think about it, the more you realize that each time another body had turned up, Leon was always weirdly calm.

Was your father right about him? Is he somehow involved?

“Don’t be stupid,” you say to yourself quietly as you climb out of bed to go into the bathroom, “he’s a government agent, he’s probably trained to be calm…”

You can hear Leon working in the living room downstairs as you go into the bathroom. A sudden wave of nausea had come over you, as it had the past few mornings. You close the bathroom door and barely make it to the sink when you retch up the contents of your stomach; granted it hadn’t been much. Your arms tremble as you prop yourself over the bathroom sink; at this point you’re dry heaving, your stomach in literal knots. After a few minutes, the nausea passes. You try to wrap your head around what has been making you sick the last few mornings, not recalling eating something that would make you this violently ill. One thought suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks: pregnancy.

It’s been a few weeks since that night when you came home from the Harvest Festival; when Leon had fucked you in this very spot and came in you. Your blood runs cold at the realization. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you go back into the bedroom and get dressed. You decide to go to the store, buy some pregnancy tests just to be sure. It could be something totally unrelated; how often do people get pregnant after having unprotected sex just once, right? You recall your parent’s had struggled to have you.

Once dressed, you head downstairs, smiling at Leon as you walk past him working, “Leon I’m going to head to the store real quick, I’ll be back.”

Leon stops what he’s working on, turning to you, “Oh? I’ll go with you,” he says as he puts down his tools.

You feel the color leave your face as you internally panic, “No Leon it’s fine! I don’t want to distract you from your work. I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

Leon’s eyes are locked on you as you figure he’s contemplating letting you go alone or not. You internally let out a sigh of relief when he picks his tools back up to continue working.

“Alright, but come right back, ok?” he says, focusing his attention back to what he was working on.

“I will,” you say, not wasting time walking into the kitchen to grab your purse and your jacket.

You go outside, the chill November air going straight to your bones despite having a jacket on. You climb into your car, turning the ignition. As soon as the car revs to life, you drive off.

You decide to go to the grocery store in Plymouth, not wanting to risk bumping into anyone you knew while buying pregnancy tests. Plus, it felt good to go for a ride alone; a chance to go through your thoughts and feelings.

Why hadn’t you made him pull out that night? Why had you been so completely lost in the moment? The words he growled into your ear that night were very much etched in your mind. Even so, would he even want a baby with you? Do you even want a baby?

You shake your head, doing your best to convince yourself you’re not pregnant and the sickness was just from all the stress; that the pregnancy tests were just a precaution, something to ease your mind. You pull your car into the grocery store, heading in and picking up some snacks so that you weren’t just buying the tests.

You go into the feminine hygiene aisle, locating the pregnancy tests. There were several brands, so you decide to pick a couple different ones, putting them into your cart and going to the check out to purchase everything. You feel like everyone’s eyes are on you as you go up to the cash register, even the cashier seems to give you a weird look as they ring up the pregnancy tests. You do your best not to make eye contact as you pay for your things and leave.

You drive back to Leon’s house, making sure the tests were buried beneath the snacks in the grocery bags as you walk inside.

“Leon I’m back!” you call out as you walk into the living room to go up the stairs.

You watch as Leon again stops what he’s doing, smiling over at you as you ascend the stairs, “welcome back, angel. Did you buy anything good?”

You swallow hard, stopping mid-way up the stairs and turn to him, “I got us some snacks, want some?”

“Sure!” Leon replies with a smile.

You pull out a bag of Doritos, tossing them gently to him, watching as he catches the bag with ease, “there you are, don’t eat the whole thing.”

Leon chuckles and gives you a playful wink before returning his focus to his work. You let out a sigh of relief, going back up the stairs to go into the bathroom. Upon entering, you quickly close the bathroom door and lock it, setting the grocery bag onto the bathroom counter, fishing the pregnancy tests out.

The actual tests proved to be more complicated than you ever imagined, requiring you to somehow get it so that you pee on them; easier said than done. After a few minutes of struggling, you manage to use all the tests you got, setting them face down onto the bathroom counter to process. You clean yourself up and sit on the toilet seat to anxiously wait.

After what seems like an eternity, you reluctantly stand up and walk over to the bathroom counter, you flip each test over, one by one. Each of them has the same result: Positive.

In that moment, every single swear word runs through your mind. Your eyes widen and your heart races. What if Leon gets mad? Are you even ready to raise a child? What will your mother think? What will the town think? Getting pregnant out of wedlock isn’t as uncommon as it used to be, but Oakvale is still a fairly religious community; you fear the worst.

You gather up the tests in your hand, opening the bathroom door to go back downstairs. When you reach the bottom, you simply stop and watch Leon work, your hand holding the tests trembling as you try to think of what to say to him.

As if sensing your presence, Leon once again stops, turning to you and seeing your pained expression, “angel, what’s wrong?”

“I…” you begin, a sob catching your voice as fear completely envelopes you, “I think I’m pregnant…”

You watch Leon’s mouth hang open for a second before a smile consumes it, “really?!”

Much to your surprise, Leon drops everything, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, his face burying itself in your hair and placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. He steps back, seeing the tests clutched in your hand. He takes them from you, looking at each, seeing how all of them say positive for pregnancy.

“You’re… not mad?” you ask, your voice still trembling.

“Why on Earth would I be mad?”

You shake your head, relief flooding over you now that you know Leon seems to be thrilled with the news.

“We can turn the spare bedroom into a nursery! Wait until we tell your Mom, she’s going to be so happy to have some good news for a change!”

“Th…Thanksgiving is in a few days, we should tell her then!” you say, your worry being replaced by enthusiasm.

You feel so much better now knowing that Leon’s not angry and clearly wants a family with you. The morning of Thanksgiving arrives and you and Leon are working on a green bean casserole to bring over to your mother’s house. Once that’s made up, you and Leon get it packed up in his Jeep and waste no time driving to your parents’ house.

Once there, your mother greets you enthusiastically, you can hear some of your extended family members already inside. You place the warm casserole by the other dishes before taking a seat at the dining table. Leon wastes no time getting to know your family, seated at the table is your uncle Dennis, who’s married to your Mom’s sister Donna, who’s helping your Mom with the turkey in the kitchen and your other aunt and uncle on your Dad’s side: Joel and his wife Marlene with their two young kids Adam and Mary-Ann, who are seated at a ‘kids table’ off to the side of the dining room.

Leon didn’t tell your family much about himself, giving them the same retired government agent story he had told you and your parents when you first met him. You remain quiet, becoming a bundle of nerves as the day wears on, scared of how your family is going to react to your pregnancy. Your Mom and your aunt coming in with the turkey snaps you out of your nervous thoughts and you take the opportunity to stand up and help them bring all the other food into the dining room.

You watch as Marlene helps her two children get their food, which isn't much because they are ridiculously picky. You on the other hand take a little bit of almost everything, especially the green bean casserole since that’s your favorite. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon doesn’t take that much either; mostly the dark meat of the turkey, potatoes and some stuffing.

Once everyone has their food, everyone at the ‘adults’ table engages in mindless small talk, meanwhile your focus is on eating and making sure you don’t throw up from your nerves. After a while, you hear Leon clear his throat to get everyone’s attention, putting a huge pit into your stomach.

“So… we have something really exciting to tell everyone,” Leon begins, placing his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it in small circles; he looks over to you, giving you a soft smile, “do you want to tell them the good news?”

You take a deep breath before giving him a slight nod; when you speak, your voice is just above a whisper, “I’m… um… we’re…”

At this point, everyone is staring at you. You feel yourself freeze up, your mind racing and your heart pounding.

“It’s alright, I’m right here,” you hear Leon encourage as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Sorry…” you say, swallowing hard, “we’re expecting…”

You watch your aunt Donna blink a few times before widening her eyes, “I’m sorry… you’re what?”

“I’m… I’m pregnant.” you finally say, cutting to the chase.

Your uncle Dennis practically spits out the beer he had been sipping on and your uncle Joel nearly chokes on the food he was eating. Your mother simply stares at you, seemingly dumbfounded. You immediately feel embarrassed.

“Was this… intentional?” your aunt Marlene asks, the concern evident in her voice.

“Well, no--”

“Yes. We love each other so much, so we’re very eager to start a family together, isn’t that right angel?” Leon says, cutting you off as he looks over to you, smiling and rubbing your back.

You look at him for a second, raising an eyebrow. The realization that his every intention that night after coming home from the festival was to get you pregnant sends chills through your entire body. You didn’t know how to feel about that at all.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you nod, addressing your family, “yes, it just felt right to start a family together. With all the sadness lately, we thought bringing a new life into the world would raise our family’s spirits.”

Your Mom then smiles, a single tear running down her cheek, “honey that’s wonderful news. When are you due?”

“We figured out it's around the end of July, give or take," Leon replies, a proud smirk spreading across his lips.

The mood in the room immediately shifts, your family now seemingly excited for you and Leon. Everyone is throwing out name suggestions, making bets on whether it’ll be a boy or a girl. All the while, you can’t seem to shake the uneasiness growing inside you. You unconsciously place a hand on your lower stomach. After a moment, you flinch your hand away, surprise overwhelming you.

You felt it move, that’s not possible, right?

The weeks that follow feel like a blur. When Christmas comes around, you and Leon are overwhelmed with gifts for the baby: clothes, toys and even furniture for the nursery. With each day, your pregnancy is beginning to show more and more, so much so that you had to go out and buy new clothes. Sleeping is also becoming a challenge, as you can’t seem to find a comfortable position with your swollen belly.

It’s New Year’s Eve and you are awoken to Leon touching, kissing and talking to your belly. It’s his daily ritual now. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you smile when you see Leon kissing and rubbing your belly. You would even say that Leon is more excited about this baby than you are, not that you’re not, of course. The baby always seems to react to him, becoming especially mobile in your belly when he talks to it, but you knew that had to be a coincidence. He notices you awake, propping himself on top of you and crawling up to you, kissing you deeply.

“How’s my favorite Momma doing?” he asks before kissing along your jawline.

“Very tired,” you admit, shifting yourself so that you’re sitting up in bed, “this big belly makes it hard to get comfortable.”

Leon sits down on the bed next to you, his concern written on his face as he caresses your belly with the back of his fingers, “I know. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. Our little one is growing like a weed.”

“I wasn’t expecting my belly to get this big so soon, everyone in town thinks we’re having twins,” you reply with a laugh as you rub your belly.

Leon lets out a chuckle, “we’re definitely not. Just one very healthy baby.”

Leon’s hand moves from your belly, across your thigh and settling between your legs, his fingers caressing your clit through your underwear. A soft gasp escapes you, your legs unconsciously spreading open as you lean your head back against the headboard of the bed.

“That’s it, angel, make yourself comfortable. I’ll take care of you,” Leon coos as his fingers push your underwear aside, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your leaking hole with ease as his thumb continues to rub your throbbing clit.

His fingers caress your g-spot just right every time, causing you to arch your back and let out soft moans as you close your eyes, enjoying the moment. You feel his hand gently grasp one of your breasts, wincing a moment as they had become extremely sensitive since you had fallen pregnant. With each thrust of his fingers you are brought closer to your release, your fingers gripping onto the sheets in the bed as your legs begin to tremble.

Then, Leon pushes his fingers as deep inside you as he possibly can, causing you to cry out as you come all over his fingers. Leon rests his head on your shoulder as he gently massages your breast, pulling his fingers out but still rubbing gentle circles into your clit.

“Such a good Momma you are,” he praises, kissing the crook of your neck as he starts to pull down his sweatpants.

A loud banging on the front door interrupts him; he lets out an audible growl in annoyance. He waits a moment, hoping the person would go away, but the banging resumes, making the whole house shake.

“Better see who that is,” Leon says, his tone flat as he climbs out of the bed.

As Leon makes his way downstairs, you decide to get up and throw some clothes on yourself, grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and one of Leon’s t-shirts to put on.

“What the fuck?!” you hear Leon shout, followed by what sounds like a struggle.

“Leon!” you call out, rushing yourself down the stairs to the front door.

What greets you outside is like something out of a movie. Several armored trucks are in the driveway, men with guns and full tactical gear surround the house. One of the men has Leon pinned onto the ground, seemingly injecting some kind of liquid into his neck.

“What are you doing to him?!” you cry out, bursting out the front door to come to Leon’s aid, “stop it!”

As soon as you’re outside, two men grab each of your arms, holding you back. Looking around, you also see that there are large light panels on the armored trucks, emitting a strange, purple light, piercing the darkness of the early morning.

“Ma’am you need to come with us, it’s not safe here,” one of the men commands.

“What on Earth are you talking about?! Let me go!” you protest, desperately trying to pull yourself away from the men's grasp.

“We’re gonna have to tranq her,” you hear the other man say.

“Let me go! I’m fucking pregnan--!”

You feel something pierce your neck and in that next moment, the whole world is spinning, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lose consciousness.

You awake to the most massive headache you have ever experienced in your life, your eyes open and promptly closing when you find you’re laying in a bed in a completely white room with bright, blinding lights. You slowly sit up, rubbing your neck where you had gotten injected with the tranquilizer; it’s very sore and tender there. You look around at your surroundings. The walls are covered in a white padding, much like you’d find at a mental hospital with what you assume is a locked door on the other side. After a few minutes, a man with a white lab coat comes into the room, stating your name with a questioning inflection in his voice.

“Yeah…” you reply, your voice still groggy from having been drugged, “that’s me.”

“Come with me, the director would like to see you.”

The man helps you stand up, holding you gently by the arm as he leads you out of the room. Going down a hallway, he then turns and brings you into another room, this one has the same white walls, but this time there is a table with two chairs on either side. The man sits you down in the chair farthest from the door.

“The director will be with you shortly,” the man says before leaving the room, the door audibly locking upon his exit.

You wrap your arms around yourself, pinching your arm to make sure you’re not dreaming. Your thoughts are immediately on Leon, wondering where he is and hoping that he’s ok. You then focus your attention on your belly, rubbing it softly, hoping the tranquilizer didn’t hurt your baby. The sound of the door unlocking breaks you out of your thoughts and you look up to the door and watch a different man wearing a dark green jacket with salt and pepper dark hair walk in. He reminds you of the character Columbo, the bumbling detective from a murder mystery show that your mother enjoyed watching when you were growing up.

The man walks up to the opposite chair, pulling it out before taking a seat, “my name is Clive R. O’Brian and I imagine you have a lot of questions for me.”

Part 7

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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cno-inbminor · 1 year

Text

repertum (pt. 2 - final)

summary: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise. // cameos from lumine and nahida // wc: ~15.1k

a/n: well, here it is! many, many thanks to @allsaiint for being my beta once again, especially for this monster. i love her to the ends of this universe. fair warning though, the smut at the end is un-beta’d so you’ll probably come across many grammatical/syntax errors. sorry, in advance.

cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, more angst (but with comfort), 3.4 spoilers, probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics, smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

smut tags: derogatory/degrading terms (slut, cocksleeve, cumslut, cockslut), referring to alhaitham as ‘sir’, size kink, twinges of dacryphilia, one (1) pussy slap, some overstimulation, light bondage (reader’s wrists get tied together), blowjob, cunnilingus, hints of reader entering subspace (dom!alhaitham, sub!reader), will add more if i remember later but i think those are the highlights lol

please read part 1 for context! | AO3 Link for better viewing if the app is being a bitch

As agreed upon you meet Lumine and Paimon on the walkway leading up to the Sanctuary. The traveling duo go inside first, as you’re sure they have much more private and serious matters to discuss. While you wait outside, you gaze over the ledge at the breathtaking view of Sumeru in the direction of the Lokapala Jungle, and its waterfalls still bright even in the darkness of dawn. Taking in everything around you— the breeze and the stars— you feel some peace in your heart knowing you have a place to call home and return to.

The doors swing open with Lumine looking a little less happy than earlier. Paimon mutters – or at least attempts to – under her breath, while a man with a wide-brimmed hat trails out after them. The traveler provides no explanation,and instead informs you that Lord Kusanali wishes to speak with you for a minute. Perhaps the time together will let you know more about this mysterious man – child? – and why he seems to have put Paimon in such a bad mood.

“Y/N,” the Dendro Archon greets you warmly. Her voice is gentle as ever and full of compassion. “Thank you for coming here. I simply wanted to see if you had everything you needed for your travels and research.”

You show her your bag with thinly-veiled enthusiasm. “Thank you for the opportunity and your consideration of my proposal. The fact that you took the time to read through it and ask me about it really means a lot to me. It was luck that the traveler happened to be heading in that direction as well.”

“She will be a good companion. Please watch over her whenever you can.”

“Of course, though I imagine she’s going to watch over me more than her,” you jest and Lord Kusanali shares your amusement. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No. May you have safe travels, and please visit whenever you return. I look forward to your findings.”

You bow with as much reverence as possible before waving goodbye to the Archon and heading out the doors. The man from earlier is nowhere to be seen, and Lumine appears more relaxed.

“Everything all good?”

“Yes! Should we head out then?”

“Very well.”

Those with Visions have always fascinated you with the way they could make their weapons appear and disappear, and materialize things in midair. Lumine does so with what appears to be a map of Teyvat, humming to herself as she pinpoints a location. She waves it away with dainty fingers and holds out her hand.

Though confused, you trust she means no ill will and Lumine grips your hand tight when you take hers.

“Teleportation is always a little rough for first timers. Just hold on and you’ll be okay.”

“Teleporta–”

You disappear in a flash of blue light. For a split, disorienting second, you see nothing, and in the next you’re greeted with a view of what appears to be part of the Mawtiyima Forest, if the luminescent treetops are any indication. Slight nausea overcomes you and your stomach does a small turn – shit, she wasn’t lying.

“Are you alright?” Lumine asks with concern, searching through her pack for a remedy..

“Do you want a cold towel?” Paimon adds on and flutters around you to search for any signs of injury.

“I think I just need to breathe for a second,” you say, collapsing against the cliffside. “And sit for a minute.”

“Take your time. We’re quite close to the border. I would’ve taken us straight into Fontaine, but since I’ve never been before, none of those teleport waypoints have been activated.”

You point towards one in front of you. “You mean these?”

“Convenient, right?”

“...very.”

Distraught, perhaps, is one way to describe Alhaitham’s current state of mind.

By all means, it makes no sense. Did he get to know you well in an alarmingly short amount of time? Sure. Did he really look forward to those initial 36 hours passing, to the point where he felt time was crawling by at a turtle’s pace? Perhaps. Was he trying to satiate a curiosity that he had never really felt before and attempting to answer a personal unknown? In some way.

The attempting-to-resign Acting Grand Sage has read his fair share of historical texts – especially conflicts driven by love and lust. A force so powerful that it could twist the minds of even the brightest and most logical – what was that like? From a young age, he was only ever introspective in an academic sense, and the scholars touted him to be a genius. But feelings, emotions, felt abstract and out of reach as he grew up. He only ever understood his lust as a byproduct of his development as explained in the textbooks. A branch of psychology mixed with biology described everything from why humans feel attraction and the need to copulate to what is deemed healthy and alluring in a potential partner, all in the name of posterity and evolution.

Alhaitham first concluded his initial draw towards you could be explained away by all of these findings.It didn’t quite fit all the checkboxes, but enough for him to deem it understandable and valid. Those checkboxes had been visited once before when he lost his virginity, but that was all there was to it. He wouldn’t be blind enough to deny that it was a pleasurable experience, but there were other, more pressing matters at hand. Yet, even after drawing his conclusion, nothing academic could help explain why his desire to be near you was so strong. The more carnal desires took a backseat to his need to pick your brain, to make you laugh, or to have you challenge him. He learned as many of your little mannerisms as possible, all the while pretending he was completely unfazed by your presence. Your different smiles, your nervous movements, your stressed looks, your interests and dislikes – he wanted to know all of them, and not so he could store it in his brain for cautionary purposes. It was all for the sake of getting to know you.

And then he became greedy.

Another sin Alhaitham didn’t quite understand before meeting you was the growing, bubbling pit of a constant want want want for you to be by his side. To have the fantasies of coveting your soul, retching on the inside at the mere thought of others seeing you the way he did you – he was starting to see why individuals were so often thrown into a fit of rage over their loved ones and why the law has separate stipulations regarding “crimes of passion.”

And even as he sits at his usual table in his usual seat (especially on days when he really doesn’t want to be in his office during work hours), sending glares to anyone who dared to approach him or even come near your seat (which was very much not your seat by any legal means), he finds himself buried in books of philosophy. Not that they are so far out of his usual reading, for they typically align with his understanding that there are universal questions that will never be answered yet should be stated, but he has never felt the need to dive deeper than the tip of the iceberg on different schools of thought. One line in particular catches his attention, however.

“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions.”**

Moral philosophy, the area where this statement hails from, was intriguing, yet Alhaitham knew the respected experts could talk in circles for days and do their best to argue their reasoning. This particular philosopher suggests that passion is the cause for reason, for understanding why humans do the things they do. And as the word connotation suggests, there is no room to discuss whether or not this line of thought is rational. Just as passion drives reason, reason can also serve as the breeding ground for the passions.

Abstruse to several, esoteric to many, ambiguous to the masses – Alhaitham wonders if he’s found some sort of solution to his internal dilemmas. To have it all summed up in a single sentence resonates deeply with him. Simple and succinct, yet speaking volumes to the implications; finally with a deep breath.

The next day in his office, he leans and falls back into his seat, gaze focused on the domed ceiling above. He’s always hated this chair; far too grand and impractically large. One thing he doesn’t mind is the proportionate size of the desk, as he’s learned over the years that if you give him the space, he will inadvertently cover every inch of it with his materials. Even with their dwindling number of research applications, he manages to fill the voids with his own research, books laid open and aged parchment collecting dust. For being so far above the ground level of the House of Daena, it makes sense that silence is usually his sole companion, as he tends to ignore the other researchers and matra milling around. But there must have been some memo sent out because no one is there today, and no one has come up in hours.

Surprisingly, he finds the quietude and quiescence unnerving rather than welcoming, so much so he removes his treasured earpieces and places them in his lap. The white noise he’s often found bothersome is… comforting?

A distraction, perhaps, from the absence of you.

A long, heavy sigh leaves his chest as he pulls himself up and ambles over to a locked filing cabinet with all the approved research project applications. Before he became Acting Grand Sage, the remaining applications had been split between him, Lord Kusanali, and a few other individuals. First sorted by subject area and then by last name, he rifles through with an absent mind until he catches your name on a tabbed folder. Alhaitham wastes no time plucking it from the confines of the drawer and opening it, taking care to make sure the stacks of reports and research diagrams don’t spill out onto the floor. Kaveh would have a field day if he knew just how enraptured he was by the mere sight of your handwriting. He may even take him to Lord Kusanali herself for psychological treatment or interrogation because there was no way this Alhaitham was his same sarcastic, scathing, infuriating roommate – and despite the slight amusement the thought gives him, he cannot ignore the painful pull in his chest.

It’s been five weeks since you were last seen in Sumeru, and five weeks since he had knocked on your apartment door only to be greeted by your next-door neighbor, who announced you’d left early in the morning with no definitive time of return and no mention of your destination. You would be back eventually, but would it be in six days or six months? Nobody seemed to be the wiser.

He had had half a mind to reach out to Cyno and call in a special favor to track you down for his own internal peace, but he knew the request would be irrational and unnecessary. So once a week, he stops by your apartment to see if you’ve returned, and with each unsuccessful visit and your doormat collecting more and more dust, his heart sinks just a little bit lower. If he wasn’t in his current position, he’d be halfway across the desert by now (and ultimately in the complete opposite direction) under the guise of searching for ancient ruins. Merely searching for facts and truth; nothing more, nothing less.

All to say, Alhaitham wishes he had looked through this filing drawer earlier because the file on his desk contained all the answers to his questions of your whereabouts.

The relief of knowing you were safe in a nearby nation surges through every vein in his body, tension in his muscles disappearing with the rays of sunlight beating down from the stained-glass window above. He would’ve been much more concerned if you’d gone to Inazuma – even if this Captain Beidou that Lumine spoke highly of was more than adept at crossing the treacherous seas from Liyue, the mere possibility of you falling overboard or being forced to stay in the nation was still unsettling, to say the least.

Leaning his weight onto the desk, Alhaitham drinks in everything your research has to offer. There are a few mistakes and edits that could be rectified here and there, but nevertheless, it is well done. He remembers now seeing some of these papers before, as notes you had been scribbling down on some early afternoons in the cafe. Pleased isn’t enough to describe the hum in his chest when he notices some of his suggestions incorporated into your application, fondly recalling the moments when you had picked each other’s brain regarding the topic at hand. Never once did you mention that any of this had been in preparation for your big research journey, but he would be remiss not to believe recent events had served as the catalyst for your sudden departure.

“Do come back to me,” he murmurs to no one. As he lifts his head, the cosmical, automated orb— reminiscent of an Auspicious Branch— just above the elevator platform seems to mock him. It’s An inaccurate teller of time as it spins and spins in its orbit, and Alhaitham yearns for the day you return home.--

The day you return to him.

Traveling with Lumine is fascinating, to say the least.

Ignoring the fact that feeding Paimon is like feeding three grown adults, watching the Traveler gather and store every fruit and herb and loot in sight makes you wonder what kind of life she had led before all of this. The way she takes down some wayward Treasure Hoarders is a sight to see, like a well-rehearsed dance. It lends to your understanding of why the term is “martial arts” because the way Lumine maneuvers around the enemies and her sword is, very much so, an art.

But more time together means more time into probing the real reason you’ve decided to come to Fontaine with her, and for whatever reason, she is really good at getting you to spill the beans. Lumine’s heard most of your life story at this point.

“Who are you running from?” she asks one night. After checking in with the Adventurer’s Guild in Fontaine’s capital, you’ve joined Lumine in her journey around the nation to activate the rest of the teleport waypoints. You send her your sheepest look, begging with your eyes for her to not ask anymore. But you’ve skirted around this topic the last few weeks and you figure it’s time for her to know.

With a heavy breath, you set down your bowl of biryani on the grass. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“Promise.”

“...it’s Alhaitham.” The crackling of the little campfire Lumine had put together is deafening, even louder than the ripples and waves of the river crashing onto the sand in front of them.

Naturally, Paimon speaks up first, though speaking is an understatement. “Alhaitham?! You mean that– that super mean Acting Grand Sage? The know-it-all? Can’t really care less about others? Condescending?”

“That’s a pretty big word there, Paimon–” Lumine cuts in.

“Hey!”

“See?” you respond, the smile on your face small, awkward, and bittersweet. “Things happened and well… I thought it’d be better if we stopped seeing each other.”

“You were seeing each other?!!”

“Paimon, stop!” Lumine interjects and shoots the floating fairy a disapproving glare.

You really wish you had some alcohol with you right now.

“Well…”

For the next several minutes, you provide a detailed summary of how you came to meet and learn more about Alhaitham, the nature of the budding relationship, how all your insecurities came to a head on that night, and how you ended up here. Lumine remains silent when you finish explaining everything, clearly thinking through all the information and trying to find the right words to say.

“You know,” she begins, “Alhaitham may be one of the most infuriatingly logical men that I’ve ever met. And a really good actor, too. Remind me to tell you the details of what he did when we rescued Nahida.”

“...I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”

“I’m just saying, but I also think you know by now that Alhaitham isn’t someone who does anything that isn’t for his own benefit, in some way.”

“Again, not helping.”

“What I’m trying to say is if he just wanted to get his dick wet, I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would agree to help out in much less time.”

To which, Lumine has a point. A very good point. But still you say, “He’s super picky though, I don’t think he’d just sleep with anyone regardless.”

“Which brings me to my original point: he picked you for a reason.”

“Because I’m easy?”

Lumine flicks your forehead before you can even blink, and with a decent amount of force as well. Your resulting indignant yelp pierces the atmosphere as you rub the sore spot. “What was that for?!”

“For being unreasonable. I’m trying to say that you must be special to him, that’s all.”

“... but what if he didn’t want to see me again after sleeping together? Sure, let’s say that I am ‘special’, heavy emphasis on my air quotes right now, but I want more, an actual relationship. How do I know that’s also what his end goal is?”

“You don’t,” Lumine affirms. “But there’s no use in wading through the what-ifs. You know what you want, and I think you’re allowed to communicate that to him, regardless of what he says.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the underlying implication that you’re being something of a coward, with not a whole lot of reason to be. You’re grateful for the open water before you, its lullaby comforting with the breeze it brings. Years of academic research have made you painfully familiar with the concept of trial and error, but to apply it to human relationships? It leaves much to be undesired. Five weeks, in the grand scheme of things, are certainly nothing more than a miniscule blip of time. But in your limited life with the overhanging unknowns of the world, it was a sizable enough amount of time filled with passive rumination and downward spirals.

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. But I’m warning you, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

You can’t help but laugh in relief. “That is completely okay, I promise you.”

Running away might as well be your newly developed skill at this point.

A few weeks later

“I mean, I could stay with you there in Fontaine, right? You know, extra set of hands and all?”

“You’re not getting out of this.”

“Lumiiinneee,” you whine, petulant pout making itself known.

“Just talk to him – whatever happens, happens. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not meant to be. But you owe it to yourself to say your piece, as well as to him for an explanation that he needs to hear. Now go.”

She all but (gently) shoves you into the Akademiya, watching over you with an encouraging wave of her hand. When you’re less than five steps away from the door into the House of Daena, you look over your shoulder once more for any signs of escape. As expected, the Lumine-shaped obstacle stands firm in her spot.

You clutch your final report to your chest, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, and don’t even realize you’ve already made it to the elevator platform. And once it gives a mechanical shudder and starts to go up, you want to scream and simultaneously steal a glider to jump off and land safely back on the ground level.

Is it good or bad luck that no one seems to be around? Maybe he won’t be at his desk and you can just leave the report there and fucking bolt. Maybe it’s not even Alhaitham in the Grand Sage’s chair. Maybe the man is gone altogether and is somewhere in the desert looking at ancient runes.

Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore and has forgotten about you. Maybe he told himself to let bygones be bygones, and that you were simply another scholar in the Akademiya. No one special.

Your initial hopes of his coincidental absence are dashed as you walk up the stairs. His silver hair stands out among the sea of azure and viridian, and he doesn’t even bother to look up from the stack of papers in his hand. Not that you were a bull in a china shop by any means, but the man would even notice with his eyes closed if there was a fly on the complete opposite side of the office. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest with each shaky step, and too soon, you stand in front of his sprawling desk.

“My office hours will be ending in a few minutes,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone without looking at you. You risk a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice, an all too familiar mix of gentility and sternness. “If it’s something that requires more than that length of time, come back tomorrow.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck – “I’m just, um, turning in a research report?”

At the sound of your voice, Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to amuse himself. He’d much rather not look and not be disappointed, than to do so and become reacquainted with dashed hopes. “...And the necessary cover sheet is on top? Does it have your name, project number, and corresponding title?”

“Y-Yes.”

Still perusing through the paperwork in his hands, he frees one hand to point it at a basket on his far-right corner. “Leave it there. Your advisors and I will be reviewing it within the next two weeks.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You do as instructed, but with each second that passes without any eye contact or direct acknowledgement of your presence, you begin to wonder if he’s purposely ignoring you. Or maybe he forgot about you entirely and wrote you off as a failed pursuit. Perhaps that would be the best-case scenario and you could hole up in your apartment for the rest of… eternity. Maybe. Lumine can come and scold you later and you can take it like a champ.

But your heart, ever so fickle and occasionally diabolical, plays one last card and causes you to stop at the top of the stairs. “Have a good night,” you muster out. “Thank you, Alhaitham.”

The rustling of his papers ceases as you turn and hurry down the steps, taking extra care to not trip over your feet. Just before you can activate the elevator, a frazzled “Y/N?” is called from above. With sweaty hands, a sullen heart, and a leadened brain, you nervously orient towards the scholar inhabiting your dreams, who stands on the edge of the platform above and peers down to confirm his suspicion. His stance looks as if he had leapt over his desk and sprinted at top speed towards you.

You’re not sure how to take it all in, how to take him in – the “feeble scholar”, for once, appears as such. If possible, his cheeks seem a little more sunken in, further accentuating the sharp edges of his jawline. His hair looks mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it several times too many. The cloak around his shoulders rests askew from his sudden movements.

But his eyes—

Those seafoam irises and amber pupils pierce through your soul, but not in an inquisitive and calculating manner. In fact, it’s quite the opposite – he looks unsure, disbelieving, and hesitant. To elicit such a reaction from this man should be recorded in the most prominent historical annals, but you do have to admit it’s a bad look on him.

When you open your mouth to say something, anything, the elevator begins its descent. Any words you had are wiped from your mind, and you do everything you can to maintain this staredown. Weeks ago, you couldn’t even begin to guess what this man would be feeling based on his eyes, but now? His heart is on his sleeve, and you can’t help the green envy in your veins at the possibility that others have seen him in such a vulnerable state.The constant battle between an illusional desire to be his everything and knowing that you never could and never should be, rages on.

You’re the first to look away. Sorry, Lumine, you think, as Alhaitham’s figure disappears from view. All you’re left with is the rotating orb above, spinning and spinning until it makes you sick to your stomach. You just want to get back to your apartment and start sweeping the dirt away, to return to some sense of normalcy before all of… this appeared. You never should’ve indulged in your whimsical desires.

Alhaitham hovers in a state of shock as he watches the elevator take you back down – after weeks of catching a glimpse of who he thinks is you at the cafe, hearing your voice in his head as he scribbles away on paperwork, or dreaming of escaping his duties to find you in Fontaine, he’s not sure if he really believes you were here or if it was some effective lucid dreaming. But the sudden pull, the impulsive need to just check the cover sheet when his name left your lips, was far too strong and he had dived right in without a second thought.

And there in your handwriting, in all its glory, was your name printed neatly at the bottom. One second, he was at his desk and the next, he was at the edge of the outer office ring for confirmation.

The last few minutes of his workday have never gone slower as he paces back and forth in front of his desk. He’s doing his best to stay calm and formulate a plan, but even that has become difficult for him. There are too many extraneous factors at play, several he can’t be sure of – did you meet someone new in Fontaine? Were you going to leave again?

Did you even want to see him?

You could’ve left without another word once your research paper landed in that return basket. He would’ve been none the wiser until he physically picked up the report, which probably wouldn’t have happened for another few days, what with all the cleaning up he’s trying to do before his resignation is official. All that lost time in between would have left him even more distraught.

But the fact that you had stopped and made a point to thank him, to call him out by name, means something. Like him, it seems you are just as unsure of where the two of you stand.

And that’s all he needs to move forward.

Granted, moving forward didn’t initially involve climbing up the fire escape ladder behind your apartment building.

With a takeout bag of your favorite foods from Lambad’s Tavern, he was originally going to knock on your front door like any other individual. But before his knuckles could rap against the Adhigama wood, he thought, why not check to see if you’re even home? That would eliminate the possibility of you seeing him through the peephole and then pretending you’re not home – or worse, you opening it and then slamming it back in his face.

His unparalleled logic led him to skip the ladder and jump onto the first floor. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to climb it with one free hand – the food would’ve gotten messy with all the jostling around. He ignores the sound of laughing children as he ambles past, but allows the semblance of a grin to dawn his face when he hears, “Whoa, look at that mister!” Alhaitham looks above him as he climbs the next set of stairs, noticing a light peeking through the living room window. That’s one good sign, at least, because it means you’re home, right? He peers past the half-open curtains when he arrives at your floor. He’s just checking. Nothing suspicious or untoward. Yet all of that is scrapped— another deviation from his initial plan— when he sees you sitting on your couch, sorting through a pile of mail on your coffee table. With a mind of their own, his knuckles knock lightly against the glass and he can’t help but let a humorous snort slip out when your body jerked with a visceral startle, head whipping towards the source of your adrenaline spike.

You don’t need to verbally question his sudden appearance when it’s written all over your face. Your eyebrows are knitted and arched, mouth turned down in a slight frown, hands clenched in fists with visible tension and unease. “Alhaitham, what– I mean–”

He holds up the food behind the windowpane for you to see. “I wanted to bring you dinner since you probably don’t have anything prepared on your first night back.”

Without another word, you slide open the window, letting him clamber through as you take the bag from him. He retrieves it as you lock the window and yank the curtains together, setting it on the table away from a mound of what he presumes to be junk mail. You scramble for words and coherency as you search for clean plates and utensils, but the effort is fruitless. There’s a trapped shriek in your chest and you don’t know how to snuff it out.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for some awkward small talk here and there. He makes it a point to give you extras, whether it be a little more mint cilantro or tamarind chutney for the samosas (despite it being his favorite) or more of the lamb from the biryani. Each little morsel pushes your heart further up your throat, further sending you into a downward spiral. Why is he so kind and caring when you had essentially kicked him out last time? Why is he going out of his way to make up for a wrong he never committed?

Alhaitham basks in your company, taking in every detail of your outward appearance. You seem skinnier than before, hair just a little bit longer. A few fresh, healing cuts on your hand stand out to him and he hopes they were all accidental and not intentionally created by another human being. There’s so much he wants to say and question, but for once he cannot find the right words. Rarely has he ever felt as though he was skating on paper-thin ice with someone – years of not caring or sparing thoughts for how others might perceive him lends nothing to resolve his state of incertitude. So the only way he can currently try to communicate is through actions, hence the extra foods and your favorite parts of them, making sure you have a usable napkin at all times, refilling your cup of water when it starts to look low, and more.

With a full belly, you sigh with satisfaction, a breath that appeases Alhaitham just the slightest bit. “That was good. Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome. Was the food in Fontaine not to your taste?”

You hum in thought. “A bit bland, honestly. Not as many spices are used in their foods like they are here.”

“Ah.”

The two of you sit silently for a few moments. You’re looking anywhere and at anything but him, your knee bouncing and hands wringing together. Is he trying to let you down easy? Soften the blow? What is his end goal?

His fingers tap the table in a silent rhythm, noticing that despite the small talk, the tension in the air is still viscous. He ignores the gnawing desire to hold your hand and squeeze it tight, to graze his thumb over those scabs and kiss them. He’s not ready to leave yet, which is why he juts his chin towards the only unopened bag on the table and says, “I also brought dessert. Would you care to have some now?”

No. Yes. I don’t know. I can think of something else I want for dessert but that’s not the point right now, is what runs through your head.

“Sure. What is it? I might have something to go with it.”

“It’s baklava.”

For him to remember that baklava from Pupusa Cafe is your preferred dessert when eating your favorite dishes is even more mind-boggling in this whole situation.

You stand on shaky legs and walk towards the pantry. “Does wine sound okay?”

Alhaitham ponders your last mutual experience with alcohol, which had ended in a disaster, even if he knew full well that it wasn’t a cause by any means; an unintended catalyst. As long as neither overindulged, it would be harmless. Right?

So he nods. “That sounds good.”

You return with a corkscrew opener, two stemless wine glasses, and one of your better bottles of aged wine. Alhaitham remains silent as he takes the opener from you and drives it into the cork, hand twisting the top knob with ease. You feel shameless in the way you stare at his arms, watching his muscles flex. The veins in his hand become more visible and you can see the tension in his forearm through his arm guards, all the more when he pushes the levers closed and wiggles the cork out of its confines. He takes good care to tactfully remove the cork and place it on the table, and pours a glass for you first.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take it from him with both hands, ignoring the way his fingers seem to linger after making contact with yours. You portion out the baklava as he pours a glass for himself and he voices his gratitude in turn.

As you nibble on the delicacy, the silence weighs heavily on your chest, both a burden and a source of comfort. “Did you find everything you needed in Fontaine for your research?” he asks, once again attempting to make some neutral conversation. Alhaitham has never been one for sweets, but he’s willing to eat it for and with you. The cafe’s baklava is one of few desserts he can handle, as it’s not as sickeningly sweet as some other places’ when they’ve added too much syrup.

You chew slowly as you think of your answer. “I think so. I feel pretty good about my report.”

“I’ll be sure to read it soon,” he responds. After all, he is a pretty quick reader, and with the dwindling number of research project applications, he can efficiently get through the other reports to make sure he reviews yours before he goes back to being the Scribe.

“You know, there’s no need to rush on my account,” you say. Honestly, that’s the last thing you need because it would confirm your worst fears and assumptions. Everything discussed with Lumine would’ve been tossed violently out the window, and you so badly don’t want it to manifest.

“...I won’t,” he assures you. Alhaitham understands your research paper needs to be treated like every other one passing through the Akademiya, especially if he is going to be one of the formal reviewers.

You feel your lungs losing air, your heart rate soaring through the roof. With a stroke of luck, your glasses of wine are finished off and the plates hold nothing but crumbs, which provides a perfect excuse for you to get up and get away.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes,” you announce, voice doing little to hide how nervous and shaky you’re feeling. It’s another miracle that you don’t drop anything on the trek from the dining table to the sink as you wonder if you’ve killed any chance of being with Alhaitham. Where was the confidence you possessed when you first met the man?

Even being mere meters away from him becomes painful. His presence alone provides a sense of security, strong and silent. The lack of warmth, the string between you two pulled taut, ignites an obdurate yearning – the very same yearning experienced when you spent days avoiding the man prior to your departure for Fontaine. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they all say, and there certainly was some merit to it.

The silence remains suffocating, in some ways, but also comforts you with its deep pressure, distracting you enough that you fail to notice Alhaitham moving around. He removes his cloak and earpieces, draping them neatly over the couch armrest before he comes to stand next to you at the sink. He grabs a towel and is ready to dry when you’re done washing the dishes. Your muscles begin to relax, that earlier frost of loneliness gradually dissipating with his presence nearby. He dries everything with the utmost care and lines them up neatly as you hand them over, and you ignore the little brushes of his fingers against yours with each relinquished plate. You can’t help but wonder if he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks because honestly, you feel like your face is on fire.

Alhaitham finishes drying off the last item – the second stemless wine glass – and turns to lean his back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He waits as you rinse down the sink and passes you the towel to dry off your hands. Your timid smile leaves him hopeful that you’re not visibly shying away from him— not visibly, at least. Seconds pass, and now there is nothing left for you to do or keep yourself busy. He waits for you to gather your bearings and settle to show that you’re ready to talk about… whatever this is.

Those haunting irises suddenly meet his with an alarming amount of determination, holding steadfast and searching his for something, anything. He can’t bear to lose and look away, not that he wants to. Yet you remain quiet, and Alhaitham leans into his impulses.

With firm, sure hands, he pulls you toward his original spot and lifts you up just enough so that you’re sitting on the counter. Alhaitham plants them by your waist and bends down to be level with your gaze, which now holds hints of fear and surprise. They’re open wide, your pupils slowly dilating, and he catches a glimpse of your fingers curling around the edges of the counter. He so badly wants to cradle your face in his hands, to feel your physical presence and prove to himself that you’re really here before him. But that is intimacy he hasn’t quite been granted yet and he can’t mess this up. He must’ve done something wrong the last time he was here, and he most certainly doesn’t want to risk the same outcome again.

“I like you,” he proclaims with a resolute tone. Alhaitham has always hated beating around the bush when unnecessary, and at this point he needs it said out loud for you to know. “I have been attracted to you since the moment we met, and I used to believe that it was purely a biological response. But then I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to learn more about who you are and how your mind works. To be quite honest, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else being in my position right now. I will not hide the fact that I am selfish and want you all for myself, if you would have me.”

You are struggling so hard to keep the smile off your face, your mouth pursing while your teeth dig into the inside of your bottom lip. Three months ago, you would never have seen this coming, and you would have laughed in anyone’s face if they had suggested it.

“If you need time, I can wait. I am not always the most patient person, but for you, I am willing to do so. And–”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t want to see me again after having sex,” you interject and confess. The embarrassment of your thoughts and actions quickly becomes a heavy weight in your chest. Your nerves strain to get the better of you and shut you down before saying more, but you force yourself to push past them. Alhaitham provided you with honesty and transparency, and he deserves the same from you. “We had so much tension between us and I was worried that once it was all resolved, you wouldn’t feel the need to see me again.”

Alhaitham takes a moment to process your words, but he can still see the tension in your shoulders. You won’t meet his gaze as you look past him or at other parts of his body. “There’s something else, is there not?”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwined and fingertips applying pressure where they land. With how forthcoming he has been, you owe it to him to extend the same courtesy, despite how silly it feels now.

“I couldn’t understand why you would even like me,” you say, voice soft and barely audible in the silence. You’re unable to mask the melancholy in your tone when you remember how it felt to internally question his affections and assume the worst. A quiet chuckle slips past your lips, but it’s derisive and bittersweet. “I’m just another scholar and you— you were the Scribe and later Acting Grand Sage. I thought maybe people would accuse me of… providing sexual favors, to put it lightly, if you showed me any leniency or favoritism in my academic career.”

The back of your knuckles brush against his cheek as you lift your head up to take him in. “You could have anyone in the world and you deserve nothing but the best. So why me?”

“I would need a few all-nighters and several pieces of paper to pen down every reason why.”

His quick reasoning with all indicators of certainty – his tone, the lack of any dishonesty in his eyes, the way he holds your eye contact – takes you for a loop. You’re only able to let out a soft “oh” as you let the implications of his words swim in your brain, leaving you helpless to find a suitable response. How do you follow up on an answer like that?

When he feels your fingers slipping down his jawline, he stops it with his own to press his cheek into your palm. “If it provides you any comfort, I will no longer be the Acting Grand Sage by next week. You know how long I’ve waited for them to process and approve of my resignation. And as the Scribe… it still does not matter. People who would assume something so salacious are simply capitalizing on their own insecurities, and they do not deserve a second of your time or an ounce of room in your thoughts. I do my best to exercise fairness and reason in all matters for the Akademiya, and even as my partner you would not be safe from that.

“I’ve never shied away from telling you how things are and you know this. I can ensure you would not earn any favoritism or leniency within the boundaries of the Akademiya, should my presence be involved in your research.”

The smirk that creeps up at the corner of his lips ignites a small flame in your belly – thrill and heat and trepidation all melding together. “Now, outside of those boundaries, it’s a different matter. If I may pry once more, what is your answer?”

Liquid fire pumps from your heart and into your veins, further fueling the heat in your core. Just as it dips dangerously lower, so does your hand, and the other joins in lightly scraping your nails down his abdomen. You feel him jump beneath your touch and relish in the sound of his swallow, and how his breath hitches when your fingertips dip into the band of his pants. They tug him forward until he’s standing between your thighs, just centimeters of nothingness between you two. Even as close as he is, Alhaitham can’t help but think there’s still too much space unoccupied.

Your eyes scream, beseeching him to understand your actions and for him to respond in kind. It can only mean one thing, but he wants to hear those words. He wants it engraved in his memories for the rest of time, despite the desperation to give in and give you both what you desire and need. Alhaitham grasps your chin between his thumb and curled index finger, leaning forward closer and closer until his lips barely touch yours.

“Use your words.”

Arousal seeps through your underwear as the subdued tenor of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Wholly unfair, this man is. Devilish, demanding, teasing, controlling – but most of all, he is yours.

“Please let me have you, if you will have me,” you whisper against his lips, eyelashes fluttering closed at the faint touch.

No sooner when you are greeted by darkness does he fully slot his mouth against yours, hands gripping tightly on your hips to pull you against him. A groan slips past and into you because gods, he’s missed this so much. After nights of waking up with the ghost of your kisses, he never wants this to end and longs for a reality where time can stop and he can take his sweet, sweet time to worship every millimeter of your body with his lips, and then some. Excitement electrifies his whole body when you reciprocate his desire ounce for ounce, and even more so when you let out a pretty little whine, just for him.

When he pulls back for a chance to breathe, he doesn’t move far. “Good girl,” he praises so sweetly, the words washing over you in something akin to pride for eliciting his approval and pleasing him. Alhaitham slides the tip of his nose against yours, moving to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, your jawline, and the pulse point on your neck. Even the slightest pressure has you tilting your head to the side, granting him permission and room to do as he pleases. Alhaitham bides his time to press whispers of kisses onto your skin until he nips a sensitive spot. A sharp inhale pierces through the kitchen when he sucks on the patch of skin caught between his teeth, taking the utmost care to break the little capillaries underneath. He wants you to experience his phantom touches on these spots in the hours when he’s away from you, a constant reminder that you are his and his alone.

Your fingers dig into Alhaitham’s silver locks, torn between pressing him further into your neck and pulling him away. “Haitham,” you plead and tug on his strands, which only prompts an even harsher abrasion from him. “Wanna kiss you.” Your voice is breathy, and you feel as if you’re on the verge of tears. Who is he to deny such a reasonable request?

Though instead, he pulls you off the counter and rushes to your bedroom with you in tow, granting your wish as soon as you enter. The back of his knees hit the foot of your bed and Alhaitham drags you with him when he sits on top of your blankets. Despite your eagerness to clamber over and straddle him, he disapproves when you attempt to exercise a modicum of control over the situation by leveraging some height over him, utilizing gravity to lean into his embrace and kisses. His palms slide up your thighs with reverence until they dig into the crevice of your hips and yank them down. To have you pressed fully against him is most certainly a blessing, and there’s no way you don’t feel his growing arousal against yours.

When he feels his bottom lip stuck between your teeth, Alhaitham smiles. It still seems you’re not fully understanding the position you’re in. Perhaps, he might need to remind you of just who exactly is succumbing to who.

You keen when his hands dip underneath your shirt to draw meaningless patterns into your waist, but also to make his mark as he holds tight enough that you think you would feel some internal bruising tomorrow. They dance higher and higher, until they meet the bottom seam of your bra, and you nearly choke with the arousal suffocating your lungs.

“Can I?” Alhaitham almost begs, but watches for any sign of hesitation.

“Yes,” you breathe back. You lift your arms up, waiting with thinning patience, and he wastes no time in following through, tossing the shirt to the side with one hand as the other busies to unhook the metal clasp of your bra. Soon enough, your upper body is bare for him to see, to touch, to love – and his breath is taken away because you are so, so beautiful; perfect breasts with hardened nipples, an empty canvas all for him. He made a mistake last time for not seeing them properly, having been too focused on the way they felt against his chest instead.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His subsequent scoff feels derisive, sardonic, self-destructive, and his thumbs ghost over your areolas. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous – this is unfair.”

“You’re the one who’s unfair,” you retaliate with a shaky breath as you nearly tear off his shirt. One look at his muscular and toned frame, and it takes everything to stop the drool from spilling past your lips. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Be careful,” he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh just underneath your breasts. Alhaitham holds onto you as he scoots further back onto the bed, and once he deems there’s enough room, he rolls over until he’s hovering above you, panting and hair splayed and lips swollen. “I’m just a feeble scholar.”

When you roll your eyes with an excessive amount of sass, he dips down to capture your right nipple in his mouth and gives a harsh suck as punishment, satisfied when all defiance on your face morphs into pleasure. Pretty, responsive, little angel, all for him, so sweet, so delicate, so adorable when your spine arches into his mouth and continues to suspend itself as he pays his respects to your other breast. You feel your conscience become fuzzier and fuzzier, dissolving into mush as the tendrils of overstimulation begin to grow, and once again, you find yourself torn between wanting to let him continue and wanting him to stop.

He decides to grant you some mercy when you can’t help but twitch and shy away. Alhaitham’s primal desires begin to crest and wash away any rationale, desperate to keep the taste and feel of your skin between his lips and on his tongue. He doesn’t quite understand this newfound desire to nip and bite, but all he knows is that when he does, his arousal pulses and nearly threatens to break past the seam of his pants. Alhaitham moves lower, lower, ghosting past your stomach, nudging past the band of your bottoms and underwear to tug them down all the way. Those are thrown out of view and he finally, finally, gets to continue from where he last left off, taking no time to push your legs away towards your chest and give a lascivious lick up the length of your cunt. The tip of his tongue meets your clit at the end of its journey, and he firmly holds you down when your hips buck into his mouth as it circles the nub.

It’s game over when he takes it fully in his mouth.

Your hands twist themselves once more into his silver hair, expletives slipping off your tongue as you chase your high. You feel your pussy clench around nothing the higher you climb, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. He eats you out like a man starved, enthusiasm unveiled and clear. His passion unbridled and sending you further into the clouds, you feel tears in your eyes begin to well up from sheer bliss, so sensitive and so unbelievably unprepared for everything this man was going to give you tonight. “Haitham,” you cry over and over, his name a mantra and prayer.

When he leans back, you catch a glimpse of the sheen on his chin and the way his eyes remain focused on your arousal, pupils blown. “You taste so good,” he compliments, his voice somehow having dropped an octave lower. “Could eat you out for hours. So good for me, fuck.” It’s dangerous how much you love to hear him curse, knowing that you are the reason why. The rational, feeble, well-spoken scholar, his prose extending to situations such as now, is almost reduced to such crude and filthy vocabulary.

Alhaitham would need to be blind to miss your sticky precum practically spilling from your core after what he said. It’d be a shame to let any of it go to waste, he muses, as he drags his tongue up the length of your cunt and pays attention to your clit again. He watches for every reaction, what makes you tug him closer, what makes your body twitch and convulse, what causes the shakiest exhales from your lungs, what contributes to your squeals and cries – he wants you to get a taste of just how unhinged he becomes in your presence.

Each moment of friction, so wet and slick, against your core seems to send you further and further into oblivion. Tears overflow when your heart bursts and Alhaitham doesn’t miss them – the sheen sliding down the sides of your face shines in the moonlight and he knows there is no reason to fear you’re in pain. He drinks in your moans and feels your fingers tangle further in his silver strands, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, your hips with a mind of their own as you grind against his tongue and nose to chase your release. Alhaitham pays no mind to the way his cock twitches once more in his pants or the unmistakable wet spot that’s formed from his own precum.

The coil in your abdomen wounds tighter and tighter. There is nothing on your mind but the man between your legs and your impending orgasm, one with an intensity you haven’t experienced in ages. “ ‘m close,” you gasp and meet his burning gaze. “Please, wanna cum – yes – please, sir–”

How he doesn’t cum in his pants at the title is beyond his comprehension, but the stroke to his ego is welcoming, to say the least. Alhaitham never felt any type of way when others addressed him as so, sometimes annoyed even, but from you? It is everything. A verbal indication of relinquishing your power to him, your existence at its highest vulnerability, the underlying respect, the implicit trust hidden between three letters – only has him pushing down harder against your thighs, leaving no room for you to fight. The resolve and determination to have you cum on his tongue only increases and his thoughts plunder further into hell. Cum for me, cum on my tongue, let me taste your release that I give you, so fucking addictive – his silent commands painted on your tight bundle of nerves.

With Alhaitham exercising a dizzyingly sinful strength against you, leaving you helpless and defenseless, you let yourself succumb as your heart rate increases. Your breathy warnings and pleas, the oh fuck!s, the whimpering sir!s, confessions of love on the tip of your tongue – you have one minute, moment of clarity when your body freezes, and the coil snaps.

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so hard before, reality-shattering, nerves on overdrive, your body trembling beneath his palms as you ride out the pleasure for as long as you can. The quiet scream from your lungs is inevitable as it dissolves into sobs and Alhaithm follows you when your hips buck. There’s not enough oxygen for you and you can feel the visceral clenching of your abdomen as you fight for air and some semblance of control again – but that flies out the window when, for the first time tonight, Alhaitham slides his tongue inside your quivering cunt.

Said Scribe cannot help but groan, and he wishes he’d done this earlier. To feel your creamy walls squeeze as his taste buds slide amongst them, your keening ringing in his ears, the shaking of your thighs a prisoner between his fingers, the intoxicating taste of your cum – all of it is more than he could have ever dreamed of. Right where he wants you, and all his, his, his.

The incessant tugging of his hair tells him to stop for now, as much as he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d have you cumming on his tongue for hours, his hard cock be damned. But your convulsions of overstimulation manage to generate the slightest bit of sympathy and he laments when pulling away. His eyes hone in on the way your pussy contracts around nothing, almost begging for something to fill you again. “Good girl,” he praises, tenor delicate and charming, as he rubs gentle circles on your abdomen in an attempt to ground you. There are stars in your eyes, and he waits for you to come back to him.

You barely register Alhaitham’s hand on your body as you stare up at the ceiling, brain and soul somewhat disconnected due to the high of your orgasm. So good to me, your thoughts coo. Haitham, sir, how can I show my gratitude to him?

“Y/N,” and at last, you make eye contact with him. He preens at the blissed out look on your face and moves forward until he’s lying next to you, his weight supported on one arm while the other brushes away your baby hairs. A dreamy smile graces your lips, and he can’t help but lean forward for a soft kiss. Languid, sensual, pliant – several minutes fly by as you bask in each other’s presence until the need for more begins to bloom again. Alhaitham lets out a chuckle when he feels your hand wandering down his frame until it rests on his crotch. Making out with you has kept him semi-hard, and he’s happy you’re taking the initiative. Not that you’re in control, by any means, but it’s cute that you might think so.

Your mind reels from just how big he feels beneath your palm. You can’t deny the times when you’ve sneaked glances at his crotch, his tight pants outlining a slight bulge from day to day – but you never thought your fingers would be splayed so far apart, and you just know they would struggle to meet when gripping his length. Your whines reach his ears as you fumble with the clasp above the zipper, and Alhaitham is so kind, kind enough to take over and do it for you. Seconds later, his pants and underwear join the pile of forgotten clothes, and you immediately look down at what you’ve been waiting for.

The instant pooling of saliva in your mouth is embarrassing, shame and lust spilling into your chest and through your veins. Alhaitham’s cock is so beautiful, just like the rest of him, and you’ve never wanted something in your mouth so bad. It twitches under your reverent gaze, and the tip glistens with his precum. Even the noticeable veins drawn along his length are beautiful, and his balls seem to be engorged, heavy with cum. You prove your earlier hypothesis when you hold it in your hand, and your fingers truly do not meet around the circumference. A gush of slick leaks and paints your inner thighs, your hand seemingly tiny in comparison as you slowly stroke him.

Alhaitham hisses at your touch, so cold against the heat of his cock. There’s a passing thought of wanting to keep that fawning look on your face at all times, the metaphorical hearts in your eyes with his dick in your hand. In a moment of weakness, the thought begins to spiral into darker fantasies, how to keep you hooked and dependent on him, his cock, his mouth, his touch. A flash of a daydream crosses by of him sitting in his office chair, you on your knees between his legs, his shaft bullied deep in your throat as you keep it warm for him, drool and spit spilling from the corner of your lips, so submissive and desperate for him to fuck your face–

Your thumb glosses over his frenulum and he is ripped from his reverie. At risk of cumming too quickly, he thinks of how to keep your soft hands away for now. What can he use? How can he restrict you?

Ah.

Confused whimpers follow after him when he abruptly stands up from your bed and walks over to the pile of discarded clothes. You miss the warmth of his body next to you, goosebumps from the sudden chill rising on your skin. But before you can begin to chase after him, he returns to sit on the bed and beckons for you to sit up for him.

He loves how willing you are to obey him, your eyes wide and a little awestruck as you follow his gesture – almost as if he were your puppeteer. Alhaitham holds out his hands in front of him, palms facing the ceiling, and you match the posture with intrigue painted across your face. As you wait, clarification comes to you when he reveals the patterned, teal sash that usually encompasses his hips. Slow, deliberate movements as he wraps the cloth around your wrists (in case you don’t want it because he would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with), indicate this uncharted territory. And when the tie is made and the knot is pulled tight, you look up at him.

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you give a mute nod, he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Words, Y/N.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Yes, sir, it’s okay.”

Alhaitham watches as you lay back until your head meets the pillow, and your bound wrists lay prettily above your head. Your constrained and exposed body greets him. He sees your eyes strain to catch another glance at his cock, and the smirk on his lips is nothing but smug as he gives it a few quick pumps as a gift to you.

“Can you come here?” You plead because you know there’s no room to make any demands, and it’s his turn to be curious. Nevertheless, he resumes his original position by your side, but you shake your head. You can tell he doesn’t know what’s happening, but you are feeling shameless and powerless, at the mercy of this man, and you want him to really, really, drive that point deeper.

“Can you…straddle me? Like above my chest though?”

If this is going where Alhaitham thinks it’s going, he might just abandon the Akademiya altogether, whisk you away to his house, kick out Kaveh and have him live in your apartment instead, and keep his own doors locked for eternity. He does as you ask as he thrums in excitement, his cock weighty and leaking when you’re satisfied with where he is.

Time slows to a crawl as he watches you lift your head up with your pretty mouth open and take the tip of his cock between your glossy lips.

The tight heat is maddening, a strangled “fuck” falling off his tongue, and you push forward to take more of his length in your mouth. So dutiful and loyal, you have proven yourself, as you suck his cock with your eyes closed and moans vibrating around him. Given certain physical limitations, there’s only so much you can take in, which is where he believes it’s his time to act his part. He places a hand on the back of your skull to provide you some relief, but also to sink deeper down your throat. Naturally, you fall back until it’s just the head between your lips again, but he is right there to drag you back towards him and fill your depraved mouth.

“Look at you,” he hisses, controlling your pace. Such a good little fucktoy, no? “Who knew you would want my cock so badly? For me to sit on top and watch as you struggle to even take half of it in your mouth? I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve started. Your lips are stretched so wide, but just wide enough for me to fit perfectly in between them, like it was made for me. Maybe that’s what it is.” His perverse thoughts run wild without any composure or filter, and he is unable to hold it in. “You were made for me and my cock, and– oh fuck – it seems like you love the idea of being my personal cocksleeve.”

Your eagerness to please him increases as you strain to take more in, his tip slipping into and catching the back of your throat. The sound of you choking on his cock rings in your ears, sending you further and further into oblivion. Every word from Alhaitham sounds true, and he’s right – right that maybe you were specifically made for him, his own blessing from the Archons, and right that you deeply, painfully, love the idea of letting him use you as he wishes. A garbled cry, followed by more sticky release dripping from your cunt, doesn’t go unnoticed when his voice sounds ragged on the word “cocksleeve.” It’s a lascivious tone of accord and approval, and your tears flow when he pulls you as far down his length as your quenched throat allows, your chained wrists resting atop your skull, and he keeps you there.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I have no objections to fully commit to being yours, your sir. But you must understand I expect the same commitment in return. This cock is yours,” Alhaitham promises, relishing in your muffled whimper of agreement. “And you are mine. My,” – a pause – “personal, depraved, slut.”

At first, he worries he might have gone too far with such a derogatory term, but they are all dashed aside when he watches your eyelids flutter closed and eyes roll into the back of your head. A long whine sends him into overdrive, and even more so when you try to fit more of his cock down your throat. Expletives slip from his tongue as he pulls you away completely, a tendril of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, your mouth still wide open while gasping for air. He sees your own tongue peek out and rest on your bottom lip, pliant and waiting for him to return.

Alhaitham lets go of your skull and watches you fall back to your pillow. He moves your tied hands above and over your head until they settle right above your belly button. The position allows him to trap your arms beneath him and move just a little further up the bed for the bottom half of his length to weigh heavily on your eager mouth. It remains open as he drags his shaft along your tongue, teasing you by slipping the head of his cock in your mouth. Your lips immediately close around it, but they are no match for when he pulls away, and you’re left empty once again.

“Truly a cockslut,” he chides as his hand takes a hold of his length and smacks it against your tongue. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you?” And he smirks when you nod, still beckoning, still waiting. “You’ve done well for me so far. Perhaps I should give you a gift.”

There’s little time to regain your senses when he shoves his length in until it hits the back of your throat once more and grabs onto your headboard. Just that angle gives him enough leverage to fuck your face as he pleases.

“If your mouth is this tight, I can only imagine what your cunt will feel like on my cock,” he grits out. Your brain goes numb as you take it all in, content and satisfied to please Alhaitham. You focus on making sure your teeth don’t drag against his skin, tongue swiping patterns and circles around his cock when possible. “I’ll need to take my time stretching out your tiny pussy, won’t I? Fuck, need to make it fit inside you. Isn’t that right?”

Alhaitham pretends to be dissatisfied with your moan, all garbled and thick with drool. “How many times do I need to tell you to use your words?” He teases, knowing full well there’s no way for you to form any right now. But a wicked, joyous laugh rings in your ears when he can tell you’re attempting to do it anyways. It goes straight down his dick and into his balls, and as they tighten further, he knows he’s close.

You don’t know how it’s possible for him to grow any thicker, but somehow it happens when his pace increases, and he tells you, “I’m going to cum, okay? Going to give you all my cum, make you my cumslut. You want to be my cumslut, you’re doing so well, so perfect, letting me fuck your mouth. Shit, cumming, cumming –!”

At the very last second, he pulls out and furiously pumps his cock, shifting back just in time for his cum to paint your breasts. “Fuck!” He growls and rides out the high until there’s nothing left to give you, blinding light beneath his eyelids before he snaps them open so he can watch you become covered by his release. Viscous, white ropes paint over you, some even landing on your cheek and neck. His chest heaves and his eyes remain unfocused from the fog in his brain.

That is, until he watches you swipe his cum from your neck with your fingers before it drips onto the bed, and place them in your mouth. Your sigh screams content as you lick them clean, and as far as he can tell, you’re enjoying the taste of him – as if he was the one to sate your thirst rather than the other way around. In a trance, he joins you in your meal by feeding you more with his own appendages, and his dick returns to half-mast once all the cum is visibly gone and slid down your throat.

“Thank you for your cum,” you say, your voice dreamy and euphoric. Alhaitham pulls you by your bound wrists again until you’re sitting up close enough, and buries his head into your shoulder, embedding his own kisses of gratitude into your skin. It doesn’t matter that there’s dried spit on your chin and your hair is a mess – you’re still so incredibly stunning to him.

To look into your eyes, to cradle your face in his palm, to ghost his thumb over your cheekbone, how lucky he is to be in a position to even ask you, “Was that okay?”

“Very,” you smile, unabashed and clearly happy with everything that had just happened. A small giggle slips out as well.

“Good,” he murmurs after kissing your forehead. “Would you be open to one more round? It seems I haven’t gotten enough of you.”

You see the evidence of his claims, how his cock gradually grows and rises under your watchful stare. His earlier words of needing to stretch you out before he can fuck you play in your head, and they remind you of just how wet you are. Still tied up, you scoot back away from him until you can stretch your legs out, parted to reveal what you so desperately wanted to touch as his dick was lodged in your mouth. Alhaitham’s pupils dilate and zero in on the mess between your thighs, and he chases after you to spread your legs farther.

“You became this wet from me fucking your mouth?” His fingers slide against the folds of your puffy cunt, your clit peeking out and swollen. “Tsk, all this pre gone to waste,” and you whimper when his nails barely graze that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. There’s no resistance when he works his middle finger inside you and your breath hitches. He turns his wrist as he fingers you, creating more and more arousal coursing through your veins. Alhaitham is proud that one finger of his affects you so. You whine and reach for him with grabby hands, managing to latch onto his wrist so he can keep his appendages buried inside you. “My my,” he teases, and his fingers curl, searching and searching until his fingertip taps against the exact spot that makes your back arch.

“You’re so eager to be filled,” Alhaitham taunts as he lubes up his ring finger with your slick. You feel even tighter when it slips in with his middle finger, and he finds that spot again in no time, already having memorized where it is. “You don’t have my permission to cum yet,” he warns, a decision just made when your walls are really beginning to clench around him.

“B-but–”

A third finger joins in, cutting you off from any protesting. “You either cum on my cock or not at all,” he offers and you think it’s beyond cruel. Why can’t you cum on his fingers and his cock?

With every last thread of your existence, you stamp down the growing desire to cum again. It feels like hours have passed, your sanity barely intact, when Alhaitham hums, just loud enough to be heard amongst your moans and whines. “I’m beginning to question whether I truly am too big for you,” he contemplates out loud. “What do you think, Y/N?”

It’s so hard to answer his question when you’re using everything else inside you to not break around his fingers. The depraved squelching of your slick only adds fuel to the fire in your core, and you’re trying to think, you really are–

The friction ceases, and before you can even address it, there’s a light, punishing slap across your clit. “Fuck,” you whimper, throat dry.

“Answer my question. Do you think I might not fit inside you?”

You know what answer he’s looking for. You know he wants you to surrender to his hidden intentions, that, “It doesn’t matter,” and you swallow. “I will…make it fit.”

In turn, he removes his fingers with care, but leaves you horribly empty with the void expanding into your chest. “Do you have a condom?” Alhaitham asks while looking around your bedroom.

“The bottom drawer on the right in the bathroom.”

Your sir leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I will return soon.”

For the seconds that you try to catch your breath, to calm your beating heart, to ignore the vacuity between your legs, you realize just where you are and who you’re with. You haven’t had much of a clear mind since the second he knocked on your window, caught up in the whirlwind of your nerves and paranoia – and then to have it turned on its head where you now lay in your bed, free of any prior anxiety, and drown in your lust.

Alhaitham wanders back into your room, focused on the package in his hand. Shameless and perverse, your eyes drink in his length, bobbing with each step. Even you’re beginning to doubt your ability to take him all in, but the anticipation, the threads of excitement that you may be filled again clouds over everything else.

“Hold your legs for me,” he commands gently, and you obey once he unties the sash around your wrists. Your arms hook beneath your knees so that everything is displayed and exposed to him. He sets the condom to the side when he shuffles closer so his hips meet the bottom of your thighs. Your breath hitches when he presses his cock onto your abdomen, and it pleases both of you so much to see that his tip just about reaches your belly button. “Look at how deep it’ll be inside you,” he coos, your whine following. “But it’s okay if you can’t take it all, you can’t help it that your little cunt is so tight.”

There’s a twinge of faux disappointment in his words. As if on instinct, you shake your head in vehement disagreement. “I’ll make it fit, sir, I promise,” you gasp and pull your legs closer to you. “We have to make it fit.”

“Mmm, my eager cocksleeve,” he responds with mirth, his regales washing away the panic from your system. You wait with bated breath as he grinds the underside of his entire length against your glistening folds, purposely catching onto your clit when possible. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand the torture, becoming wetter and wetter with each glide. “The color system is okay to check in with you?”

“Yes.”

He nods and leans back so the tip of his cock is just outside your entrance. His fingers roll and stretch the condom down his length. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to tear his gaze away from your core so he can obtain your consent to start, and the determined nod he receives sets his heart aflame.

A sinful perversion enters his mind as he watches your messy cunt split open and stretch over the head of his cock. He thinks about the future and wonders when the day will be for you to be in his lap and sink down his cock with no hesitation. His thumbs spread your folds further apart so he can get a better look, his lustful illusions from many lonely nights finally coming into play. Your breathy gasp when the head pops in is alluring, and he craves more of it. That perversion echoes its lack of satisfaction, that this is not enough, and he needs it all. Pride fills his chest as you take the first few inches with no problem, trying to take deep breaths as he continues to bully his way into your pussy.

Though internally, your mind is on the verge of breaking from how thick Alhaitham is. The emptiness from earlier has long been fulfilled, and you take a look to see that he’s barely fit half oh him inside you, and you already feel so full.

You were made for me.

I was made for him, you remind yourself, rationality thrown out the window because serving Alhaitham is all that matters in this moment. He’s giving you his cock, taking his time for you, providing a subtle reminder of just who you will belong to from here on out. Alhaitham has been so kind to you, you think. The least you could do is to be his good little slut, so eager and always yearning for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Alhaitham praises, though his voice chokes. You’re terribly tight around him, so much so that he wonders if he would even be able to pull out once he’s buried all of himself inside you. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, he thinks, to have you stuck on his cock for eternity, fucked dumb with nothing on your mind but him and pleasure. His hand puts the slightest pressure on your abdomen, but it’s enough for you to break with an “oh!”

“Fuck, I can almost feel myself inside you,” he marvels. “Color?”

It takes you a few seconds to process his question. “Green,” falls off your tongue with a whimper. But the bit of hesitation is enough for Alhaitham to stop in his tracks.

“Y/N, look at me.”

A dreamy hum on your lips, your blown out eyes meet his, and he realizes how far gone you are. “We can stop, it’s okay if we do.” But that may have been the wrong thing to say because your face falls, tears prickling your eyes. “I can do it,” you sniffle. “Please, sir.”

There is no way for him to remain unaffected by the way you address him, but he ensures to take extra care for the last few inches.

“You’re doing so well, taking all of me in. You’re keeping your promise, I’m so proud of you,” Alhaitham coos. The bottom of his shaft is just a little bit thicker, and you let out a happy squeal when your cunt stretches as much as it can to accommodate him. His tip barely grazes your cervix, and through your floaty thoughts, you almost wish it was deeper. The groan from Alhaitham as he bottoms out provides you comfort. It can only mean that you’re making him feel good, and that you did manage to have him fit inside you. So pleased with yourself, your pussy clenches around him and coaxes for more, for his cum.

If Alhaitham didn’t have better control of himself, he would’ve cum right then and there. Buried deep inside you, warm velvety walls sucking him in – it’s hard to believe that this is really happening. The person he loves is in his arms, joined with him in the most intimate way known to mankind. He never wants to leave you, leave this, yet his cock begs for friction. Your adorable whine of protest as he slides out a couple inches beckons him to return, and return he does as you let out a sound of pure satisfaction.

“Loveyou,” your words slurred together and fuzzy. “Love, love your cock, please, wan’ more, please?”

Archons, how are you so perfect for him? Alhaitham sets a steady, moderate pace and focuses on you, ensuring that you’re okay and pleased. It seems there’s a permanent grin on your face, even when you gasp or scream, and he’s determined to keep it there. When you seem completely accustomed to his pace, his strokes become longer and more indulgent. “Fuck,” you cry each time he fills you up with more and more of his cock with each stroke. His thumbs rub circles into your clit and drive you closer to your peak – you don’t know if you’re ready to cum yet, or if you want this to end. You don’t, but you’re so close–!

“Such a good girl for me – your little cunny was really made for my cock. There’s no one else for me, just you, pretty girl,” he breathes, seeing the hesitation on your face as your walls clench tighter than before. “I know you’re gonna cum soon, I want to see you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Anything he asks for, you would go to great lengths to give him what he wants. So if he wants you to cum, then you have to. You nod with a pout on your face, but Alhaitham leans forward, pushing your legs back further as he reaches to kiss the pout away. “That’s my good girl, so perfect.”

He pulls out completely, but why?

Alhaithm grabs and maintains eye contact with you for two agonizing seconds, and then commands you to, “Cum for me.”

And you do just that when he slams his entire length inside you as soon as those words leave his lips.

Alhaitham basks in your scream and sobs, your body convulsing and trembling beneath him, your walls an impossible vice around his cock. He grinds against you to go as deep as he can, “fuckfuckfuck”, and a growl buried in your neck as he cums. In your high, you think you can feel the heat and its spasms of it all, passively wondering what it would feel like to have him cum inside you without a condom. Perhaps one day you’ll be granted a nice little breeding session, but that is neither here nor there.

Alhaitham plants pecks and kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders, smiling when your little giggles reach his heart. If anything, he’s just happy that everything turned out okay and didn’t end up in a disaster like last time. As he observes the serenity gracing your complexion, he cannot contain his affection any longer.

“Thank you…for having me.” I love you.

Another giggle. “I love you, too, Haitham. A lot.”

You’re kindly gifted a most adoring eskimo kiss. “I need to get you cleaned up, so I need to pull out, okay?”

The pout returns despite your agreement, and Alhaitham spends much needed time to pull out without you breaking. The devil on his shoulder protests otherwise, as it attempts to coax him into keeping you speared on his cock for the night, or more. Your whine of loss tugs at his heartstrings and feeds into his greed, and he embraces you once more to keep you grounded. Slowly, but surely, you return to your senses. Alhaitham is heavy and sweaty against you, but it’s more than you could ask for. A few taps on his shoulder are enough to tell him that you’re back on the same plane of reality with him, and he dives in to kiss you again, painting compliments and praises of how amazing you were along your lips.

Alhaitham then sweeps you off the bed, into his arms, and takes hurried steps towards the bathroom. You’re like a delicate flower with the way he places you on the toilet, and he reminds you of the importance of peeing after sex. Your privacy is granted when he leaves to remove and tie off the condom to discard it in the kitchen trash can, and later returns with a warm, wet towel. He waits until you’re back in bed and comfortable before he tenderly wipes away any excess fluids and leaves it on your nightstand before cuddling next to you. You turn towards him and burrow into his chest, content as his arms embrace you with an air of security and protection.

He mumbles something into your hair, but you’re out before you can even think to ask what he said.

When you finally come to, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well. No tiresome dreams, no sporadically waking up in the night – weeks out in the nature with Lumine had turned you into a light sleeper, and you missed this feeling of being so well-rested.

But the soreness in your thighs screams otherwise, and you wince when they refuse to cooperate. A muscular arm rests around you as if it has always belonged there. At first you question why it’s there, but then your brain decides to wake up and remind you just exactly of what transpired last night. Despite the mixture of shock and embarrassment (mainly at just how wanton you acted), you look up from where you are buried into Alhaitham’s chest. Somehow, you’re surprised to see him already awake. Well, surprised may not be the right word. But the clear adoration in his eyes is unmistakable, seizing and pulling on your heartstrings.

Alhaitham quite enjoys watching you think and process, imagining the fine-tuned gears and cogs in your brain working in overdrive. He remains silent as he smooths out some of the tangles in your hair, and he patiently waits to hear from you. You two had already experienced many hours of quietude before, so this was nothing new for him. There are very few moments in his life when he’s felt this serene and content, half-naked and you pressed against him, both drinking in each other and the light of day coming from your window. He could get used to this. He wants to get used to this.

“You’re making me breakfast in bed,” you decide with your first words of the day, grumbling with a pout on your face. “I don’t think I can walk properly.”

The former scribe arches a perfect silver brow, but the shit-eating smirk stretching along his face is anything but confusion. He knows exactly what you’re implying, and he’s quite satisfied with himself for causing such a situation. Perhaps he should do it more often.

“That I can do,” he agrees, his morning voice deep, yet full of mirth. After a quick kiss on your forehead, he rolls out of bed to do just as you command.

The growl from your stomach prevents you from calling him back because you’re cold now. A shiver runs down your spine as you tighten the blanket and sheet around you, tucking some beneath your chin in an attempt to trap whatever warmth you have left. But when you catch a hint of Alhaitham’s lingering scent, you feel yourself immediately calm down and breathe evenly. The gentle cluttering from your kitchen provides another layer of security as well.

Lost in your basking, you’re quite startled when you feel Alhaitham’s lips on your cheek, a tray in his hands with a light, yet nutritious breakfast arranged. But as you continue to lay there, he can’t help but laugh.

“Do you need help sitting up?”

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

You do, in fact, need his strength to sit up comfortably against some pillows. The embarrassment hasn’t quite worn off by the time he slides back underneath the sheets to sit next to you, an arm slung over your shoulders as you eat. But in seconds, it dissipates, and is replaced with something akin to love. For you both to finally be here, together as if you two have been dating for years, is exactly the outcome you have been wishing for.

“You know,” he starts before being interrupted by a forkful of food shoved into his mouth, courtesy of you. “You’re a perfect reason why I can finally kick Kaveh out of my home.”

You swat his shoulder with your free hand. “That’s so mean!”

“He can just move in here. I’m not that heartless to leave him homeless. Is that what you think of me?”

You answer without hesitation, “Yes.”

With the hand hanging off your shoulder, his nails scrape lightly in retaliation against the skin beneath your collar bone.

“If I recall, I was pretty fair with you last night,” he murmurs into your hair. “Perhaps I need to remind you just how fair when you’re done with breakfast.”

And you’ve never finished a meal so quickly.

fin.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

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midnightfictionlibrary · 10 months

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Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie TarttxFem!Reader

Tennessee Whiskey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : tenderness, flirting, friends to lovers, love triangle, jealousy

Word Count : 1.7k

Plot Summary : Out at a quirky themed bar with the team, Jamie approaches the reader to apologize for what he deems as dickish behavior. Flirty words turn to a tender moment, but the reader doesn’t realize someone else is pining after her.

A/N : This was a fun piece to write! Still on my Jamie Tartt bs, bc I love him so much. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy it, and let me know if you would possibly want a part 2??

Music drifted through the speakers in the tiny, hokey, Southern American themed bar, and you sighed, eyeing Ted and Beard singing along jovially. You took a sip of your sickeningly sweet sweet tea, just the way you liked it. You had come along to London with Ted and Beard to continue your job as their personal assistant. Let’s face it, they needed help keeping up with everything that needed to be kept track of, and you were the one for the job. Sure, you were younger, but you had proven yourself a capable office manager back in Kansas.

Your view of the two men was obstructed by another, admittedly more handsome man. Jamie. Your breath hitches slightly, and you cover it with another sip of your drink. You had grown a friendship with the young player, and considered him someone you could go to for anything and everything. What Jamie didn’t know, however, is that you had deep feelings for him, and care about him more than anyone else.

“Hi Jamie!” You chirp, setting your empty drink glass on the bar. Jamie peers at you, looking at the drink you had sat down. You rarely drank alcohol, so this was a rare form for you. You follow his gaze, snorting slightly. “It’s sweet tea, no alcohol. What brings you to my dingy little corner of the bar?” You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, feigning needing to hear him better.

“I came to apologize.” He says, his lips close enough to brush your ear. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together out of concern.

“Apologize for what?” You ask, going through every interaction you had with him recently, coming up short. “You’re worrying me, Jamie.” You say, studying his face.

“I feel like I’ve been a prick lately, and I’m sorry. I’ve been stressed about the Man City game, and you know me dad-”

You hold up a hand to stop him. “Jamie, you haven’t been a dick to me at all, ok? I get that you’re stressed, and your dad sucks. But you haven’t been any less kind to me than you’ve always been.” The hand you held up moves to squeeze his hand.

“You’re too good for me, love.” He says back, lifting your hand to his and kissing your knuckles slightly. You try to pretend that your heart didn’t skip a beat, and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Please. You flatter me.” You wave your hand away, as if to say he needn’t mention it, that’s what friends are for.

But Jamie moves closer to you, your torsos almost pressing into each other. In this dingy bar, the low light accentuates Jamie’s handsome features, and you gaze up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I really mean it. Even when I was bein’ a little prick all the time when you and Ted and Beard first got to Richmond, you were nothin’ but nice to me.” He shrugs. “And I never thanked you.”

“You really don’t have to thank me, I’m glad I forced you to be my friend.” You flash a grin at him, which makes him laugh, looking away from you slightly while he absorbs your presence. When his gaze finds yours again, it’s considerably softer.

“Darlin’, I was putty in your hands the first time you bossed me around.” You snort incredulously, and he laughs. “I was. You got on me arse about being on time and it kicked me into gear.”

“You were stressing Ted out, and a stressed out Ted is a stressed out assistant.” You confirm. “Jamie.” You say, looking at him. “Did you really come to seek me out just to tell me you’re glad I yelled at you the first week we met?”

“Of course not. I needed an excuse to come talk t’you.” He murmurs, absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You never need an excuse to be near me.” You breathe out, and you’re faintly aware of a slow, sweet country song playing in the background. You clear your throat, drawing back slightly from him, “I love this song,” you say, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to change the subject at hand.

"You're as smooth, as Tennessee whiskey, you're as sweet as strawberry wine..." the old jukebox plays, and you close your eyes a moment.

Jamie doesn’t respond, he takes your hand delicately and leads you to the small dance floor. Your heart pounds, wondering what this change in Jamie is all about. Of course, the two of you were friends. But he had never been so tender with you. You were usually the one giving hugs, patting hands, brushing hair away…did he actually mean to be this sweet and touchy-feely with you? Or was he drunk? Jamie draws you close, holding one of your hands to his chest while the other wraps around your waist. He rests his head against yours and murmurs something you can’t quite hear.

“Hm?” You manage to squeak out, a little more high pitched than you meant to be.

“I said, I always want to be near you. I know you only think of me as a friend, and I get it, but I wanted you…”He clears his throat, “wanted you to know.” He finishes.

You pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I only think of you as a friend?” You say softly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t.”

Jamie knits his brows together. “You don’t?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “No! Why would you think that?” You look into his eyes again, and the sight of you making eye contact seems to instantly soften his gaze again.

“Because you’re…well, you.” He says. “Always seemed too busy to get involved with an athlete, not to mention one that you’re friends with.”

“I must be good at hiding the fact that I am desperately drawn to you, then.” You say, causing Jamie to smile and press a kiss to your temple. “Jamie.” You say.

“Yea?” He responds, rocking the two of you gently to the music.

“Kiss me.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Keeping a hold of your hand pressed to his chest, Jamie draws his face back to look at you. When he sees that you’re being serious, he presses his lips to yours. Slow, sweet, longing. You bring your free hand up to rest lightly at the back of his neck, and when he breaks the kiss, you keep it there. It’s intimate, familiar.

Jamie pulls you close again, resting his head against yours. “I guess this makes us more’n friends, yea?” He whispers in your ear.

You laugh, nodding along. “I guess so.” You reply, blushing happily as the two of you danced in the low light.

“Good luck gettin’ rid of me, love.” He says playfully, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh.

A low growl escaped the burly man’s lips as he watched Tartt slowly spin you on the dancefloor.

You seemed to be deep in conversation, and he feels Ted and Beard both looking at him.

He sighs, setting the beer bottle in his hand down on the bar with a clink signalling the cowboy hat clad bartender to swap it out with a fresh, full one.

“I heard a growl there, Roy.” Says Ted, who then looks over Roy to catch Beard’s attention. “What’s got this one more riled than a junkyard dog, Coach?” Beard jerks his head towards you and Jamie, swaying slightly to the music, and Ted breaks into a smile.

“Well hey, isn’t that nice?” Ted says, earning a glare from Roy. “By that look I’m collecting that you don’t think that’s nice.” He states.

Roy just grunts again in response, lifting his bottle to his lips, his eyes watching you.

Beard shrugs. “Seems like you might have a crush.”

Ted nods knowingly. “Well, I could have told you that, Beard. You seen the way Roy looks at her when she comes into our office? Like she’s the sun, I’m telling ya.”

“Oi, shut it, you two.” Roy interjects, “and don’t pretend I can’t see the sly look the two of you are about to give each other. I’m not in denial about it.”

Ted and Beard look at Roy, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. Rushing him would just get them a “fuck off!”. So they had learned to wait.

“The thing is- I know she’s special. And clearly Jamie does too. Clearly we have the same taste in women.” Roy grunts as he watches Jamie pull away to look you in the eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying not to appear more jealous than he already was. “She’s just…she’s great. And I like her, okay?”

Ted and Beard exchange another look and Ted clears his throat slightly. “Listen Roy, we know she’s great. Wouldn’t know which way was up without her, but maybe you should actually try talking to her if you want her to like you.”

“How do you mean? I talk to her!” Roy says indignantly.

“Grunting in response to questions she asks you isn’t considered talking to her.” Beard chimes in, Ted nodding along and pointing to his long time friend.

Roy isn’t listening though. He’s watching Jamie lean in and kiss you, your hand reaching to cradle the back of his neck. It felt like everything stopped. He didn’t realize just how much he liked you until he saw you happy with someone else. Thinking that should be him. And that made him feel like an utter prick.

“Fuuuuuccckkkkk.” He groaned. This was not good.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent x reader #friends to lovers #pining #longing

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burr-ell · 2 months

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Conflict, Communication, and Chemistry: A Laura and Marisha PC Appraisal

A couple of people have observed across all three main campaigns that Laura and Marisha consistently make characters that ultimately don't seem to fully understand each other for various reasons, and their characters' chemistry (or lack thereof) is an outgrowth of that. And until recently, I thought that was one of those things that I personally saw but not everyone else was obligated to view the same way—chemistry is often subjective, and it’s for that reason that I tend not to take seriously a lot of the common shipping-based arguments about chemistry.

But in the most recent 4-Sided Dive, Marisha, Laura, and Sam said this:

MARISHA: I have enjoyed…of course, like, delving into the relationship is always fun, but then relationship tension is also fun. LAURA: Yeah, I feel like you guys [points between Marisha and Sam] are really big on—you really like relationship conflict too. You guys talk about that a lot. SAM: Of course. Because I don’t have any in my real life. LAURA: I’m terrified of conflict. That translates to the game as well, I don’t like conflict. SAM: You don’t like conflict? Even in the game, in this dramatic storytelling game that we’ve made together? LAURA: No! I don’t like fighting! SAM: You just want everything to go fine? LAURA: Yes!

And I think that made things click into place for me. This is the reason why their characters have this through-line, because their approaches to conflict bleed through to their character choices. Laura's characters’ issues tend to be internal; they tend not to have prolonged fights with other characters, and their arcs are often person-vs-self stories about emotional walls and struggling with self-centeredness in some capacity. Marisha's characters, on the other hand, are upfront about their problems and are completely unafraid to go toe-to-toe with other party members, and their character development is often a product of a straightforward person-vs-person or person-vs-society story about overcoming their physical obstacles. And it’s part of why their current characters’ relationship has played out in a way that’s strange and off-kilter, because their interactions do not read to me like the players really understood this about each other before the public talk show discussion quoted above.

In Campaign 1, Vex and Keyleth’s relationship is conspicuous by its absence; even within their superficial commonalities, they are not particularly drawn to each other beyond circumstance. Vex is unquestionably the leader of Vox Machina insofar as they have one, and she does this by consistently finding a compromise—when the group is arguing about their best course of action in Whitestone or Westruun or Draconia or the Nine Hells, Vex is the one who mediates and strategizes their way out. She's very good at seeing all sides of an issue, threading the needle, and coming to a decision that keeps the group happy and together. The problem is that she tends to do this at the expense of her personal needs being met; she bottles up a lot of her emotions and issues and she struggles with letting people in, and has to work on not internalizing and holding grudges.

Keyleth, on the other hand, consistently takes stances and isn't afraid to be the moral compass of the party, like when she notices how dark everyone is becoming during the Briarwood arc and fights to correct it. She lets herself feel what she feels rather than pushing it away, which allows her to overcome the physical and mental challenges of her Aramente and affords her more emotional freedom and honesty. Sometimes, though, these traits work against her—she will argue a point and continue to belabor it until someone else steps in; she can be self-righteous due to her own naïveté; and her emotional openness can be poorly-timed and lead her into indecision and dithering. One of the few one-on-one conversations Keyleth and Vex have is after Vex dies and is brought back in the Sunken Tomb, and Vex is quickly exasperated at having to deal with Keyleth’s feelings when she’s the one who died and she’s just trying to piece together what happened.

Vex is often frustrated by Keyleth's hardline beliefs and feelings and has to compromise around them; Keyleth sees conflict in a much more literal way than the internalization and masking that Vex does, and as a result never really digs deeper into who Vex is as a person. By the end of the campaign, they call each other sisters, which I think is appropriate—they're two people who care about each other but have little in common, tied together by the single factor of Vax. Outside of that commonality, there's little reason for them to be especially close the way they are with other members of the party; if there was, they’d have been close at any point throughout the previous 114 episodes.

Beau and Jester form a stronger friendship in Campaign 2, but they seem to understand just enough about each other to get along well while not being able to truly see each other. Jester is cheerful and goofy by nature, but she also projects that particular image in order to make the people around her happy and keep them together. While she will speak her mind, she doesn’t tend to stand at one end or the other of the ideological and political spectrum of issues faced by the Nein and is simply happy to have an adventure and sow some chaos. Even when having difficulties with the Traveler, Jester is willing to work through it and find a solution that works for both of them in order to preserve the relationship.

Beau, meanwhile, approaches the world abrasively and aggressively and is a bit too prepared to burn bridges with people if she thinks they aren’t worth it. While she recognizes the nuances of the conflict between the Empire and the Dynasty, she’s ultimately loyal to the Cobalt Soul’s mission of using knowledge to fight corruption. She’s perfectly happy to butt heads with Caleb or Fjord or Molly if she thinks they’re in the wrong, and her cut-your-losses mentality puts her in conflict with how important the Traveler is to Jester.

This difference is thrown into especially sharp relief not only by how they deal with their respective fathers, but also the response they think the other should have. Jester wants to reconnect with the Gentleman and for him to repair his and Marion’s relationship, while Beau has fully written off Thoreau and has no interest in reconciling. Jester is upset at Beau’s suggestion that she just forget her dad and not put effort into someone who won’t do the same for her, while Beau is less than impressed with Jester’s suggestion that Thoreau really does care about her and it might be worth it to patch things up, and the upshot of it all is that the way everything plays out makes it clear that both of them have badly misread the other’s situation.

Beau, like Keyleth before her, doesn’t seem to understand that Jester is masking a lot of insecurities and wants someone to see her for who she is and not an idealized version of her; Jester actually stops confiding in Beau after Beau tells her she doesn’t need Artagan and that she’s the actual god. Jester, meanwhile, is unwilling to set aside her dreams and fantasies and is at her happiest when she can roam and adventure freely, something for which Beau would not set aside her responsibilities and beliefs in the mission of the Cobalt Soul. They’re still good friends, but going their separate ways is a benefit to both of them.

And now we have Imogen and Laudna, whose relationship felt lacking well before it became romantic. A lot of time and energy has been spent by multiple people trying to articulate exactly why that is, and there are many reasons—Laudna’s concept seems better-suited to a short form narrative and it took about 60 episodes for her character to stop feeling entirely superfluous; the relationship lacks any substantive conflict or disagreement and the supportiveness feels more like a mutual security blanket; they seem to have little in the way of an actual dynamic outside of melodramatic plot moments. But the relevant issue here is that Laudna is, for all intents and purposes, a yes-woman who supports whatever Imogen wants to do simply because Imogen wants it (a trait that notably does not carry over to anyone else in the party—she is completely unafraid to delve into negative emotions and traits with Ashton and Orym, both of whom are played by people Marisha has historically worked with to produce some of the best relationship dynamics on the show). If Imogen wants to run off and live in a cottage or join the Vanguard or commune with Predathos or not commune with Predathos, Laudna will uncritically encourage her no matter what, because per Marisha’s words on the Laudna playlist, “Laudna will protect and attack anyone who tries to fuck with her girl”. Part of Laudna’s core concept, baked in from the beginning, is the belief that Imogen “deserves the world”. Between these two players, the one who enjoys conflict is playing a character who will do everything in her power to shield and soothe the character being played by the one who hates conflict. The result feels less like a healthy supportive relationship and more like a recipe for enablement.

When episode 77 came out, I commented that for the first time I actually started to feel something—anything at all—about Imogen and Laudna, and it’s because I started to get a sense that there might be some real potential for tension and tragedy. And now—between Laudna imploring Imogen to move on from her if she dies, Marisha seeming to suggest at one point that Laudna may not have a future at all, Imogen admitting that she’s outright disgusted by Delilah, the disconnect between the players’ approaches to conflict, Imogen (and Laura, out of character) being shocked and horrified by Laudna absorbing the soul of the Willmaster, and Laudna now intentionally working with Delilah in order to protect Imogen—I’m starting to wonder if their relationship may indeed be on a collision course.

Now this could end in multiple interesting ways: Imogen could be driven away from Laudna, who is slowly consumed by Delilah; Laudna could choose to sacrifice herself to end Delilah for good and Imogen is forced to move on; Imogen and Laudna could Thelma and Louise their way off a cliff; or maybe someone just points out how unhealthy this all is and they start to be more honest and less codependent and their relationship improves after a lot of hard work. But something has to happen.

Laura and Marisha have, multiple times now, been asked questions about Imogen and Laudna’s relationship that they have answered with varying degrees of “we never really talked about it”, sometimes referring to in-game conversations and sometimes not, and that is both unsurprising and a bad sign of things to come. I don’t know exactly how much out-of-game conversation happened between previous canon relationships that Laura and Marisha have played, but this one desperately needs it—because for three straight campaigns, all we’ve seen is every indication that these are two players who are uniquely ill-suited to play a romance the way either of them would want to.

#cr meta #critical role

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bgyuus · 1 month

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🃜🃚🃖 i can give you love for free 🃁🂭🂺

he has his eyes on you ever since you started working at the casino

mind yall that i have NO IDEA how to play these casino stuff as im not allowed to gamble HAHAHA

cw: aventurine eating you out cuz yes 🎀😻

dressed in jewels tattered on your dress, you moved over to aventurine's lap at the gambling table with your arm around his neck as an encouragement for him to keep winning.

truth is you've been working at this casino ever since you've remembered, entertaining men (and women) whenever they won the gambling game. your job? sit on their laps, act pretty and whisper sweet nothings into their ears, after a few rounds of the game eventually you'll end up in the hotel bed with them- they have to pay you for this of course and you've earned millions from it.

back to the present, aventurine smiled at you, finally having you in his arms as he pulls you more towards him. "looks like i'll be having you tonight as a reward?" he flipped his 2 of aces cards, making the rest of the men around the table groan in frustration. "and that's a wrap folks! mr aventurine wins tonight's round!" the spokesperson said as he pushed all of the chips towards the blond.

you gave him a smile, your fingers pulling the collar of his shirt to you as you whisper in his ear. "you're one lucky man, mr aventurine." your words were enough to make him rile up as he bumps up his thigh, jolting up to your core , making you hold in a moan.

"i'll be taking my present tonight," he bowed at the spokesperson before grabbing you by the waist and heading up to a specially reserved room above the casino. once there, he immediately slammed you against the back of the door, pushing his lips onto yours without hesitation and lets his hands roam freely around your body.

"fuck.. you have no idea how much i've wanted this.." he mumbled, his lips going down to your neck while his hands finds the zipper to your dress and pulled it down, making your dress pool around your ankles. your arms wrapped around his neck as you jumped onto him and wrapped your legs around his waist. "you've been stalking me, huh?" you smirked at him while he carries you over to the bed in the middle of the room.

the man lets out a low chuckle, settling you down beneath him. "been keeping my eyes on you ever since you worked here," his breath was so hot against your skin which made you sigh in content. his lips went down to your stomach, kissing you all over as he reaches further down to your panties.

"may i?"

with a single nod from you, he hooks his fingers around the cloth, pushing them to the side as his tongue pushes against your folds, licking your essence. the sensation he's giving you is too much as you arched your back from the mattress, your fingers tugging on his hair as he pushes his mouth even deeper into your core. your legs involuntarily wrapped around his head as you pulled him in more, feeling his nose bumping against your clit while you let out a moan.

"easy baby," he coos softly as his hands pushes your legs apart from his head, making you look down at him in curiosity. his big hands holds your legs down to the bed as he dives in to your clit again, savouring every single drop of you, not letting them go to waste as you tossed your head back into the plush pillows, panting out profanities. his tongue licks a long strip of your clit, making your legs shake and tremble from the feeling as you feel something drip down your thighs.

"that quick, huh?" aventurine chuckled as he licks your cum that was dripping down your thigh with a smug look on his face. your cheeks turned red at the sight of him as you smack his head in defense. the man laughed at your reaction as he kissed your folds before laying down back on to your chest.

"what are you doing?" you laugh softly, your fingers running through his hair. this interaction between you and him was way different than those other nights of you with other men in bed. with aventurine, this felt.. genuine? honestly, you have no idea what this feels as you haven't felt something like for so long. "what? i can't cuddle with you after eating you out?" he replied sarcastically without looking at your face. this made you laugh again, letting out a content sigh.

"will you let me do this again if i win more rounds?"

he looks up at you, his purple eyes looking into yours. you can't help but chuckle at his question. "if you keep winning like this, then i might just make you my loyal customer."

aventurine snickered at your statement, finding it amusing as he definitely didn't want whatever they have to only be just a one time thing.

"oh i'll keep winning alright, so that i can only have you for myself."

#aventurine's wife #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr

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eskumii · 9 months

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yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere-bnha #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere hcs #incel shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader

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artsyanapink · 11 months

Text

GANONDORF X ZONAI READER ❤️

WOAH! I'm done with this one now. A big smutty fanfiction. Again, Ganon is evil, bad, a villain etc. so buckle up people.

This is a Rauru and Sonia daughter reader. I imagined the oc I drew but there are no descriptions beside long hair one time toward the end so you can put yourself, whatever simp you are. 😊

Minors do not interact please.

Warnings: spoilers if you haven't watched the tears memories in the game, size difference, monster fucking (He is basically one when he transforms), chocking, pain, death (not the reader), little mentions of blood, manhandling, dubious consent, non-con, gloom pleasure (not telling what I mean)

Words: 3755

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The breeze was gentle outside as you sat in the garden with your father and mother, King Rauru and Queen Sonia. Two guards were standing straight, eyes looking cautiously the outskirts for any menace despite peace reigning for as long as you could remember. There were the zonai soldiers your parents built as well. You didn't think anything would happen. There was an accident two weeks ago but you hope nothing similar would ensue.

"I'm happy to hear you are getting better with your power." Your mother expressed her joy gently. "It takes me back to when I was your age. It was a surprise."

"Three people with a tear of time. Now that is interesting." Your father scratched his chin in deep thought. You perked up at this statement. He was talking about Zelda.

"I'll have to find her after tea. I wonder what she wanted to talk about with me."

Sonia put a hand on his. "Don't fret over this, dear." She grabbed her cup, sipping silently. The curved of her lips was not invisible to you and your father. "Just enjoy the present for now, you need it before they come for the matters we talked about."

"Who?" You looked at them curiously. You had no clue. "Don't we already have treaties between the people of the regions?"

"Not all, Y/N." That was enough to understand your father's words. He seemed uncertain as well, so why doing this?

"But—" Your eyes gazed at your still full cup of tea. It was a bad approach in your opinion. "Did you asked them?" He shook his head, making your brows furrowed even more.

"He responded to our demands and I accepted. I'll see to it for an agreement this evening."

"I don't think this is a good idea, father." Your voice was but a murmur. "Didn't they send mordugas two weeks ago to attack? If we hadn't being there—" You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence, closing your eyes a moment. The thought of death scared you and there is a high chance that it would've been a sucess for the Gerudos.

"You are thinking too much my dear." Your mother spoke sweetly with tender eyes. "Why don't we take one step at a time? Let enjoy this morning together for now."

"Sonia's right." Your father continued. "We are well protected and if something doesn't feel right, we'll make more preparations, alright Y/N?"

You nodded weakly. Your troat was dry and no tea could quench your thirst.

°•°•°•°

You now sat in the throne room, next to your mother. Your father was in the center and Zelda next to him on his right, standing. Since the moment the Gerudos arrived, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. This man was a dark mystery but he was making you uncomfortable. Like a prey despite your mother's power coursing through your veins. You were still thinking your father was playing with fire.

"On behalf of the gerudo, for taking so long to accept your repeated invitations, it is our desire to be accepted into the protective embrace of your kingdom. To serve it faithfully." He kneel after the women who accompagnied him, one hand resting on his knee.

"A welcome appeal, Ganondorf. I will accept your vow of featly to the kingdom of Hyrule."

Your eyes widened toward your parent. Was he serious? "Father—" You whispered, bewildered but he exchanged a look that was enough to silence you and sat farter in your throne with a still rigid back.

"I understand that a single male is born to the Gerudo every one hundred years. Receiving such an appeal from you, a hero to his people and a king by birth," Rauru closed his eyes with a faint smile. "Well, it is truly reassuring."

"It is my honour." Ganondorf spoke slowly. With his head hidden in the darkness, you couldn't see his expression. "When your Zonai ancestors first descended upon these lands long, long ago, they must have seemed to be gods. And now you rule as king and have taken a Hyrulean woman as you wife." Your father sound cautious at Ganondorf words, frowning. "As well as birth a daughter of both race." Your eyes met his amber, almost red ones, petrified under the gaze while a phantom grin dressed his lips. You felt a gentle hand touched yours and looked to your mother. Her eyes were forward but the warm of her touch put your mind at ease a little. "Your Majesty has certainly risen above your admirable lineage. Most impressive."

"It is unfortunate that the noble Zonai no longer grace this world with their presence." The sunset passed through the windows of the castle and the light colored the Gerudo in flaming red. You supressed a gasp at the view as his gaze turned a sharp moment to you before turning to the king. "All except you and your sister, that is."

Rauru joins turned paler as he grasped the cold arms of his seat. He had a calm exterior nonetheless. "Even if something were to happen to me, both my kingdom and the peace it brings will endure for generations to come." An ominous silence followed before your father voice was heard again. "Your actions today are appreciated, Ganondorf. I look forward to your futur endeavors. You may leave."

"You Majesty." The man bowed before getting up in one swift motion, taking his sword with him. You saw the eyes of the devil one last time then he was gone, Gerudo women following behind him.

You heartbeat was fast against your chest as your eyes were fixed on the double doors at the end of the room. You didn't hear what Zelda had said, losing yourself in your own mind for a minute. Your father's words were short. "I am well aware of his evil nature. For that reason, and others, I want him close. It will be easier to keep an eye on him."

"I still think this is not a good decision, father." Rauru's eyes turned to you with slight surprise. "Something bad is going to happen. I sense it and it's unbearable." You clenched the tear that was neatly placed where your heart was. "I doubt Ganondorf is duped enough to stay tranquilly without attacking. He did it once, who said he won't do it a second time?"

Sonia, your mother, was stroking your back slowly, drawing circles to calm you while he got up and advanced toward you. "Y/N, I am touched you worry so much about us and the people here but this is nothing to worry about. Everything will be alright." He smiled, almost hugging your form. You closed your eyes.

"If anything happens, we will be prepared." Your mother finished, looking at him, then at Zelda. You followed her gaze, watching the girl sending you her own uncertained smile.

°•°•°•°

A week went by and Zelda talked to you about her own concerns regarding the Gerudo king. His name was familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. You both agreed that something was wrong at least. It made you feel less paranoiac that you weren't thinking alone.

Outside of your worries, you practiced more of your power with your mother and were getting better at it. You were able to stop time on bigger objects and for a longer period of time. She was proud of you, and your father was as well.

A month passed before Zelda had send you a letter to meet her one night with chances to talk deeper in the matters that you were both preoccupied with. When you reached the exterior halls however, that's when you felt that this meeting wasn't normal. She had being quiet for the whole walk, even with the both of you alone. You looked at the scenery from the ruins before you gazed behind your shoulder and turned to her. "We are alone now. What did you want to talk about with me, Zelda?" A distorted smile showed on her lips, taking you aback. "Zelda?"

"It's was so easy. You are such a naive girl." You were too much in shock to be embarrassed at her statement. Her head leaned on the side, almost too much to be comfortable. A sharp object slide from her hand suddenly and you exclaimed in fright when it flew toward you. What you discerned was a knife stopped milimeters from your face.

You hadn't use your power—

"Oh my, I am surprise to hear you say such a thing." Sonia appeared around the corner.

"Mother!"

Her eyes weren't cold but the warmth was gone, slowly advancing toward Zelda, not taking her gaze off the girl. "I was wondering if I was seeing two at the same time, being in one place and another far away in such a short moment is pretty strange, don't you think? You did play your game pretty well." Your mother's power was still on then grabbed the weapon and tossed it on the ground gracefully. "But if you're not her, that means you are a puppet of Ganondorf."

You watched with wide eyes, stunned. "A puppet?" Did that mean that the conversations you had weren't with her? Were any?

The body decomposed as the marionette laughed mischievously. Red and purple formed on it until there wasn't anyone there anymore but a weird sent in the air.

You watched wary for anything abnormal and when you saw nothing, you let your guard down. You sighed, turning around to Sonia, wide eyes at the person standing behind her. You hadn't time to call for her as your mother was stabbed in the back, gasping in pain and surprise. The killer snatched the tear on your parent's necklace and she crumbled to the floor, blood on her white dress. Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes.

"Mother!" You rushed to her, holding her body for dear life. "Please don't be dead. I'm begging you. Don't die, please!" Your powers weren't strong enough to turn back time and you hated yourself for it. But you despised even more the man in front of your kneeling form.

Grin wide, his chest vibrated as he roared maniacally. Ganondorf clutched the tear in a vice grip as it pulsed with power. "Finally it is mine." The tear materialized on his forehead with gold and the ground started shaking under your form. You held your mother tighter as dark mist surrounded the man, the scream of victory the only hint he was still there. You hid your view from it, your head in the crook of your parent's neck as you waited to wake up from this horrible nightmare. It wasn't real. It could've not been.

You were abruptly gripped by your dress, feet dangling off the stone ground, your hands instinctively reaching to get out of his hold.

"You can struggle all you want, princess." A dark voice grunted, sounding amused. "Nobody is here to save you now, not even your developing power of time."

Eyes wide, they were met with a changed man. His title of Demon King was fitting more now than ever with his monstrous appearance. His scleras became black, contrasting with the same eyes colour as before. The hair grew longer but the places where two horns had emerged. His robes were created of the same stuff that came out when he stole the tear, a similar substance that Zelda, whoever it was the real one or not, talked to you about from her own era.

He was demonic.

"Your foolish king took for granted the godlike power you had all in your hands, not using it to its full potential." His eyes slitted and your heartbeat quickened. While you felt overpowered by his stare alone, his grip on you was making things more difficult. You tried to kick him in vain, getting but a disorted chuckle in response. "Your mother is merely the first victim of his arrogance and she won't be the last, believe me."

The sounds of the doors resonated and tears cascaded down your cheeks at the new voice. "Y/N!" Your father was here and by the lighter sounds of feet, Zelda was as well. "Let her go, Ganondorf." He growled, barring his teeth in anger as his third eye opened.

"You tried to control me, Rauru." The changed Gerudo spat, but smirked nonetheless. He was in a better position than all of you. His grip was now on your throat, body turned toward them and they heard a gasp for air while you looked desperately at your father and friend. "You will die knowing that you fail!" He exclaimed darkly, then gazed at you struggling. "As for her, I have other plans in mind."

"You bastard!" You chocked without thinking, grasping for anything while extending your hand toward your parent. You were losing consciousness.

"What foul language for a Zonai princess." He grinned wickedly and looked to the king. "That will need punishment, don't you think, Rauru?"

Pain started to course through your body and you whimpered loudly, regretting your decision. It felt like it was burning, but weak now, it was easier to not do anything instead of fighting against the hold Ganondorf had on your neck.

Zelda was mouth opened. "I recognize it now, it's the gloom!"

Rauru looked horrified and helpless while the Gerudo was smug, an evil smirk reaching his ears. "What are you going to do now, king?" He emphasized on the last term. Darkness was creeping around your body until it reached your chest. It stopped growing but it was more painful than earlier.

"Please, stop! It hurts!" Your cries made your father's heart clenched, seeing you trashed around feebly. He should have listened to you. Maybe then you wouldn't be in the grasp of this awful individu. Maybe then, Sonia would've not died.

Ganondorf threw his newfound magic toward them with his free hand, Rauru immediately protecting himself, Zelda and your mother but you saw it wasn't enough. The shield was not stronger than the attack and dread filled your guts when you heard your friend teleported the three of them away, a guilty look in her eyes.

Your lips quivered, wanting to curl in a ball as the situation kicked in. You were alone now with this monster. The man huffed in annoyance, dropping you without a care, resulting in scratches on your hands and knees. You winced and choked on air, your respiration slowly going back to normal after the gloom disappeared. Watching him in a mix of fear and hatred, he send you a curled smirk in response. "This world as it is now is doomed and you will be the first to see it crumbled."

"You won't get away with this." You spat, tears slowly drying.

"Oh, but I will." Ganondorf seized your wrist, turning you around so you were back to his chest and Hyrule in your peripheral vision, a blood red moon high in the sky. Monsters of all size were attacking, destroying everything and killing everyone while people screams filled the air, making you cry again. You averted your eyes but he wasn't having it. He gripped your chin with his whole hand, his breath on your ear, making you watched. "I am the king now. After all these years of been belittled by your people, seen as nothing but lowly thieves—I am in control."

You gritted your teeth. "You're just a monster."

His wicked laugh rang in your ears, making you shuddered with closed eyes while your ears and cheeks redened, feeling his face next to yours. "You're hurting me now, princess." He mocked, claws stroking your face with slow movements. They descended in the line of your breasts, then to your stomach, resting in the middle and you tried to trash away like you were just touched by fire. Fortunately the gloom was nowhere on your body but his hand had replaced the burning feeling. You looked at him in terror behind your shoulder when your body was bend on the rock debris. "Now, let's see how powerful this new body is."

"Ganondorf—" Your dress was pulled over your waist, dark clawed hands running over your bottom. "Stop this!" His grin only widened at your small voice.

"Pleading for mercy, princess?" He dryly humped against you, grunting like an animal as your cheeks flushed in embarrassement. His chest was touching you, chuckles making it vibrated against your back. "So pathetic. How I would enjoy this blast Rauru seeing your crumbled form because of me. I will savor breaking you until you are nothing but a slave." He groaned silently with half lidded glowing eyes, bit your ear and then pushed you farther down. Gloom invaded from the cracks of the ruins, flowing up your legs and arms until it stayed, clutching your members for restraining any movement. You whimpered against the substance. It was like stone was holding you captive now despite feeling liquid.

Ganondorf undress his robes, his length standing tall. "No, please—"

"Don't try to hide it for me, princess. Your body is responding very well to my power." He smacked one of your cheeks, the skin getting pink at the action and a pained moan leaving your lips. He stroke his member with slow motions before alligning himself to your entrance.

"Don't—Ganondorf. I'm begging you!" You felt helpless and vulnerable against his strong mass. He slid all the way in, creating another sound from you.

"Zonai are truly differents, but Zonai and Hylian?" Ganondorf straightened his back, looking down at your petite form with evil intent. You tried to push him out but it only brought pain. "I'm going to mold your body for me only. My own pet." The man cackled, sensing you clenched around him. You were suddenly feeling warmer as he continued to drilled down into your hole. "Would you like that? I do relished the idea of the Zonai princess reduced to be a lowly servant." The gloom dissipated from one leg as Ganondorf grabbed it, dangling from each rough thrusts he was inflicting. Your moans got louder, the urge to hide your eyes from him as the position was switched. That is, if it wasn't for the dark substance. Glowing ambers stared at your quivering form in amusement, watching your expression slowly turning lustful. "Finally." He pumped harder, your leg on his naked shoulder, gasping every now and then. Sensing struggle from your arms, the gloom disappeared from there as well. The man was slightly surprised when you put them behind him, or you tried, with how massive he was.

"Father—Help me." You cried for help, your brain still conscient as you hold the man. You felt disgusting for falling for such act from a monster such as Ganondorf. However, your body, although new to this, was accepting the pleasure with excitement. A tear fell down and he swipped it out before crashing his mouth on yours, canines grazing your lips and biting, drawing blood. Both hands were on each side of your head as the devil continued to fuck your entrance, juices flowing down the inside of your hips. His tongue entered after, devoring you until air became a need.

Ganondorf let go, gazing at your flushed and sweaty form. He turned your face to him. "Such a disgraceful expression you have on you, princess." He smiled evilly while leaving and entering swiftly until the Gerudo was all the way again. "Fits more a slut than royalty."

"Ngh—!"

"What do you say to your king, princess?"

You let out a whine, your head thrown back from the force. "N—No."

That wouldn't do. Ganondorf became rougher, a dark and serious expression on his face as he took your two legs to put on his shoulders and his own body mass crushing your smaller one. His shaft was pulsating inside and he groaned in his actions, loving how you clenched him like that so tightly. Gloom cascaded down your breast, applying a burning touch to your sensitive parts and the Gerudo smile returned at your voice. Your lips parted, tongue almost out while your whole body shook at each powerful trust.

"What a view" he gripped your troat again, lighter than earlier, and pressed you to the wall, face on the rock and his member pumping inside without mercy. He watched the sight of your buttcheeks rolling in pleasure, slapping them again. Your body moved like a doll, whinning at being stretched by his size while juice dressed his lenght. Ganondorf looked at it, chest rising in evil laughter. "Are you already at your limit, my dear?"

Your mouth let out silenced noises and he arched an eyebrow. "What was that?" He thrusted rougher all the way after been out. You spasmed. "Speak to your master." Ganondorf growled.

It was difficult to open your eyes while the power of his thrusts were inhuman. Your back arched uncomfortably, feeling close to his chest as your head now rest on his shoulder blade. The man huffed in annoyance, taking your waist instead as you continue to bounce on his shaft. "No matter. You are nothing now but a slave—my servant and you will bowed before me." A smug smirk dressed on his lips. "We are already close to that, aren't we, slut?"

"Ganondorf—Ngh—Yes!"

He had break you. Smiling triumphaly, the Gerudo ran a hand through your long hair, claws thugging in a vice grip. "Yes, let me hear you. Scream who you belong to!"

"I belong to you!" You moaned but he entered slower and harder into your entrance.

His breath tickled your ear while you stared lost at a red Hyrule. The man brought you closer to him in a standing position, his member going deeper. His free hand roamed your body hungrily, the other's fingers inside your mouth while the gloom was helping, pulsing on your chest and neck. Ganondorf grunted suddenly. "Now take it all."

You screamed when his essense flew inside, your stomach getting a little bigger at the amount. "So—much!" Your eyes rolled back before you fell limp. If it wasn't for him holding you, you would have met the ground. More gushed at your feet.

"What a waste." Ganondorf snarled at the liquid, fingers pressing at your entrance to block the rest. "But I use more than once what belongs to me. Say goodbye to your dear father, princess, because I am not done with you."

"Far from it actually."

#totk #totk rauru #totk sonia #totk zelda #totk ganondorf #hydrated ganon #his demon form is so hot #demon king ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #ganon x reader #monster fucker #monster #ganondilf #ganondorf #ganon #gloom

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heehoonieluvs · 9 months

Text

The locker rooms

Basketball captain Heeseung x reader

Slight angst, fluff, smut

The way that the members are depicted in this story has nothing to do with how they really are or how I feel they are. It is all solely for the storyline so please bear that in mind 🫶

Summary: Heeseung was the captain of the school’s basketball team. Everyone loved him and girls were desperate to get with him. But his eyes were only on you, his precious girlfriend

Warnings: MDNI, cursing, pet names, jealousy, locker room sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, choking, exhibition (please let me know if I need to add any more 🤍)

F/N = female name

Series masterlist

Masterlist

Your boyfriend Heeseung was the man that every woman dreamed about. He was quite literally perfection and he was aware. When he started his rise to become the MVP of the basketball team, girls would constantly throw themselves at him and he was happy to entertain them for his own needs before leaving them right after. He gained a reputation of sleeping with whoever caught his eye for the night and moving onto the next one the day after. Heeseung knew that he was the shit and he used it to his advantage.

But his games came to an end once his eyes fell on you and they haven’t faltered since. He was in his 2nd year when you had caught his eye and he thought you had just moved. Turns out you were attending the same university the whole time but never bumped into him since you actually went to lectures and didn’t have any interests in sports.

Of course you were aware of the notorious player in your year but you didn’t have any sort of curiosity to find out more. You were here for education and to hang out with your close friends, not get into any entanglements with a boy who ran through girls like a marathon.

Heeseung first saw you when he was by his locker and accidentally bumped into your tiny figure as he turned around. The force caused you to fall back and drop your books which scattered everywhere. He apologised when he pulled you up carefully and picked up your belongings on the floor. But as you two locked eyes, it was like the world around him stopped. His pulse was racing from the way you looked up at him with round puppy eyes and a slight pout from the pain you were feeling on your backside.

Before he could say anything, you quickly thanked him and raced to your lecture with bright red cheeks of embarrassment.

From that day on, Heeseung was determined to get to know you. He even started to turn up to lectures just to get a glimpse of you. However, you mentioned multiple times that you weren’t interested, even when your friends teased you about taming the playboy of the campus.

He followed you around like a lost puppy, asking questions about your interests like your favourite foods or songs etc. You weren’t heartless though so you kept up the conversations with him and it was nice. You just turned down all of his chances of flirting with you and it did not help that his fangirls were constantly glaring at you during these interactions.

His adorable chasing lasted for about 4 months before he gathered the courage to ask you out on a date. The offer was an ice cream date which you could not turn down, and the night ended with him showing you his basketball skills in an open court.

The two of you had the court to yourselves and he showed you how to shoot a ball before “challenging” you to a 1:1

At the end of your date, he walked you home and asked you out on a second date with a kiss on the forehead and the rest is history.

Fast forward to now, a year later and you two are the most adored couple of the campus. No one would’ve thought that Heeseung would be able to settle during his uni days but seeing how he was around you, no one would’ve thought that he was the same person as a year ago.

Obviously he still had the odd few fangirls that were convinced he would leave you for them but his sharp tongue was quick to shut him down. You’d tell him about the hurtful things some girls would say to you since it was healthy for you to be open about your problems with him and vice versa. And every time someone would try to bring you down, he would tell you just how much you meant to him and that he would sort out the people that ruined your day. Whatever he did was very effective though since they didn’t bother you again and walked past the two of you with their heads down.

Another thing that came as a shock was how clingy he was to you. He’d always find a way to be close to you and there was always an excuse behind every form of skin ship shown. You weren’t complaining though, his bambi eyes were way too irresistible to say no to

For the last 2 weeks, Heeseung had been training hard for the next basketball match against the uni’s biggest rival. If you thought Heeseung was bad before he met you… there’s nothing that could prepare you for the captain of the opposing team, Chad (literally the only name I could think of that worked)

You were a gorgeous girl and Heeseung wanted to keep you hidden from everyone. But he needed you to be there for him as his good luck charm, so he was in a dilemma of flaunting you as his beautiful girlfriend in front of everyone, or keeping you safe from Chad. Either way, he wasn’t gonna let him get to his head and focused on practice with the goal of meeting you after and making out with you for the rest of the day

You were already waiting for him outside of the changing rooms as Heeseung emerged with his damp hair dripping everywhere. Just like your usual routine, you grabbed the towel on his shoulder and dried his hair. After you did it for him one time after a tiring practice, he’d purposely leave his hair dripping wet after practice so you could do it for him. He loved how delicate you were with him. And he could also take the time to admire your beautiful concentrated face up close

He had a soft smile on his face as he watched you struggle to reach him. You pulled him down by the shoulders so that you no longer had to tip toe. As his hair got more dry, he gently grabbed onto your hands to stop your movements and give you a sweet kiss. He had been waiting all day for this kiss and nothing was going to stop him. Not even the rowdy group of boys that filtered out of the changing room, teasing him for the sweet PDA.

“How was my baby’s day today?” He mumbled against your lips

“It was kind of stressful. We got assigned another project but the lecturer still hasn’t given us feedback on the one we just submitted. So I have no idea how I’m supposed to improve when no critiques have been given” you pouted

“My poor baby. You work so hard and I’m so proud of you. How about we get some ice cream on the way to mine? Just as a treat for my smart princess” his thumb stroked your cheek as he rubbed your noses together

“I’d love that bambi”

Time skip

You were walking from your third lecture with your friends and decided to grab some food from the café. Two of them wanted to put their bags in their locker, so you and your other friend carried on to get a table first.

As you turned a corner, you both saw Heeseung leaning on a brick wall looking fine as hell. But he was accompanied by F/N aka the biggest homewrecker of the campus. Her hobby was to steal taken men and ruin relationships for the fun of it. She had always taken an interest in your boyfriend but no matter how many times he’d rejected her advances, she’d always come back as desperate as ever

It was like you were heaven sent when Heeseung saw you walking towards them. His once annoyed face was replaced by the sweetest smile at the sight of you and it melted your heart every time.

“My pretty, you’re here! I’m sorry I kept you waiting bubba” he embraced you and started giving you pecks, completely ignoring the existence of F/N who was staring daggers in your direction

“Um hellooo? I was talking to Heeseung thank you” she interrupted

Your friend quickly spoke up “Piss off F/N, he doesn’t want anything to do with you”

“And who the hell are you?” F/N spoke to your friend with a look of disgust “As I was saying Heeseung, we should hang out again like old times, we used to have so much fun before you started hanging with her. I know you miss the things we did together. I can even show you if you need reminding” she made eye contact with you as she said the last sentence

Heeseung grabbed your waist almost as to hint that you should go. But F/N picked up on the look of confusion on your face so she carried on

“Oh you didn’t know? Heeseung and I constantly slept with each other before you guys got together. Even whilst you started talking. It’s a shame though, we really did have some good times together. Especially after his basketball games”

“Shut the fuck up F/N” Heeseung gritted out. His heart broke as he felt you shrink into yourself

“Why are you being so secretive about it Heeseung? Do you not want your precious girlfriend to know about you slipping into my bed during the times that you were trying to woo her?” She taunted

“No F/N we didn’t do shit so stop lying”

“Why would I lie though? She deserves to know. I thought you guys never kept secrets because it’s “healthy for the relationship”” she quoted with her fingers

“Stop being so desperate F/N. I would’ve thought that after the amount of times I’ve told you that I’m not interested in you that you’d take the hint and leave us the fuck alone” with that he interlocked your hands and took you away from the scene and your friend followed behind

As he took you out of the building, your friend said that she’d give you two some privacy and left to get a table for some food

When she left, Heeseung instantly brought you in for a massive bear hug and started kissing and nuzzling the crown of your head.

“Are you ok baby? Please don’t listen to her” he mumbled into your hair. He was panicking at the thought of you believing the shit F/N had to say

“I’m not bothered about what you had with her before we started dating. But tell me though Heeseung, did you still sleep with her while we were talking to each other?”

“I swear to you princess that nothing happened after started talking to you. I do admit that F/N did try it with me at Jay’s party but I pushed her away the whole night. I would never play you like that. Please believe me” he started to tear up and you brushed his cheeks

“Oh bambi don’t cry. I completely trust you okay? As long as you are honest with me, I can’t ask for more”

“Thank you baby. Let me take you out for some food instead yea? I wanna forget what just happened and only focus on you”

“Ok let’s go! Can we get a McDonald’s?” You bounced enthusiastically, making his chuckle at your excitement

“Of course we can puppy”

At the basketball game the next day

You had just found your seats with you friends after giving your boyfriend his much needed “good luck kisses”. The game hadn’t even started but your knees were already bouncing from the nerves. Of course you knew your uni’s team would win but you were also aware of how Heeseung wasn’t exactly fond of Chad, who he was currently having a stare off with

The two of them stood face to face, Heeseung looked with a blank stare whilst Chad had a smirk on his

“Is that your girl with your jersey? Doesn’t she look so divine? I’d love to get a taste of her once you decide that you’re bored of her” he taunted right in Heeseung’s face

Heeseung knew that he was just saying it to get a reaction and hopefully get him benched, so he decided to keep his cool and wait to fuck him up during the game.

The game started and Heeseung was no doubt in the zone. Chad’s comments had fired up his adrenaline. Both teams were doing extremely well and it made you even more nervous to the point of needing to throw up

When it got to half time, Heeseung went to grab a drink and looked around the crowd. You waved at him to grab his attention and when he saw you looking all adorable, he smiled and threw you a wink. Seeing his jersey displaying that you belonged to him caused a bit of a stir in his shorts but he had to get his focus back on the game before he’d decide to take you away and fuck you into oblivion.

“Fucking hell Heeseung’s so fucking hot. Oh the things I’ll do to him after this. Oh, hi Y/N” you and your friends hear from the row behind

It was so obvious who the voice belonged to so you decided to just keep your eyes forward. However your friends turned around in disgust to see a smug F/N giggling with her minions.

“Get a life F/N. You act like he wants you anywhere near him” one of them spat

F/N just rolled her eyes and said “Yea right. Before you little friend decided to brainwash him into getting in a relationship with her, he would be all over me after each game. And I’ll prove that he’s still the same”

Your friends also noticed how F/N had also been wearing Heeseung’s number on her jersey, except hers was clearly a shitty knock off. Either way, she was glad to flaunt it off as if she was his golden girl. They were absolutely outraged and one of them snapped

“You’re absolutely disgusting F/N. Do you have no self respect? Not only do you harass Y/N and Heeseung but you speak about him like he’s some kind of meat. You’re never gonna get in between them because they actually love each other and don’t give a shit about you. You go on about Heeseung apparently being all over you before he was in a relationship but lets face it, he only went back to you because he knows you’re easy. Stop embarrassing yourself and move on”

You weren’t a fan of the commotion surrounding you but at the same time, you were so grateful for your friends. They weren’t the type to take shit from people and they were most certainly not gonna let that bitch upset you

F/N and her little gang were left absolutely speechless and her face turned red in embarrassment as the people around her started to whisper and laugh at her. With a scoff, she got up and left, leaving behind her friends who didn’t know what to say or do

“Are you alright Y/N? We’re sorry that we embarrassed you like that. I just can’t stand her upsetting you like that”

“I’m absolutely fine you guys. Thank you for sticking up for me, I don’t know what I’d do without you” you grabbed their hands and gave them a squeeze

Maybe it was the fact that the gloomy cloud had finally left the court but the game ended with a win for your uni. You were absolutely ecstatic when Heeseung shot the final 3 pointer before the buzzer went off. Your boyfriend grabbed the trophy and was carried in the air by his team and it made you smile so wide seeing how happy he was.

When they put him back down, you ran down the steps and met him at the barricade where he was waiting with open arm. He picked you up with ease and lifted you over the barricade to wrap your legs around his waist. You grabbed his face and kissed him hard to show how proud you were. If it wasn’t for his teammates cheering at you, the two of you would’ve carried on making out right there.

As he kept you held in his arms, he pressed your foreheads together and stared at your swollen lips

“Do you wanna take a shower with me?” He said cheekily

And obviously you said yes who wouldn’t

In the changing rooms

Heeseung was currently sucking bruises onto your neck and collar bone whilst pinning you to the changing room lockers. You legs were wrapped around his waist again and if gave him the perfect angle to grind into you.

“You’re gonna have to keep it down my pretty girl if you don’t want to get caught. Or maybe that’s what you want? I’ll gladly fuck you in the middle of the court with an audience if it meant that everyone knows you’re mine and I’m yours.”

He carefully placed you down and lifted your (his) jersey to put his hands down your shorts. His fingers ran down your pussy to dip into your soaking hole. You let out a moan as he took his wet fingers and circled your clit with them.

“Oh yes moan for me pretty baby. Moan for daddy. That’s a good baby” he cooed into your open mouth. Your breath fanning his face as he started to finger you vigorously.

“God you’re so fucking wet baby. I can hear your delicious juices squirting around my fingers”

His fingers curled up to hit your g spot and you were convinced that your shorts were completely soaked at this point. You brought you hand to the front of his basketball shorts and started to stroke his painful hard on at the same speed as his fingers inside you

As you rubbed each other off, he demanded you to open your mouth and stick your tongue out. When you did, he instantly stuck his out and licked up your tongue. His mouth wrapped around it and sucked it into his mouth. Both of your hands sped up as he bobbed his mouth on your tongue and the feeling made you moan even louder than before.

As your tongues were fighting for dominance, he pulled down his shorts as well as yours before he carried on fingering you. His pulsing dick felt so warm as your wrapped your tiny hand around it and started pumping.

When you got to the top, you brought your thumb to his leaking tip, circling the slit. That caused him to let go of your tongue and growl out

“Fuck yes baby. Get on your knees, daddy needs to fuck your throat.”

You quickly kneeled down and started to lick his massive length from the bottom, all the way to the tip and dipping your tongue to gather his delicious precum. He couldn’t control his moaning as you carried on licking him and sucking on his tip.

Without any warning, you took his entire length into your throat, deepthroating his entire cock. Heeseung’s knees buckled and he leaned forward onto the lockers which pushed him further into your warm throat. The pleasure was so extreme and he couldn’t get enough of it. He made the mistake of looking down and seeing you look up at him with watery puppy eyes. God those eyes. So round and full of faux innocence which was a complete contrast to the vulgar act you were performing on him.

You were addicted to hearing his moans and wanted to hear more. So you started to finger yourself and let his dick fall out of your mouth. He was about to whine from the loss of your warmth but instead he choked on a moan as you sucked his heavy balls into your mouth. You stuck your tongue out to run over the underside of them and sucked them both back in. His balls felt so good in your mouth and you wanted him to feel even more pleasure so you brought your other hand up to jerk him off. Hearing the gorgeous sounds fall out of his mouth from the pleasure your were giving him made you speed up the fingers that you pumped into yourself.

Your moans vibrated on his full balls which resulted in him gripping onto your roots

“Oh suck my balls harder puppy. Good girl. Suck your favourite lolly” he grabbed your cheeks and grinded onto your face “Is sucking daddy’s balls making you feel horny pretty baby? You soaking them tiny fingers that could never stretch you as well as daddy’s?”

You started to rub your clit and went back to lick up his length before taking him deep in your throat again

“I’m gonna cum puppy. Daddy’s gonna shoot his cum down your pretty throat. Be a good girl and swallow everything daddy gives you” he moaned out. His hips would not slow down as his thighs started shaking. And with that, he let out the most monstrous growl as his hot cum sprayed into your warm cavern. Being the good puppy you were, you swallowed every drop, not wanting any of the liquid gold to go to waste.

He slipped his dick out of your mouth and bent down to kiss you harshly, not giving a shit that he could taste his cum mixed with your saliva. He then took your hand that you used to finger yourself and spread them right in front of your face. As he stared into your eyes, he took the digits into his mouth to suck off your essence. When the taste landed on his tongue, you watched as his eyes rolled back at your sweet taste. His tongue licked at the base where your pointer and middle finger were connected and flicked his tongue the same way he would between your legs. He then leaned towards you so that you could both lick at each other’s tongues whilst sharing the taste of your juices.

He couldn’t wait any longer so he picked you up and hooked his legs over his broad shoulders. Your pussy was right in front of him as you adjusted your balance in the air. You trusted that he wouldn’t drop you but you quickly grabbed onto the top of the lockers to steady yourself.

Heeseung just needed to take a bit of time to admire your soaking pussy. He could see you clench from the cold breeze, which just hypnotised him to just ravish you

Instantly, he licked up your juices and sucked at your dripping opening. He started to motorboat your pussy which covered his entire face in your wetness, and he could not care less about the mess. He slurped and moaned loudly at your taste like you were his favourite meal (which you were).

“Daddy suck on my clit. Please!” you whined out

“Such good manners baby”

And with that he took your clit into his mouth and sucked as hard as he could. You screamed from the feeling and his moans intensified it. From the way his eyes were rolling back and his loud moans, you’d think he was the one getting off right now (and he definitely was). You couldn’t stop your hips as you grabbed his hair with your right hand and humped his face. If it wasn’t for your boyfriend’s strength, you were sure you would’ve lost your balance as your left arm on top of the lockers was trying hard to keep you up. He used his strength to slightly bounce you up and down his tongue

“Finger yourself for daddy. Be my good puppy. That’s right”

You started off by rubbing your clit as his tongue circled your hole and then you brought your fingers to pump into yourself right in front of his face.

If there was one thing that Heeseung would want to watch for the rest of his life, it would be you right now. He could hear and see your juices squirting up close, as well as your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure as you got yourself off. His tongue met your fingers as they pumped into your hole and he caught every drop into his mouth. He could see you clench even more around your tiny digits which told him that you were close to cumming

“Are you gonna cum my princess. You gonna squirt in my face. Do it baby. Squirt all over me”

You were at the point of screaming as you curled your fingers into your g spot and pumped fast seeing his tongue hanging out, ready for your cum. The feeling in your stomach was similar feeling of needing to pee and you weren’t gonna stop.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck DADDY YES”

You quickly started to rub your clit and a shower of your juices sprayed all over him

“Fuck yes baby squirt your juices. So fucking sexy” he moaned as your juices drowned him

If that wasn’t enough, his mouth returned to your pussy, drinking everything up as you carried on rubbing yourself. It seemed like your squirt was never ending as he slurped everything up. He carried on helping you to ride out your orgasm and took his time to lick all of your pussy before carefully lowering you.

He grabbed you and sat down on the bench in front of the lockers with you sat in his lap. He was careful to not touch your clit as it was extremely sensitive. The two of you shared sweet kisses as he rocked you side to side. In between kisses, he told you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how well you did for him, you name it. His words made you feel like a goddess and he made sure that you knew your worth.

“*kiss* Such a good baby *kiss* You did so well for me puppy *kiss* daddy’s so proud of you *kiss* I love you so much *kiss* you deserve the world *kiss*”

His sweet words made you feel so overwhelmed with love. You could barely respond as you were still twitching from your orgasm. But as you caught your breath, you pulled him into a deep kiss.

Heeseung moaned into your kiss, feeling himself get even harder than he was before. What you didn’t know was that you squirting in his face almost made him cum untouched and that was something that never happened to him before. Only you had the ability to make him feel so much pleasure without even touching his cock.

“I need to fuck you baby. Can I? Will you let me fuck you?” He moaned desperately into the kiss

“Yes fuck me daddy”

He wasted no time before carrying you to the bench in the middle of the changing room and slipping his whole cock inside you. He lost all self control as your wetness encaged his entire dick. So he started to pound into you like a dog in heat. His mouth hung wide open and a slight bit of drool slipped out the corner. He was completely drunk on your pussy and there was nothing that would stop him from fucking into you so deep.

The two of you were quite literally screaming from pleasure when he brought his left leg onto the bench and started drilling into you deeper. Now, the both of you had drool seeping out of your mouths and your eyes were rolled back

You could feel his hand come up to wrap around your throat and he pressed down slightly. It wasn’t enough to cut off any oxygen but it most definitely heightened your pleasure.

From outside, F/N was wondering in the corridor. She was waiting to find Heeseung and finally get her hands on him. Your friends want to humiliate her in the crowd? She was gonna get you back by seducing you boyfriend and getting in his pants. Her pacing came to a halt as she heard squeaking and moaning coming from the boy’s changing room. She wasn’t going to act like she’s never been in there before because she actually went there more than she went to lectures.

When she entered the changing room she was met with what could only be described as a live porn show. Heeseung was pounding fast and deep into you with his hand wrapped around your throat. You had your head thrown back and eyes rolled as the two of you screamed in pleasure. At the sound out her gasping, you and Heeseung looked in the direction of the sound.

When you both made eye contact with F/N, Heeseung smiled before giving you a kiss

“Should we give our visitor a nice show princess?”

At that, he hooked your legs around his waist and brought both of his knees onto the bench. He pressed down on you as he started to fuck into you even hard than before (if that was possible). Your moans mixed together and the skin slapping almost made you forget that F/N was watching this all happening.

She didn’t say anything as she ran out of the locker room with tears and snot streaming down her face.

“That’s what you get for being a bitch to my girl” Heeseung shouted at her before the door slammed shut.

Your eyes widened and you let out a small laugh at him

“She deserves it though. Trying to mess with us and making you upset. Did she say something to you during the game? I saw her behind you and when she left, you looked a bit upset baby” his hips carried on moving but it was a lot steadier than before. His eyes searched for yours as his thumb stroked the high point of your cheekbone.

“It was nothing she hadn’t already said before but her comments still hurt. The way she was talking about the things you guys used to do made me feel a bit shit I can’t lie. I know none of this is your fault since this was all before me, but her constant reminders cloud my mind with thoughts that you two have history together and I hate it” you eyes welled with tears as you confessed you feelings

You closed your eyes as he leaned down to press tiny kisses to each of your eye lids. He let out a sigh before speaking lowly

“Oh baby I wish you had told me that she was taunting you so much. As for me and F/N’s past, I wouldn’t exactly call it history as there was nothing behind it. I can understand that whatever I say can’t just wash out whatever she had told you, but I will replace those thoughts with the most amazing memories of the two of us. Don’t fill your pretty mind with her pathetic words okay?” His voice was so soft and sweet, a complete contrast to how he spoke to F/N earlier and it made you feel so warm inside how he changed to a cute little bambi around you.

His sweet words almost made you forget that he was still stuffing you completely but he suddenly thrusted deep into your g spot. You let out a squeal from surprise and he chuckled your reaction with the most loving smile.

Not even a second later, his face turned lustful again and he started fucking you forcefully.

“I’m gonna fuck you again and again till you can’t scream anything but my name puppy. You won’t be able to think about anything but how amazing I make you feel from my cock”

The two of you fucked like rabbits without a care in the world about someone else walking in

You were both getting closer to cumming and he brought his face closer to you. Your open mouths let out moans into each other as you held gazes. His eyes expressed so much passion and love for you and you returned the same energy back to him

“Fuck! Cum with me baby. Let me feel you squeeze my dick. Milk me with your perfect pussy. I’m all yours baby and you’re mine. Oh fuck!”

You both moaned deafeningly as your orgasms washed over you. His warm seed filled you up and his hips stilled from the intensity. No doubt, anyone walking past would’ve heard everything and taken the hint to leave instantly. As you both calmed down, you shared more sweet kisses

“You did so good baby. How are you feeling? *kiss*”

“I feel so good bambi. You make me feel so good. Thank you baby. I love you so much” you panted

“I love you too puppy. So much more than you’ll ever know” he nuzzled your nose before leaning down for a cuddle

“How about we go for another round whilst we clean up in the shower and then we can head back to mine for a takeaway?” He offered with the cutest smile

“I’d love that bambi. Dinner’s on me though, you need a treat to celebrate your big win”

“Nonsense. I’m not letting my princess pay. You can reward me by sitting on my face tonight”

“Bambi!”

Author’s note: I’m not gonna lie I was completely flustered whilst writing this fic 🥵 but basketball Hee is just so hot 😩

I hope you enjoyed this post! I do apologise that it’s quite rushed though 😭

Thank you for taking the time to read my work and please look forward to more in the future 🩵

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