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rikiiluvr · 3 months ago

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— 𝙈𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙔

☆ nishimura riki x afab!reader

☆ wc: 2.2k

☆ WARNINGS: SMUT (MDNI), unprotected sex (pls don't), mentions of drinking, riding, making out, teasing.

THE last few months have been a pain in the ass. why? because your frustratingly hot roommate won't get the hint that you like him or that you’re even interested in him. you can’t tell if he’s pretending or if he’s genuinely as oblivious as he seems to be. you lie on your back on the floor of your bedroom while staring up at the ceiling and thinking of ways to try and make him notice you more.

you’ve tried flirting with him, which painfully backfired as he saw it as friendly banter and flirted back with you but quickly dismissing you as a friend when someone noticed the two of you. you tried dressing up nicer, or cooking for the two of you but it always ended with him teasing you about how you looked a little better than a homeless person or not eating your food saying it might give him food poisoning. you have to admit though, his words did hurt. just when you were on the brink of giving up, an idea flared in your mind.

you’d just have to try the oldest trick in the book, wearing something tight, seductive, and revealing. It had to work right? you chewed on your bottom lip, still contemplating your choices but none the less decided on continuing with it anyway. you got off your bed and trudged to your closet, you rummaged through all kinds of clothes before settling on a small, lace night dress you’d bought on a whim but never once worn. you slipped it on and admired yourself in the mirror. it was pink silk, laced at the edges and around the breasts and hugged your curves tightly. “this better work” you mumbled but just as you were about to turn around your door swung open, revealing riki with a phone in his hand “I’m getting takeout what do yo-” he stopped, his eyes raked your figure before widening his eyes and slamming the door shut in your face.

you were embarrassed. how could that happen? you cursed yourself for forgetting to lock the door. not only did he catch you wearing something ridiculously showy, but he also caught you in an awkward posture, looking like a deer caught in headlights. you could only imagine why he had the urgency to shut the door so quickly. You whined and plopped onto your bed, burying your head in your pillow and letting out a muffled scream.

there was no way you could face him after what just happened. you groaned, the second-hand embarrassment kicked in once again and the more you thought about what just happened, the more you felt sleepy and as exhaustion took over you, you drifted off to sleep

–

the next morning, when you woke up, got ready for class, and walked out, you half expected riki to be there, but it seemed like he’d left already, which was odd considering that he was never the first one to wake up. the entire day passed by as usual. you didn’t see Riki once, and you didn't know if it was a good or bad thing, but you were just glad to be able to forget about yesterday’s, er, events even if it was just for a little while.

you sighed upon arriving at your shared apartment, closing the door and leaning your forehead against it trying to collect yourself. today was rough, back-to-back classes, your part-time job at the cafe was also tiring and all you wanted to do on a friday night was unwind by binge-eating your favorite ice cream and watching all the shows you’d meant to catch up on but of course, nothing went your way because, around an hour after you’d made those relaxing plans, you received a call from one of riki’s friends, jay, pleading you to come to get riki, saying he was drunk out of his mind.

here you were. In front of a loud, dingy bar downtown with an extremely heavy riki leaning onto your side as if his life depended on it. sighing for the third time that night “can you please fucking straighten up?” you groaned as you pushed him onto a wooden bench, pulling out your phone to book a cab knowing there was no way you could walk back to your (shared) apartment with him.

“do you know how hard it is to live with you and pretend i don’t think about that night all the time?” riki spoke up, voice slurred and hoarse. you visibly stiffened up, internally somewhat cheering that your idea did seem to have some effect but it was still embarrassing, and this was not how you expected your conversation about that night to go. you turned your head towards him and blinked, not knowing how to respond and riki only looked back at you, tilting his head and looking so innocent as if he hadn’t just said something that scrambled your thoughts.

“you don’t know what you're saying. can you just wait until we get home, don’t open your mouth till then,” you commanded just in time as the cab pulled up, you hauled him in with all your might, but it took a lot more effort to get him out and into your apartment. It felt like you were dealing with a human-sized doll.

riki groaned as you dropped him onto the couch, you panted heavily trying to catch your breath. this is not how you wanted to end your friday. tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear, you grabbed riki a glass of water and held it out to him “here. sober up” but riki didn’t take the glass from you, instead he stared at you and parted his plump lips. you gulped at the sight of them, your lips tingling to feel them on your own. you kneeled on the ground before him and hesitantly, you brought your hand up to feed him the water and the other hand came up to hold his chin and watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing with each sip only making you gulp and clench your thighs involuntarily which didn’t go unnoticed by riki who slowly pushed your hand away and smirked, his lips were wet and glossy.

you set the glass down and stared at him when one of riki’s hands cupped your face and instantly joined your lips with his. you responded almost immediately, wrapping your hands around his neck and allowing him to snake his hands around your waist and pull you onto his lap while kissing you all the while and that was when you felt his dick hardening underneath you making you gasp into his mouth, he used it as an opportunity and slipped his tongue into your mouth, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

the kiss was anything but sweet, it was messy. Drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as riki angled his head to reach deeper into your mouth. you shouldn’t be doing this. he was drunk and probably didn’t know what he was doing but the feeling was too good and you let your sex-hazed mind take over and push down your rational thoughts.

the two of you pulled away slightly to catch your breaths “fuck baby…” he muttered and slipped one of his hands under your shirt, the cold touch making you gasp. he trailed them up slowly, the sensation making you squirm making riki chuckle, “i haven’t even gotten to the actual part and you’re already squirming? cute.” heat rushed to your face at his words and it only made you excited for what was to come.

he slowly trailed his hand further up and palmed your breast through your bra before clicking his tongue in irritation and unhooking your bra in one go “annoying shit” he mumbled and pulled it out, making you giggle at his impatience, his hands pulled your shirt off, exposing your breasts to the cool air which made your nipples instantly harden. riki latched onto one of your breasts, making your hands fly up to his head and intertwine your fingers in his hair as he slid his tongue across your bud before sucking, teasing, and grazing it with his teeth while fondling the other one, pinching and twisting it between his fingers, meanwhile, the stimulation made you feel hazy. you began grinding down on him desperate for some friction, making him groan.

he licked your nipple before peppering kisses from your chest to your neck and trailed up until he reached your jaw, leaving hot open open-mouthed kisses there and taking in your scent before pulling away. he tugged on you’re pants “take it off” he mumbled, making you smile as you got off to take your pant and panties off while he took off his own clothes and the moment his cock was released from its confines it sprang up and slapped against his abdomen, the tip already leaking pre cum. oh, it was big alright. you’d thought about riki’s cock on more than one occasion but the real deal beat every single one you imagined.

you gulped at the sight and watched riki spear the pre cum around his tip and lean his head back groaning. noticing that you were standing, he pulled you onto him “ride me.” two words had you working immediately as you put your hands on his shoulders for support and lined up against his cock, and slowly slid down, the both of you letting out loud moans at the feeling. your grip on his shoulders tightened as you sank down completely, feeling full to the brim.

You took a deep breath, still adjusting to his size but riki, impatient as ever wasn’t having it “move…fuck” he breathed out. You slowly moved up and down his cock, and every time you sank, a small bulge appeared on your stomach which only drove riki crazy making him groan, however, he felt your pace was too slow and suddenly bucked his hips up making you yelp and grip his shoulders as he reached a deep spot as if he wasn’t already deep enough and that made him laugh. You swatted at his arm

“fuck baby… You’re way too slow” he teased and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he slowly gripped your hips and laid you onto the couch “let me just take over okay?” he whispered sweetly before pulling out and admiring the sight before him, his tip rubbed against your folds, only making you ache for more, he teased you a little longer, enjoying your little whines and pleas before giving in and thrusting into you in one go, groaning at the feeling as he felt your cunt suck him in . the feeling making you arch your back and grip onto the handrest behind you moaned loudly, suddenly feeling so full, the stretch was painful yet you craved for more.

riki only sped up from that moment, and now and then between each thrust, you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. riki leaned down to kiss you sloppily when his hips suddenly jerked forward and hitting a certain spot that tipped you off the edge that you were holding onto, making you coat his cock in your sweet release.

riki’s eyes slightly widened in amusement while you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, “don’t hide baby” he whispered, nipping on your ear lightly and pulling your hands away from your face, before speeding up, to reach his own high. The wetness of your release only added to his stimulation and soon enough thick ropes of his release coated the insides of your wall, so deep you could feel the sticky wet sensation of it making him let out a loud moan. “fuck.” he gasped as the two of you tried catching your breaths. he leaned down, his cock still inside as he laid his body on top of yours, sighing contently “are you still drunk?” you asked, it was a stupid question but you thought he might’ve sobered up a bit by now “a little yeah. but not enough to forget this. fuck i don’t think i can ever forget this” he spoke out, his voice hoarse. He held himself up by his forearms before trailing small kisses from between the valley between your breasts, down your stomach to your cunt where the two of you were connected.

he pulled out and you both groaned at the same time but for two entirely different reasons. you for feeling so empty and him at the sight of the both of your releases dripping out and without a thought, riki leaned in and lapped up the releases that dripped out before using his tongue to push the rest in, not allowing a drop more to go to waste. you hissed at the sudden overstimulation “w-what are you doing” “can’t let any more go to waste baby” he placed a kiss to your clit before sitting up and laying back down on you and nuzzling his head into your neck, you wrapped your arms around him as your fingers tapped lightly on his back

“we should probably clean up” you whispered, “probably.” you smiled at his reponse and hit his back lightly “five more minutes…” “just five more.”

☆ xiao's notes: i kinda rushed this through

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mostly-imagines · 4 months ago

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Damian was unwilling to even consider accepting your presence. He’d been sure that you were a passing source of entertainment for his older brother, who couldn’t possibly hold positive regard towards anyone other than himself.

Jason had brought you to the manor with him while he dropped in to discuss some things with the old man. You’d told him you’d be fine to hang out with Damian until he was done, to which he scoffed and wished you luck.

So you approach the couch tentatively and smile despite the lack of attention on you, “Hi Damian.”

He merely side eyes you and says nothing.

Having expected this from him, you continue, “What are you watching?”

“The Discovery channel.” He says shortly.

You frown, furrowing your eyebrows.

He glances at you, unamused. “What?”

“Why are you watching the Discovery channel?” you ask him.

“It’s educational.” He tells you, like it’s obvious.

You nod slowly, “Yes, but…what else do you watch?”

“The Discovery channel has many different series’,” he tells you with discernable disinterest.

You tilt your head at him, “Don’t you watch shows for kids?”

He glowers hearing that, “Why would I do that?”

“…Because you’re a kid.”

He shakes his head, basically waving you off. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

You’re not really sure why Damian is the way he is just yet. You know he only came to live with Bruce relatively recently and before that lived with his mother somewhere far. Jason’s mentioned in passing that his upbringing was a bit unorthodox and his mother is a sore subject. You don’t know Bruce well but you can take a guess that his parenting priorities don’t necessarily lie with letting kids be kids.

You shake your head, “It’s not a waste of time. Not if you enjoy it.” You pause. “It’s okay for you to be a kid, Damian.”

He looks at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

You sit up more, turning to face him completely. “I can’t imagine pushing yourself so hard all the time is good for your brain. Or your body.”

That gets his attention. “…What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I mean a part of normal human development involves fostering happiness through recreation and leisure. Entertainment like that functions as a stress reliever which is necessary for you to operate at your highest capacity. It’s like recharging your body and it’s important to do, especially when you’re young and can burn out quickly.”

He frowns deeply, furrowing his eyebrows, “Oh.”

You nod, thinking. “I can’t imagine your diet is any different than your dads, then.”

His posture straightens, “I eat to make me stronger. That is good for my body.” He says it like it has to be.

Your brow furrows at that as you nod, “Yeah, it is, but do you like it?”

He grimaces, “What does that matter?”

You pull back a bit, blinking at him. “Do you eat snacks, Damian?”

“Snacks are for—” he cuts himself off. “No I do not.”

“What if we watched a movie and made popcorn or something?”

He considers this with an obvious great hesitance, looking you up and down like he’s expecting you to pull out a knife any second.

“You could be wrong,” he says eventually, quiet.

You nod for a moment. “But what if I’m not?”

He eyes the rug on the floor, chin still held up. “What…do you suggest?”

You pucker your lower lip and shake your head, grabbing the remote. “Anything you want,” You flip the screen to the children’s movies, scrolling through the options. “You might like The Rescuers. Or Robin Hood. It’s about someone who steals from the rich and gives the money to the poor.”

You hand him the remote and he slowly moves through the list. You watch him look over the selection, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“What about “Bambi”? It has small animals in the picture.” He points to the little icon on the left of the screen displaying the baby deer and friends.

Your movements stutter. “Oh, uh…I don’t think that’s the movie for you.”

He tilts his head at you, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make popcorn, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You smile and nod encouragingly and stand before making your way to the kitchen.

Damian watches you go before thoughtlessly standing himself and trailing slowly after you. By the time he gets to the kitchen door frame you’ve already opened up a packet and are placing it into the microwave. You don’t stop at that, opening up the fridge to pour out a small glass of coke.

The popcorn is nearly done when Jason approaches from the hall, stopping next to Damian and peering into the doorway to see what’s so interesting.

He’s surprised to find that the thing Damian had been staring wide-eyed at was you, making snacks.

He looks again at his little brother, heeding how his gaze was somehow closer to fear than skepticism. But he’d seen that look before, when he’d first come to live at the manor it was the only expression he conveyed for at least two months. That look of shock that he was being treated so kindly, with such thought behind it. Jason hadn’t seen that look in a while, but couldn’t find it in him to be surprised that it was you who brought it back out.

For someone as trained as he is, it takes Damian an embarrassingly long time to register his brother's presence. He tries to play it off as though he’d always known, adjusting his posture to stand taller, chin up. He turns to face Jason, suddenly somber. “She is an adequate choice of a partner.”

Jason’s face contorts, looking him up and down, “…Thanks?”

#jason todd x reader

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bernardsbendystraws · 6 months ago

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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 — 𝐌.𝐒. & 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: They want you filled to the brim.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, cockingwarming, booty hole plunging, vaginal cave exploration. Doll x Chratt.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Needy, needy hands grabbed and pulled on your skin.

You had gotten back from a sunset walk not too long ago, curling up on the couch with Matt and Chris almost instantly. And they were pleased, finally getting to have you in their arms after a long day. You had been home. Self care activities with a face mask, an everything shower, and all that good stuff had consumed your attention - attention that they wanted.

“Doll, sit here.” Matt doesn’t phrase it as a question. He simply pats his lap, already dragging you by your thighs onto his lap.

Chris isn’t so pleased.

A huff coming from his lips makes you give him a pointed look. He’d get his turn, he just had to be patient. “-’s so unfair,” he grumbles.

Matt doesn’t even care. He’s content, grasping at the tops of your thighs with possessive hands, grazing his nose along your neck as he buries his face in your hair. “Smells so good. Did you use the vanilla one?” he asks, referring to the hair mask you had once put on him, and even though he didn’t love the feeling, he did love the scent.

He loved it even more on you.

“Doll, come here.” Chris urges. Patting his own lap, he gets frustrated seeing your lack of movement, reaching over and starting to drag you by your hand.

The second your body starts to move, Matt is making his hold firm around your waist, caging you in with an obsessive greed, a certain kind of hold that both infuriates you and makes your stomach feel warm.

“Come onnnn,” Chris whines, tugging harder.

Matt’s grip only tightens more, making you uncomfortable from the amount of pushing and pulling, your ribs starting to ache from the pressure.

Deciding you’ve had enough, you push Matt’s arms off of you, shaking Chris’s hands off as you stand up, glaring down at them with crossed arms. “Do I look like a ragdoll?” you question, attitude drowning from your aura as you squint your eyes.

A deer caught in headlights. That’s what they both look like, sitting up straighter as they both offer a sympathetic look, mumbling an apology, “Sorry,” they say in sync, their eyes growing sadder as they observe the distance from you. Now neither of them got to hold you.

Silence consumes the room. The streetlights and stars peering in from the window accompany the little lamp light, a soft glow reflecting on their faces. They just look so sad, so defeated. Afterall, all they wanted was to be closer and they only pushed you away, hurting you in the process.

Your posture slouches, your arms falling to your side as you let out a sigh, stepping forward and standing in between Matt’s legs. Combing through his hair, you lean down and place a kiss on the crown of his head, ruffling his hair before maneuvering and doing the same to Chris.

“It’s okay, let’s jus-”

Chris surprises you as you try to talk. While trying to walk away, he tugs at the waistband of your sweats, keeping you in place before staring right up at you, his eyes watering as he murmurs, “Please.”

Only the one singular word slips through his lips. You feel your heart soften as you admire his sympathetic eyes, looking over to see Matt trying to keep his hands held tightly together, almost as if he’s fighting the urge to force you back into his own lap.They both look like they’re in pain from how badly they just need you.

“Matt…” you trail off, trying to grab his attention, but his eyes stay trained on his lap. Something’s wrong.

Walking back over to him, you try to brush your hands through his hair, but Matt moves swiftly, storming off down the hallway to his bedroom. You look back over to Chris, seeing his eyes watering as he stares up at you with a pout. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, his eyes falling to his lap as he starts to twiddle his thumbs.

The wooden floors creak with each quick step you take. His door is cracked open, his body laying on his bed as he holds a pillow over his face.

“Matt?” you ask, gaining a muffled groan as he lays still.

Taking a couple more steps, you climb up on his bed, petting his chest softly. And that makes him break. He pulls the pillow off his face, revealing a mess of tears cascading down his cheek.

“Awww, Matt…what’s wrong?” you coo, brushing his fair back.

All he does is shake his head. You try to move closer to hold him, but he pulls you in before you’re quite ready, making you crumble forward and land on his chest.

“Just,” he chokes up on his tears, taking a couple deep breaths as he breathes in the vanilla scent coating your hair, “-need you. I don’t wanna share today and I just…need you to be mine.”

The possessive statement doesn’t go unheard - by you or Chris, who happened to be peeping through the door crack…

Your hands flail, a poor attempt at trying to regain an upright position, but Matt pulls you even closer, cradling your head into the crook of his neck as he rolls you over to your sides, swinging a leg over your body.

“Please, just - I need to hold you, I need this so bad. Please don’t make me let go,” he says, crying while his tears drop into your hair.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Promise.” As those words leave your mouth, you hear more footsteps - Chris’s footsteps, his hand grazing over your arm as he looks down at you sadly.

Matt pulls you impossibly closer, practically swatting Chris’s hands off of you. “Go away,” Matt murmurs, cuddling you closer and trying to draw the blanket over the two of you.

“What about me, baby…”

His voice is low. The hum in the back of his throat tells you he’s holding back a lot of emotions. You push at Matt’s chest, earning a grumble of aggravation as he tries to pull you closer. However, you lightly tap on his chest. It gains his attention, his grasp loosening as he realizes - he’s doing the same thing he had been doing in the living room, and it’s making you upset.

“Stop it. Scoot over” Orders fall from your mouth with no room to bicker. Matt scoots back, carrying you with him. You feel the mattress dip with Chris’s weight from behind, his hands grasping at your waist tightly, his fingers digging in slightly as he tries to pull you closer - but you’re already against both of them, only your sweats in the way.

“Need you closer,” Chris mumbles, hesitantly tugging on the heavy fabric of your hoodie.

As you try to move to pull off the clothes, you feel Matt keep you in his rigid arms, making you unable to move. “Matt, I was gonna take my sweats and stuff off.”

Matt’s ears perk at that offer. If anything, he wanted you closer too - desperately. Both boys loosen their grips, stripping themselves as you start to peel each item of clothing off, discarding it on the floor randomly.

“Come back,” Matt directs, holding his arms open and lifting the blanket up. You snuggle in, smiling as you feel Chris press his nude body against your from behind. Limbs loosen, your hearts beating in sync as you all relax from the rush of emotions.

Chris’s breath is hot against your ear. Heavy pants leave his lips as he gently prods his hardening dick against you. He doesn’t want sex, he just wants to be closer. “Can you warm me, baby? I - I won’t move, promise, just…ugh,” he groans, his head falling limp against yours softly.

Before you can say anything, Matt chirps in, “Wait. What about me?”

It had only really happened one time before. A similar situation to this one, except they had been visiting Boston for over two weeks, they really had a reason to feel desperate. Although you’re not sure why they’re feeling so obsessive tonight, you can’t help but crave that fullness.

“Do you still have the lube?”

Matt nods, nudging his head at Chris who immediately understands, swinging his arm off of you and rolling over to plunder through the nightstand drawer, pulling out condoms and the bottle of lube.

Just at the thought, both of their dicks are hard. They loved the way you looked when they had done it before. It felt so raw, so full of passion.

“No…no moving too much, okay?” you clarify. Although you did love the fullness, it was a lot to be fucked with so much. Both of them nod, peeling open the condoms and rolling them on - they knew at least that would put you at ease and would make it easier.

Matt slips in with ease, your pussy sucking him in greedily as he pushes his pelvis plush against yours. He’s deep.

The sound of the lube bottle popping open makes your heart race. A cold liquid being smeared around the rim of your ass making you tense.

“Shhhhh, just gotta relax,” Matt coos, cradling your head into the crook of his neck and pressing a kiss to your temple. You try to take deep breaths. Your body falls limp as Chris massages your ass, waiting until you let your muscles let loose before starting to prod his cock at your hole.

“I’m gonna go slow. Just - tell me if you need a break, okay?”

You nod, humming as a cry strangles through your lips as he slowly pushes himself in. It’s a lot - enough to make your fingers start to dig into Matt’s shoulders. He coos gently, combing through your hair as Chris holds his hands on your hips, burying himself in you so slowly that it feels like torture, but he doesn’t wanna hurt you.

A shriek falls from your mouth as he fully bottoms out. Matt’s cock had slipped out just a bit from all the movement, his hips slowly digging back up before he could truly process the motion. Well, until you cry out, your chest pressing against his more.

“-’m sorry, sweetheart, sorry,” he strains, taking deep breaths as he tries to calm himself down. You’re just so warm - so drenched, he can feel the sticky residue starting to drip onto his balls, his gut clenching as he forces himself to halt all movements.

“-’s…okay…” you breathe, slurring your words as you focus on how utterly full you feel.

Meanwhile, Chris is nearly making his lip bleed, trying to hold back as you nearly suffocate him with your other hole.

“Doing so good, princess, so good,” Chris praises, massaging your hip as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

They’re both finally content.

And you’re finally full.

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magical-reid · 6 months ago

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Beneath the Mask

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (some Winter Soldier) x Reader

Word Count: 900 Words

Summary: After an intense sparring session, you find yourself awkwardly daydreaming about Bucky Barnes, only for him to appear in full Winter Soldier gear, making you flustered with his teasing and undeniable presence. Despite the tension, Bucky reassures you with a soft smile, showing that, even in his intimidating suit, he's still the same man you've admired from afar.

The compound was quiet for once, a rare lull in the chaos that usually characterized life with the Avengers. The team was scattered throughout the facility, each preoccupied with their own business. You were tucked away in the training room, lingering far longer than necessary after your sparring session, nursing your usual crush-fueled daydreams about Bucky Barnes.

It wasn’t just the general aura of mystery, or his startlingly blue eyes, or even the way his rare, crooked smiles felt like tiny rays of sunlight piercing through clouds. No—it was also the fact that he’d taken his scarred past and made himself something better. Stronger. Kinder. Bucky wasn’t just beautiful, he was good, through and through.

Unfortunately, all that admiration made you hopelessly awkward in his presence.

You were seated on the bench by the wall, sipping water as you procrastinated returning to your room. Your mind had just started to drift—something about the way his metal arm glinted in the sun when he worked outside—when the sound of heavy footsteps jolted you back to reality.

You froze as he appeared in the doorway.

But this wasn’t just Bucky. This was the Winter Soldier.

He was in full tactical gear, his black combat suit hugging the sharp lines of his frame. His metal arm gleamed faintly under the fluorescent lights, each groove and plate illuminated in sharp relief. A black mask covered the lower half of his face, and his long hair fell in messy waves around his shoulders.

Your breath hitched.

“Hey,” he said, voice gruff. The mask muffled him slightly, but not enough to disguise the gravelly timbre that always made your knees weak.

“Hi,” you squeaked, praying you didn’t look like a deer in headlights.

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway with a casualness that belied how imposing he looked. “What’re you still doing here? Thought your training block ended an hour ago.”

“I—uh…” You scrambled for an excuse, your mouth dry. “Just, um, cooling down. Staying hydrated.”

Brilliant, you thought. Truly a masterclass in casual conversation.

Bucky tilted his head, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He stepped closer, and the sound of his heavy boots on the mat made your heart race. You tore your gaze away, but it didn’t help; now you were hyper-aware of his presence, the faint smell of leather and gunmetal surrounding you like a storm cloud.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice was softer this time, gentler, and that somehow made it worse.

You nodded frantically. “Yep! Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

He frowned, straightening up. His gaze flickered down, taking in your stiff posture, the way your fingers clenched the water bottle like a lifeline. And then… he smirked.

Oh no.

“Is it the suit?” His tone was teasing now, a hint of amusement lacing his words. “Does it bother you?”

“No!” you blurted. “I mean—no, it’s fine, I just—it’s…” You trailed off, heat flooding your cheeks.

This was mortifying.

To your surprise, Bucky crouched down to your level, his smirk softening into something closer to curiosity. He rested one arm on his knee, tilting his head slightly as he studied you. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You just… look different, that’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. The Winter Soldier gear transformed him, sharpening his features, accentuating the lethal edge that lurked beneath his quiet demeanor. It wasn’t hard to imagine why people used to quake at the sight of him—but you weren’t afraid. Far from it.

“I look different, huh?” he echoed, his lips twitching behind the mask.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

He reached up, his gloved fingers tugging the mask down. His face was still soft despite the tactical gear, the familiar angles of his jaw and the faint stubble on his chin grounding you. “Better?”

You nodded again, relieved. But then he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Or do you like it?”

Your eyes went wide, and you felt your pulse skyrocket. “What?”

The smirk was back, full force now. “You look a little flustered, that’s all. Didn’t know the tactical suit would have this kind of effect.”

You made a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan, burying your face in your hands. “Bucky!”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing.” He paused. “But seriously, you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m still me, y’know? Even in this.”

Peeking through your fingers, you found his expression sincere, his blue eyes warm despite the black suit and gleaming metal arm. It struck you then, how much effort he must have put into reclaiming this image of himself—how he’d taken the weapon Hydra had forged and turned it into something good.

“I know,” you murmured, lowering your hands. “You’re always you.”

For a moment, his expression softened further, and something unspoken passed between you. Then he rose to his full height, offering you a hand. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here before Sam comes looking for us and starts making fun of me.”

You took his hand, your cheeks still warm as his metal fingers closed gently around yours. And maybe��just maybe—you gave his suit one last lingering glance before following him out.

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floatyflowers · 7 days ago

Text

Dark! Platonic Grandfather! Thranduil x Reader

The grand halls of the Woodland Realm were filled with the soft glow of torchlight, and Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves, sat on his carved throne.

His posture was poised, and his expression distant but sharp, as if his mind wandered the ages of Arda while still monitoring the world around him.

"Grandfather!" Your voice rang out, shattering the peaceful air.

Thranduil's brow twitched, no matter how much he corrected you about using the sindrin elvish 'Adarharn' instead of the human 'grandfarher', you still call him that.

He could never wrap his head around what your father saw in your human mother.

"What is it, child?"

"Do dragons sneeze fire?"

The Elvenking froze, then slowly raised his gaze to meet yours.

"What nonsense is this?"

You strode closer, full of chaotic energy.

"I mean, they breathe fire, right? So if they had a cold and sneezed, would it be like a tiny firestorm? Or do they just sneeze normal air like boring creatures?"

Thranduil's face remained utterly impassive, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"You disturb my affairs to ask if dragons, beings of immense power, sneeze fire?"

"Yes!" you replied with an unflinching grin.

"It's important! What if one sneezes near Mirkwood? Are we prepared for fireproof defenses? Have you thought about this, Grandfather?"

He leaned back in his throne, fingers steepling as his piercing gaze bore into you.

"I have ruled this realm for centuries, faced Smaug himself in his prime, and dealt with matters of grave importance. Yet never, not once, has anyone dared to ask such a ridiculous question."

"Ridiculous or brilliant?" you countered, tilting your head.

He sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that seemed to drain the weariness of millennia.

"Dragons do not sneeze fire. Their fire is an intentional act, not a byproduct of a cold. Now, if you value your continued residence in this realm, you will refrain from asking such hollow questions."

"But what if they do sneeze fire when they are babies?" you pressed, eyes wide with mock innocence.

"Imagine a baby dragon with the sniffles-"

"Enough," Thranduil cut in, his voice stern and final.

"Legolas shall hear of your antics."

"Great!" you chirped.

"He will want to know about sneezing dragons too."

Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I regret that I ever allowed him to leave you in my care."

"Grandfather, if you are immortal, how old are you? Like really old? Old enough to know dirt personally?"

Thranduil gave you a long-suffering stare. "I am far older than you could comprehend, and I have no acquaintance with dirt."

"Are you sure?" You tilted your head, looking at him critically.

"You have got that ancient vibe. You know, wise and mysterious, but also a bit crusty?”

"Crusty?" he repeated.

"Yes, like bread that has been left out too long. Still good, but definitely needs some butter."

Thranduil rose from his throne, towering over you with an aura of icy authority.

"Child, you are testing the limits of my patience."

"Really, how close am I?"

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

By the end of the week, the Woodland Realm had descended into mild anarchy.

You had declared yourself "Princess of Fun" and commandeered half the guard to organize a deer race through the palace gardens.

Thranduil found himself standing at the edge of the chaos, arms folded as he observed the scene.

Guards chased deers, elves tripped over hastily made obstacles, and you stood on a table, yelling encouragement at the animals.

"Faster, Mr. Nutkins! You’ve got this! Believe in yourself!"

Thranduil cleared his throat loudly. The table you were standing on wobbled as you froze, realizing you were caught.

"Oh, greetings, Grandfather," you said sheepishly, hopping down.

"Did you see Mr. Nutkins? He’s the fastest-"

"You have dishonored this realm, disrupted my court, and terrorized the guards with your absurd antics." He stepped closer, his stern glare boring into you.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

You grinned up at him. "You smiled a little when Nutkins won, didn’t you?"

Thranduil blinked, caught off-guard.

"I most certainly did not."

"Did too."

"I did not."

"Did too."

The Elvenking sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose once more.

"You are relentless."

"Thanks, Grandfather!" you chirped, taking it as a compliment.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

When Legolas returned from his quest months later, weary but victorious, he found his father seated on his throne, looking strangely serene.

At Thranduil's side, at the end of his throne's stairs, you sat cross-legged on the floor, gleefully teaching a group of guards how to make flower crowns.

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Did she... behave?"

Thranduil took a long sip of wine before answering.

"Define behave."

"Did she make you mad?"

Thranduil's lips twitched.

"She did not succeed."

You beamed. "I'm his favorite now."

Legolas groaned. "I'm never leaving you here again."

Thranduil smirked, swirling his wine.

"Good."

You grinned, handing your father a crown made of wildflowers.

"That's for you."

"She is to remain here," Thranduil interrupted smoothly, before adding "Permanently."

"What?!" Legolas exclaimed.

"Ada, we have agreed that once the ring is destroyed, she will return with me."

Thranduil descended gracefully from his throne, each step deliberate and regal.

Stopping before his son, he reached out and lifted your small form into his arms

"She is now under my care. Seek another child if you must, for this one shall not leave my side."

C.ai version: link

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #yandere thranduil x reader #platonic yandere #yandere lotr #lotr x reader #daughter reader #granddaughter Reader #possessive #thranduil x reader #legolas x reader #platonic fluff

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pineconepie · 5 days ago

Text

CHARACTERS: Cassian, Winslow, You/Reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Nagas/snakes, hypnosis, parental yanderes, kidnapping, infantilization, failed escape attempt, gender neutral reader

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Two writings posted in one day? Perhaps I felt generous. I've changed up my original plans for them a tiny bit, but not by much. I hope you like it!

The air in the forest is cool, but there's an unnatural stillness that unsettles you as you walk through it. It makes sense that you haven't seen another hiker, the place just feels... off.

It doesn't matter, though. You got several good photos of some plants, and a beautiful waterfall and lake with pristine blue water; probably the bluest natural water you've ever seen.

You have what you came for, but you want to get some more photos.

It started off as just a hobby, but when a local nature organization noticed your photos posted on social media, they were really interested in hiring you to take pictures for them. It was more comparable to a gig or freelance work, since all your pay is done by commission, but it's fun and makes you enough extra money that you don't mind keeping at it.

After snapping some photos of some mushrooms growing from a rotting log, you hear the sound of talking.

Maybe there are hikers, after all.

You see two people in the distance.

"Is the fresh air helping at all, my love?" a slightly deep voice asks. He has short black hair, and strangely bright yellow eyes. He has a scar across his left eye, rendering it milky white, likely blind.

Eyes that you know you've never seen on anyone else before.

Next to him, is a much more sullen-looking taller man. Taller by quite a bit, though they look the same age. He has longer white-blond hair tied into a loose ponytail, blue eyes, and... black scleras?

Surely you must be seeing things wrong. You use your camera to zoom in on them.

"I told you, fresh air does nothing," a more soft voice hisses, though there's no true anger in it. It sounds more... sad. Exhausted.

Zooming in on them doesn't help. You truly realize how tall they are—even the shorter one could still tower over you.

And then you realize the other part about them both that is unnatural.

They have tails. Tails like a snake, to be exact. The shorter man has a brown-gold tail, and the other has a light-brown tail, with darker brown-black markings.

That doesn't make sense. No way you aren't hallucinating. There isn't any poisonous fungi around here, right?

It's impossible, yet you keep looking through the lens at those two men.

You accidentally snap a photo of the pair, both of them whipping their heads in your direction immediately.

In a moment of sheer panic, you start sprinting away. Your heart races in your chest so hard it might just break out as you force yourself to run faster than you ever have in your life.

You look back after some time, and you're too distracted to notice the raised tree root, tripping over it and hitting the ground with a thud.

To make matters worse, you tumble down a hill and roll onto the cold rocky shore of the lake. Your head is throbbing, and you try to sit up only to get dizzy. You press the palm of your hand to your forehead, pulling it back and seeing red. With a wince, you notice the small scrape on your arm that's also bleeding, plus your knee hurts from when you landed on the rocks.

The voices come back from a distance, but still close enough for you to hear them.

"What do you think it was?" the softer voice asks. The one from the taller man you assume was melancholic—based on his slumped posture—though now you can clearly detect curiosity. "A deer?"

"I can smell its blood," the other voice murmurs. "Doesn't smell like deer. Whatever it is, I'm hungry," he states excitedly.

Oh god. You feel even dizzier than before, and not from your fall, either. You manage to stand, ignoring how unbalanced you are as you run towards a large boulder sitting near the shore of the lake. You hide behind it, praying they don't find you.

Your luck quickly runs out.

A hand grabs your ankle and drags you out of your hiding place, so quickly you don't even have time to react.

They both gasp. You look up at them both in fear, trembling underneath their gazes. You glance towards your camera; it didn't take a beating from the fall, somehow.

Not like it now matters. This is where you meet your death, you're sure of it. So you shut your eyes, and await the inevitable.

"A human," the taller one whispers. "Oh, Winslow, look at them...!" He coos, scooping you up into his arms with a scary amount of ease. His gaze softens. "A baby. Aren't they precious? They look so perfect... Look how little they are..." He sounds adoring, talking to you as if you're an animal who can't understand him.

But wait. Does he know you can?

"You're right, Cassian," the other one chuckles, running one of his claws gently across your face.

"My hatchling," Cassian shakily says. His grip on you somehow tightens. "I won't let anything happen to you... not like..." His voice cracks, like he might cry.

"Cassian," Winslow chides gently. "This time we won't lose them. I promise you." He looks down at you, smiling, but... it looks strange.

"Right. It'll be different this time," Cassian agrees, blinking tears away. They both seem to have this inside conversation, and your presence seems to have slipped their mind. Until the attention shifts back to you, anyway. "Our baby must be so scared," Cassian coos sadly, petting your head. "That was such a tumble you took..."

You continue to pretend to not understand them. Maybe if they realize you aren't comprehending their words, they'll leave you be.

"They probably have no idea what's happening! Poor thing..." Winslow sighs.

Cassian hums. You crack open one eye to see him staring at you fondly. When you first met gazes, he looked depressed; exhausted. Now he looks content and at peace, even.

You start to wriggle, trying to escape his hold. You manage to get yourself out, but your injuries don't allow you to run anywhere.

Winslow acts faster, grabbing you again into his arms this time, which are more thick and muscular. "No no no, sweetheart, don't hurt yourself!" Winslow exclaims. "It's okay, don't cry! Papa's here!" He bounces you in his arms, like soothing a crying baby.

And unfortunately, you realize he's not lying, because you can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks, burning the cut by your mouth as you sob.

They're much larger than you. There's no escape. Not right now, anyway. So you lay limp in Winslow's arms, sniffling, knowing it will help nothing.

"We're taking them," Cassian mumbles, but his tone leaves no room for argument.

Winslow pecks the side of your head. "Of course we are."

The exhaustion from the past hours suddenly catches up with you.

...

When you wake up, you hear the sound of humming, accompanied by a fire. You're wrapped in something that doesn't feel quite like a blanket... or any fabric, for that matter.

You struggle to move at first, feeling dizzy, until your vision finally focuses and you can see where you are.

The cave is somewhat dark, but there's a large hole showing sunlight, a large tree beneath the sunlight, roots reaching through the top.

Vines cover the ceiling and most of the walls, making for a very natural yet cozy-looking place.

You look down and realize the 'blanket' isn't a blanket at all. It's... a tail, leading up to reveal who you remember as Winslow. The memories from earlier flood back into your brain, causing you to shrink under his touch.

He's laying next to you, asleep. One of his arms is underneath your head like a pillow, and his tail has curled itself around you.

There's a fire crackling. You lift your head to see Cassian tending to it, cooking something in the flames. The heat from it warms the cave nicely. Your head starts to pound as soon as you've raised it too far off the makeshift pillow that is Winslow's arm.

Suddenly Cassian whips around at the sound of your slight whimper, moving faster than you would have ever guessed possible.

"Good morning, my little one," he whispers, brushing some hair off of your face, examining your forehead. "Poor dear," he sighs sympathetically. "Papa and Baba will take good care of you."

"Baba?" you repeat. You panic for a moment when you see Cassian blink in shock.

"Oh, Cass! They said 'Baba'!" Winslow gasps.

Oh, thank goodness. They both still have no clue you can truly understand them. You try your hardest to play up the innocent act. Winslow hugs you, cuddling you close to him and kissing your cheeks repeatedly, making kissy noises.

You get the impression these two have no experience with humans. If they did, they would likely notice your skin crawling at the interaction.

Then you're scooped up again into Cassian's arms. You squirm, kicking your legs against him, which makes his smile grow wider.

"So lively!" he chuckles. He holds you by tucking you into his arm as he feeds the fire more wood with his free hand.

"Are they acting fussy, love?" Winslow asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he gets up. He makes grabby hands towards you.

"I guess you could say that," Cassian replies, handing you over to Winslow. "I think it's simply normal, though. Maybe this is a sign they are hungry. Don't worry, sweetheart, food is almost done."

Food. You're unsure how your stomach feels about that.

After the events that occurred, you feel... hollowed out. Like all your energy is sapped from you. Maybe it actually is. You're a bit achy all over after you went tumbling down the hill.

What a horrible day. But you wonder, what did they mean before? About this time it would be different? What happened?

Maybe you don't want to know. In all honesty, you shouldn't care. You just want to get out of here.

Cassian stands near the fire, seemingly cooking meat of some sort, with vegetables on sticks. It smells heavenly, despite your nerves and lack of appetite.

"Look at what we're having for dinner, hatchling!" Cassian coos. "Doesn't it look so yummy?"

Well... it does.

Winslow hugs you tight, his chin resting on your head. You squirm uncomfortably in his hold again, but it does absolutely nothing except cause Winslow to pull you impossibly closer. It makes sense why you're unable to escape from him, considering he could probably crush a tree trunk with just his arms. He seems stronger than Cassian despite being shorter.

But not short compared to you in the slightest.

Eventually, Cassian pulls away the fire-roasted vegetables from the fire and sets them aside on some makeshift plates made out of bark from birch trees.

Then he turns to the meat skewered on a large stick.

"Food is served!" Cassian announces.

Cassian scoops you up from Winslow's arms again. He gently sets you on a cushion made of moss, and sits down beside you. "Dinner," he says. He smiles when you don't reply, assuming it's because you don't understand him.

Or at least that's what you hope he assumes.

He basically hand-feeds you, delicately placing bites of vegetable in your mouth. It's surprisingly tasty and well-seasoned. Maybe it's your hunger making everything taste better.

Winslow eats his much less elegantly than his partner, finishing it all relatively quickly. Only after does he look at you, his smile soft, but almost sad. "I'm so glad we can be a family again."

Family?

"Me too," Cassian smiles, but it seems melancholic, his eyebrows turning downwards as if reminiscing about something.

"What's wrong?" Winslow frowns, tilting his head. He knows exactly what's wrong.

"I should've protected them all better," Cassian sniffles. His blue eyes begin to gloss over. "It never should have happened."

"It wasn't your fault," Winslow soothes. "Don't ever believe that for even a second, darling."

"If I was stronger—"

"No, don't blame yourself." Winslow scoots over to hold his mate. "Please don't. You know we couldn't do anything."

Cassian nods solemnly. "Thank you..." He sighs sadly. "It doesn't make me miss our other babies any less. But this time, it'll be different." He then looks over at you. "Won't it, little one?" You feel a spike of embarrassment when he wipes your cheek with the pad of his thumb, catching a crumb left over. "Messy, messy," he tuts, but his tone is somewhat playful.

Winslow kisses your forehead. "They certainly eat like a hatchling."

You'd be more insulted if you weren't so focused on their previous conversation.

It's obvious they've had past children, though you can assume they were likely still eggs when they lost them. But who—or what—hurt them?

Whoever it was, you're sure either of them showed no mercy.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Cassian gently grasps your arm, lifting it up and squinting. You realize most of the injured parts of your body are wrapped neatly with makeshift bandages.

"These will need to be rewrapped later," Cassian murmurs. "Luckily they'll heal fast, considering how young you are... Humans scar much easier than our kind does, it seems."

Cassian shifts behind you. A tail comes slithering forward and wraps around you loosely, yet securely.

His tail is much softer and smoother than Winslow's, less scaly. You guess he's some kind of constrictor snake. You squeak when his soft tail squeezes you slightly, like an affectionate embrace.

As you sit there, stuck in the coils of a creature that can easily kill you, all you feel is dazed, exhausted, and confused.

Winslow places the leftovers into a pot, then moves it near the entrance to the cave. Next, he takes the dirty bark plates, exiting the cave presumably to clean them outside.

"Come here, baby," Cassian whispers, pulling you backwards until your back is pressed against his chest. "Baba's got you." It's a possessive hold. You try to squirm away, but it only causes him to hold you tighter. He's careful with where he touches, being mindful of your injuries. You bite your tongue to distract yourself from the stinging pain in your head.

He continues to speak lovingly to you as his grip gradually tightens around your form, like a snake would coil around its prey. It hurts, but not nearly as bad as some of the wounds you have.

Eventually he loosens his grip, letting you catch your breath as he cradles you instead. It makes your stomach twist with guilt when you realize he's crying.

"You won't leave us," he mumbles softly. He's so delicate and gentle; like he's afraid you'll break.

It's hard to imagine that someone who can handle you with such tenderness could snap you like a twig if he wanted to.

"We love you so much already," he sobs. His arms come up around you again, clutching you protectively, desperately. As if you could leave at any given moment.

Even if you wanted to (which you very much do), his tail's grip on you is strong enough to keep you in place.

...

You don't know how long its been since you were taken away. The sun is rising through the top of the cave opening when you wake up in the morning, but that doesn't tell you how many days you've been here.

A few, you've deduced. At least three, but possibly more.

Cassian tends to the wound on your head multiple times a day. It has a constant bandage over it now. Your sprained knee and scraped-up arm aren't wrapped anymore, since they've healed nicely according to him.

You hate to admit you're now a bit curious about these two nagas.

More specifically, what happened to their past children? Were they like humans? Naga hybrids, or full nagas?

Why did they take you?

These questions—and many more—swirl through your head while you eat another plate is prepared by Cassian. It's starting to drive you crazy, how curious you are. You want to ask them. You need to know, like an itch begging to be scratched. The only reason you haven't, is because you hope to still give them the impression you're just the dumb human (child?) they believe you to be.

Once breakfast is over, you've finished eating all Winslow has fed you, so he lays on a mattress made of moss and vines that hangs between two trees in the cave. It's basically a hammock.

Winslow seems more emotional, openly clingy, but more scary, despite being the smaller naga.

Meanwhile Cassian has the aura of a stern but caring mother. He's patient and nurturing, and clearly devoted. Terrifyingly devoted.

What makes your chances of escape worse, much to your dread, is the fact you've gathered Cassian is mostly nocturnal, while Winslow is mostly awake during the day.

Most of the time, Winslow likes sleeping on the ground, while Cassian prefers the tree or hammock.

It's hard to have them both sleep at the same time unless its a short nap. Not to mention, Cassian seems to rouse easily.

So you continue playing along with the child role. Hopefully they'll grow careless as you gain their trust and let you go do your own things.

You'll escape one way or another. You don't intend to stay and play house with them forever.

Something to your advantage you have noticed, is Cassian is much slower than his mate, probably about a similar speed to your own if you were to break out into a sprint.

Winslow, however, is quick and fast. From what you've seen, at least.

Hopefully you won't have to test those odds.

For that reason, you've decided the smartest course of action would be to attempt escaping during the night rather than day, since that's when Winslow will be sleeping. Yet that still comes with the next challenge; Cassian keeps his eye on you just as often as Winslow does, sometimes even more. He spends a lot of the time curled around you, watching you closely as you play with twigs or leaves he hands you.

He thinks it's adorable, seeing you play around with them like a baby with building blocks, or something to that effect.

At first you didn't even bother wasting energy trying to entertain yourself, but with Cassian's expectant gaze boring holes into you, you figured doing something wouldn't hurt.

Playing around with various objects helps the time pass, too. It's not much, but better than nothing.

Soon enough, nightfall falls upon the forest once more.

One thing you have learned during the small handful of nights spent in captivity is that Winslow has a habit of sleep-cuddling, clinging, and often mumbling in his sleep. Sometimes you can understand his sleepy speech, other times it sounds like a bunch of slurred mumbles.

Your sleep schedule has become pretty unpredictable, having two "parents" who only spend a few hours awake at the same time normally.

Regardless, you think this might help your potential plan. If Winslow is holding you tightly, all you have to do is somehow wriggle out of his arms and tiptoe around Cassian in order to get to the opening of the cave.

And then hope you make it out without being caught, considering you'll be traversing the forest in almost complete darkness.

You toss and turn in Winslow's grip, which makes his grasp on you tighten even further. It's less suffocating than Cassian's, but still not pleasant. You let out a frustrated sigh. If you can get him to loosen his hold, you can crawl out.

With enough shifting and shimmying around in his grasp, it works.

His arms slip away from you, leaving you free. Somehow. It must be fate granting you this luck. A chance opportunity you'd be crazy not to take advantage of.

Your feet hit the cold stone floor quietly. It doesn't stir Winslow from his slumber at all. Just as you expected, though. He's a heavy sleeper.

The challenge is going to be sneaking past his husband, who you know is wide awake and probably outside now. At night he usually is hunting or collecting resources.

Or keeping watch.

If your luck is consistent, maybe he'll be off doing something else and your chances of successfully escaping will grow significantly.

All you know is you have to at least try.

You make your way to the entrance, pausing every time the leaves rustle or twigs crack under your feet.

Walking slowly is painful. All you want to do is run. Run out and never return.

The air becomes more crisp and cool as you approach the front of the cave. With a last glance behind you to ensure Winslow hasn't stirred, you inch yourself forward through the last stretch of tunnel leading into the wilderness. Moonlight shines through the leaves above you. Crickets chirp softly. Your eyes begin to adjust to the dim light of the forest.

There's a path. You're positive this trail leads back to the road that passes through the woods.

The faster you walk, the louder your movements become, snapping branches and crunching leaves under you. And still, you continue to push forward until you're practically sprinting through the foliage.

Your lungs burn, your limbs ache, and your muscles feel weak, but adrenaline pumps through your veins as you fight against the pain to reach your goal.

Finally, you spot a small sign marking where the path splits off into two directions; one leading to town, the other going deeper into the forest towards who knows where.

And then...

"I smell them," Cassian's voice rasps. He doesn't sound far away at all. "Sweetheart?! Where are you?!" he calls. "Oh, they must be so scared..."

Then, Winslow's voice. "We'll find them, darling. I won't let them get far."

You panic, diving into the nearest bush to hide. Its thorns dig into your skin painfully. You have to bite your hand in order to not cry out in pain. Tears stream down your face, but you dare not make a single noise. Your breathing slows to almost nothing as you struggle to contain sobs.

"How could this happen?" Cassian whispers. Just from the sound of his voice, you can tell he's been crying, too. "I can't lose another one, Winslow..."

"We won't, love. We won't. It'll be okay."

You can hear Cassian's choked sobbing now. They both must be nearby. Very nearby. Too close for comfort, that's for sure.

But if they're comforting each other, that means you can possibly sneak around them while they're distracted.

It's worth a shot. Maybe the only one you'll have.

As silently as possible, you crawl on your hands and knees away from the voices, making sure to avoid stepping anywhere near them in case they hear movement. They don't seem to notice, so you move faster, hoping to put distance between you.

Unfortunately, with how dark it is out here, you stumble upon a rock and fall face-first onto the ground with a loud thud.

Cassian's tearful sobbing stops suddenly.

Your heart pounds wildly.

"Oh, honey! B-Baba is coming, stay where you are," Cassian cries, followed by a deep inhale, no doubt to scent you out, now that he knows the general direction you're in.

The way he says it makes you wonder if he even thinks you purposefully tried escaping. Does he truly believe you think of them as your family?

Of course, you don't listen. You take off as fast as you can, climbing over fallen logs and weaving through the dense underbrush. Anything to get farther and farther away from where you are now. However, the more you move, the louder you become. More twigs and dry leaves crunching beneath you, no doubt leading them to you even more.

But what else are you supposed to do? It's not like you have many options at this point.

You need to escape.

Even though Cassian isn't quick, Winslow is.

And boy does he live up to that observation.

In a flash of golden scales, you're thrown to the ground. The dirt cakes onto you, and before you can fully react, Winslow scoops you up into his arms, holding you as tight as possible without crushing you. You thrash and kick as much as you can, trying desperately to break free from his iron-like grip.

"Don't worry! Papa's here! Ssh ssh ssh!" Winslow hushes, kissing your forehead frantically, like a worried parent. He's looking over your body, checking for new injuries or cuts you could've obtained.

Cassian catches up, much more out of breath. You can tell from the tremble in his tone how angry he is, how concerned, how hurt and betrayed he feels. He kneels down to meet you and Winslow's crouched position, hugging you both so tight you wheeze.

"Let me go!" you yell. At this point, you don't care about being silent to them anymore. "I'm not your kid!"

That startles them both. They stare at you with wide eyes, jaws slackened.

"You can... speak?" Winslow gawks. His pupils shrink into tiny slits.

"Did you think all humans couldn't speak, or did you just assume I couldn't?" You shake your head. "It doesn't matter. Let me go!" You try escaping with even more fervor, trying to claw your way out, anything.

"Honey," Cassian whispers, trembling. It's as if you've broken him, and part of you hates it. "This entire time you understood us...?"

"Yes! And I have my own family! Please, let me see my family!" you wail. This isn't fair. You didn't do anything wrong. "They probably think I died..." The thought alone makes you choke up with tears.

Winslow frowns, turning his face to bury himself into your hair. "You are home," he croaks. His hug on you gets stronger.

"No I'm not!" you protest. You bite down on Winslow's arm, hard enough to draw blood. He recoils, which gives you a brief window of opportunity, allowing you to slip through their hands momentarily.

Cassian wastes no time in recapturing you. "Stop, please stop! You'll get yourself hurt!" he pleads. It's not long before you're completely trapped by his tail wrapping around you snugly once more.

"No! You stole me from my life! I can't stay here!" you cry, struggling harder against his coils. "Please!"

Cassian frowns, exchanging glances with Winslow, who looks more equally frustrated and hurt. His hand holds the bleeding bitemark. You refuse to feel guilty for it. Winslow looks ready to scold you, but Cassian puts his free hand on his forearm.

"They don't know any better, sweetheart," Cassian tells him, expression strained. "They're just frightened and overwhelmed."

Winslow's anger wanes a little bit.

"But, we saved them! Why don't they understand that?" Winslow asks desperately, as if you still can't communicate. He runs his fingers through his hair nervously, looking down at you like he needs validation from you that he's done a good job taking care of you.

You don't want to give that to him.

"I don't belong here," you protest, squirming around angrily in your cocoon of Cassian's tail.

"You do belong here," Cassian argues. His expression turns upset to worried when he notices how hard you're breathing. "Breathe, dear. You're going to hyperventilate."

When your breathing only gets worse, he cups your cheeks and guides your head to tilt upwards, looking him directly in the eyes.

His eyes are glowing, colors swirling inside of them.

"Breath slow," he commands. "Follow Baba."

As Cassian counts up and down, demonstrating to you with exaggerated breaths, Winslow rubs your back soothingly with the hand that isn't injured, making shushing noises in hopes of calming you down.

And unfortunately, it works. You feel tired, so much so that even thinking is hard.

"Calm now, sweetie? No more fussing?" he coos hopefully. The strange swirls in his irises are gone now.

"...Mhm..." you murmur reluctantly, barely audible. Your eyelids flutter open and closed, feeling weighed down as if lead is tied to them. Drowsiness settles deep within your bones. There's no use in fighting against it. Not right now, anyway. Sleep wins over escape, apparently. You rest your head against his shoulder defeatedly.

"There we are..." Cassian whispers. "No more running."

Winslow looks around. "We should start heading home. I can carry them back, you look tired." Winslow holds out his arms expectantly.

Cassian hesitates briefly before handing you off to Winslow's embrace, where he proceeds to snuggle you closer into his chest.

"Are you sure? I did wake you up early..."

"I'll be okay, love," Winslow smiles tiredly. "Besides, I'd feel better having them in my arms right now. I'm still processing that they could understand us this whole time..." he sighs.

Cassian frowns sadly, brushing the hair off of your forehead. "Me too... but that's a conversation for tomorrow. Let's go home"

#parental yandere #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #hypnosis #familial yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #cassian oc #winslow oc #yandere oc #yandere naga #multiple yanderes

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carnalcrows · 4 months ago

Text

DETENTION - GWINAM

pairing: yoon gwi nam x top male reader

synopsis: The real infection here is horniness pt.4 ( i am running out of caption ideas pls help me)

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex (?), no apocalypse AU, dry humping, anal, reader is the school president

word count: 1.3k

The school hallways were mostly empty, save for the occasional echo of a rushed student or the muffled chatter from classrooms. But near the lockers, that peace was utterly destroyed by none other than Yoon Gwi-nam and his pack of glorified background characters—Jae-ho and Min-jae.

They had some poor kid cornered, Gwi-nam’s voice full of that cocky, drawling amusement as he pushed his victim up against the metal, making some smartass remark that had his minions laughing on cue.

You weren’t having it.

“Hey,” your voice cut through the noise, sharp and demanding, making all three freeze like deer caught in headlights.

Gwi-nam turned, eyes narrowing when he saw you. His posture didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—annoyance, maybe? Resentment? Or just the instinctive urge to challenge anyone who thought they could talk down to him?

“What?” he drawled, turning slightly to face you, shoulders loose, cocky smirk already forming. “School president’s got somethin’ to say? Gonna give me a lecture?”

You exhaled slowly, stepping forward until you were right in front of him. He didn’t back up. Neither did you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice steady. “What, picking on people makes you feel big?”

Gwi-nam’s expression twitched, but he didn’t lose that arrogant smirk. “Yeah, actually,” he said, tilting his head. “What, you wanna try it? Bet it’d look real funny seeing you act all tough.”

Jae-ho and Min-jae chuckled behind him, but you ignored them completely, eyes locked onto Gwi-nam’s.

You sighed, then—fast as a whip—grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the lockers. The metal rattled loudly, echoing down the hallway. Jae-ho and Min-jae immediately shut up, wide-eyed, but didn’t make a move to help their so-called leader.

Gwi-nam let out a sharp grunt, hands instinctively coming up to shove you away, but you were stronger than he expected. Your grip stayed firm, forearm pressing against his chest. His breath hitched for half a second—not in fear, but surprise. He hadn’t thought you had it in you.

You leaned in, dropping your voice. "You’re all talk, aren’t you?" Your breath was warm against his ear. "But I know what kind of guy you really are."

Gwi-nam tensed. "The hell’s that supposed to mean?" he hissed, voice just barely steady.

"You act tough, but the second someone stands up to you, you fold." You smirked, pressing him harder against the lockers. "Like right now."

His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, but he didn’t have a comeback. His hands curled into fists, gripping the fabric of your blazer, but he didn’t push you off.

“Apologize,” you said.

Gwi-nam scoffed. “The fuck?”

You yanked his head back by his hair. His breath hitched audibly this time, neck arching slightly. His hands twitched where they gripped your blazer.

"Say. You’re. Sorry," you repeated, slow and firm.

For the first time, Gwi-nam hesitated. His pride and instincts were at war. He hated this—hated being told what to do, hated how you weren’t scared of him. And yet, his body wasn’t moving away.

Jae-ho and Min-jae looked so uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly like they didn’t know whether to intervene or run.

“Alright, fine,” Gwi-nam bit out, voice tight. His teeth were clenched like the words physically pained him. “I’m fucking sorry. Happy now, boss?"

You let out a soft hum, tilting your head as you let go of his hair. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

His glare was deadly, but he didn’t fight it.

You turned to the kid he’d been bullying. “Go,” you said. “You’re good.”

The kid didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted, sparing one last glance at Gwi-nam, then disappearing around the corner.

Min-jae awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll—uh—catch up with you later, man.”

Jae-ho gave Gwi-nam a look before mumbling something under his breath and following Min-jae down the hall, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence was heavy.

Gwi-nam rolled his jaw, flexing his hands before glaring at you. “Hope you feel real fucking proud of yourself,” he muttered.

You gave him a once-over, then grabbed his wrist.

“Hey—?!” He barely had time to react before you dragged him down the hall, pushing open the door to an empty classroom and shoving him inside.

The second the door clicked shut, he whirled on you. “What the hell is your prob—”

You had him against the wall before he could finish.

This time, the silence was different.

Gwi-nam’s breath was uneven, his head tilted back slightly against the wall as you crowded into his space. The tension was thick—but not the kind of tension that led to a fight. Not anymore.

You could see it in the way his lips parted slightly, the way his pupils had dilated just a little. He liked this—he just didn’t want to admit it.

"You like being put in your place, don’t you?" you murmured, watching the way his throat bobbed.

His jaw clenched. "Fuck off."

But he wasn’t pushing you away.

You tilted your head. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

He sucked in a breath, but still—no answer.

Your smirk widened. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

And then you kissed him.

It was rough. You weren’t giving him a choice, and he wasn’t taking one. His mouth opened under yours before he could think better of it, teeth clashing, breath uneven.

It was sloppy—desperate, hot, full of the kind of tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface for months. His hands finally moved, gripping at your shirt, tugging you closer.

He growled against your mouth when you bit down on his lower lip, yanking at his hair again. His hips twitched forward before he could stop himself.

“Shit,” he mumbled, half against your lips, half under his breath.

You grinned. "You like this."

He didn’t answer.

But the way his breath came faster, the way his hips kept shifting ever so slightly against yours—yeah. You knew.

You ran a hand down his chest, slipping under the hem of his shirt just slightly. His skin was hot, muscles tensing under your touch.

His eyes fluttered shut for half a second—just long enough for you to grind against him, making him gasp.

"Fuck," he hissed, grip tightening on your clothes.

You chuckled against his lips, slow and deliberate as you rolled your hips against his again. He was panting now, forehead resting against yours, trying to keep himself together.

"Still wanna act all tough?" you murmured, dragging your lips down his jaw, then his neck.

His response was a low, strangled noise—half a growl, half a groan—as his fingers dug into your back.

—

Gwi-nam was a wreck.

His breath hitched, his fingers grasping at your blazer like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His usual arrogance, his defiance—it was gone. All that remained was the mess you’d turned him into, his body betraying him in ways he’d never let anyone else see.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice slow, teasing. "You think you’re tough now, huh?"

A choked noise left his throat—something between a whimper and a groan.

You rolled your hips again, drawing another desperate noise from him, and smirked. "I thought you wanted it rough, love. Can’t you take it?"

Gwi-nam’s grip tightened—not in control, but in surrender. His forehead thumped against your shoulder, his breathing ragged, his body reacting to the way your cock slipped in and out of his hole, hitting his sweet spot with almost every thrust.

"Shit, shit, shit—" His voice was nothing but a broken murmur now, his pride shattered under your hands.

You chuckled, enjoying this—enjoying him like this. "That’s what I thought."

And just when things were reaching their peak—when he was fully lost in you, when the only sounds in the room were his breathy moans and the way you were wrecking him—

click.

The door unlocked.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The handle twitched like someone was testing it—but then, after a second, they hesitated.

You swore you heard a muttered, "Nope. Not dealing with that."

And then, silence.

You exhaled a laugh, barely even phased. "Guess they know better than to interrupt."

Gwi-nam groaned, burying his burning face into your shoulder. "Shut up."

You just smirked. "Make me."

This was going to be a long fucking day.

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serapharua · 6 months ago

Text

HYBRID ENHYPEN reaction to you during your ovulation period . . . !

enhypen 0T7 — GENRE : imagines headcanon hybrid au suggestive fluff — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : tension — REQUESTED : yes <3

HEESEUNG (deer hybrid) :

The moment you walked into the room, Heeseung’s head snapped up, his amber eyes immediately locking onto you. His soft, deer-like ears twitched as he shifted on the couch, his posture subtly tense.

“Hey,” you greeted casually, setting your bag down on the table.

“Hi,” he replied, though his voice came out softer than usual, almost distracted. His gaze lingered on you longer than necessary, as if he was studying every detail of you.

You tilted your head, noticing how his nose flared slightly, and a faint blush crept up his cheeks. “You okay? You seem… off.”

Heeseung cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away, though his ears flicked back in your direction, betraying his focus. “I’m fine,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

But as you stepped closer, his reaction became more obvious. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and his usually composed demeanor faltered.

“What’s wrong?” you pressed, sitting down next to him.

The proximity seemed to affect him immediately. His shoulders stiffened, and his ears flattened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his eyes darted toward you, conflicted and a little hazy. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, though the way he leaned ever so slightly toward you told a different story.

You reached out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, and that’s when it clicked. His ears twitched, and his gaze flickered to your hand before returning to your face, his pupils slightly dilated.

“Heeseung…” you started, piecing it together.

He sighed, his face flushing even more as he avoided your gaze. “It’s your scent,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… stronger than usual.”

Your cheeks heated at his confession, and you couldn’t help but tease, “What, do I smell bad?”

His head shot up, his eyes wide with panic. “No! That’s not it at all.” He hesitated before adding, “It’s… distracting. It’s warm, sweet… just—” He stopped himself, biting his lip as his ears twitched again.

You couldn’t suppress your smile as you scooted closer, watching how his breath hitched at the movement. “So, I’m distracting you?”

Heeseung groaned, leaning back into the couch as if to create some distance, though his body betrayed him by leaning back toward you again. “You don’t understand,” he muttered. “It’s not just distracting. It’s like… I can’t focus on anything else when you’re this close.”

You tilted your head, your smile turning playful. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

His gaze locked onto yours, his deer-like instincts warring with his rational side. Finally, he exhaled a shaky breath and leaned forward, his forehead lightly pressing against yours. “Just… let me stay close,” he whispered, his voice low and laced with vulnerability. “I’ll try not to lose control, but don’t move away, okay?”

You nodded, your heart racing as his fingers brushed yours. His warmth and the subtle way his ears twitched told you that he was holding himself back—barely. For now, being close was enough for him, but the intensity in his gaze made it clear how deeply his instincts were pulling him toward you.

JAY (hawk hybrid) :

Jay was pacing when you entered the room, his tail feathers swishing in subtle agitation. His sharp amber eyes snapped to you immediately, narrowing ever so slightly before softening. You barely had time to drop your bag before he crossed the distance, standing so close that his presence felt overwhelming.

“Uh, Jay?” you asked, blinking at the intensity in his gaze.

He didn’t answer at first, his eyes roaming over you as if he was trying to figure something out. His nostrils flared slightly, and his jaw tensed. Finally, he let out a low breath, his voice coming out in a quiet murmur. “You smell different.”

You froze, caught off guard by his bluntness. “I… what?”

He shook his head as if frustrated with himself, his feathers ruffling slightly behind him. “I can’t explain it, but it’s—” He stopped himself, stepping back briefly before leaning closer again, drawn in despite his obvious attempt to keep some distance. “It’s… driving me crazy.”

You felt your cheeks heat under his intense gaze. “In a bad way?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Jay’s lips twitched into a brief smirk before his usual cool composure faltered again. “No, not bad. Just… distracting.” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, his tail feathers flicking restlessly behind him. “You’re messing with my focus.”

You tilted your head, a small grin tugging at your lips. “What, am I too irresistible for you now?”

Jay huffed, though the faint blush creeping up his neck gave him away. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, stepping even closer. The warmth radiating from him was undeniable now, and you could see the faint tension in his shoulders as he fought to keep himself in check. “It’s not just that. It’s like… every instinct in me is telling me to stay close to you.”

“Then stay,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

Jay stilled at your words, his sharp eyes meeting yours with a flicker of vulnerability. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “If I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself from… wanting more.”

His honesty made your heart race, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his. “Then don’t hold back.”

For a moment, Jay stared at you, his pupils dilated as his instincts clearly took over. He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound a mix of amusement and resignation. “You’re going to be the end of me, you know that?”

But even as he said it, he leaned in, his head dipping toward yours as his hand ghosted over your waist. His touch was hesitant at first, but the way his tail feathers stilled behind him told you he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

JAKE (wolf hybrid) :

Jake’s presence had been unusually heavy all day. Every time you moved, his sharp gaze followed, his golden eyes darkened by something you couldn’t quite name. He’d been lingering closer than usual, the faintest growl rumbling in his chest whenever anyone else approached you.

“Jake, are you okay?” you asked, finally confronting him when his hovering reached its peak.

He was sitting on the couch, but at your words, he straightened, his ears twitching slightly. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though his voice was rougher than usual.

You frowned, stepping closer, and that was all it took for him to tense. His nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated as he stared up at you. “You’re… different today,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rasp.

“What do you mean, different?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jake didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned forward, his nose brushing the air near your shoulder as if he couldn’t help himself. His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, and when he opened them, they were clouded with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s your scent,” he admitted, his voice strained. “It’s… stronger. Sweet. Addictive.”

Your cheeks flushed as his words sank in. “Oh,” was all you managed, suddenly hyperaware of his closeness.

Jake groaned, dragging a hand through his hair as his tail swished restlessly behind him. “You don’t understand what it’s doing to me,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “Every instinct is screaming at me to—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching.

“To what?” you asked softly, stepping even closer.

Jake’s eyes darted to yours, and for a moment, it looked like he was about to pull away. But then something shifted. His hands shot out, grabbing your waist gently but firmly as he pulled you closer. His nose brushed against your neck, and a low, guttural sound escaped him.

“To stay close,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “To protect you. To keep you all to myself.”

You placed a hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Jake, it’s okay,” you said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His ears flicked slightly, and his grip on your waist tightened just enough to make your heart race. “You say that now,” he muttered, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smile despite the tension in his posture. “But don’t blame me if I stick a little too close for the next few days.”

As his head dipped again, his nose brushing softly against your temple, you couldn’t help but laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

SUNGHOON (snow leopard hybrid) :

Sunghoon had been unusually quiet all day, though his actions spoke louder than words. His sharp, icy gaze followed you everywhere, his silver-tipped tail flicking restlessly behind him. Anytime you passed by, he’d subtly shift closer, his movements fluid but deliberate, like a predator drawn to something it couldn’t resist.

You were rummaging through a cupboard when you felt his presence behind you—closer than usual. Turning, you found Sunghoon standing just a breath away, his head tilted slightly, his feline ears twitching as his cool, gray eyes locked onto yours.

“Sunghoon?” you asked, your voice soft yet curious.

His pupils dilated slightly, the faintest growl rumbling in his chest before he quickly smoothed his expression. “What?” he said, his voice calm but low, almost as if he were restraining himself.

“You’ve been acting strange,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before snapping back to yours. “It’s nothing,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. But the way his nose flared ever so slightly, like he was catching a scent in the air, betrayed him.

You raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t seem like nothing,” you pressed, stepping closer.

That was when you noticed the subtle hitch in his breath, his tail freezing mid-swish before flicking again. He let out a sigh, his hand brushing the back of his neck as if to steady himself. “It’s… your scent,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost shy.

“My scent?” you repeated, your cheeks flushing.

“It’s stronger,” he continued, his tone a mix of frustration and awe. “It’s… distracting.” His icy eyes softened, though the tension in his posture remained. “Every time I catch it, it’s like I can’t think straight.”

You stepped even closer, and this time, Sunghoon didn’t back away. If anything, he leaned toward you, his sharp features softening as he gazed down at you.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” you teased, your voice light despite the flutter in your chest.

Sunghoon’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk, his tail brushing against your leg as he closed the distance even more. “Because it’s embarrassing,” he muttered, though his voice carried a rare vulnerability.

“Embarrassing?” you echoed with a small laugh. “You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

His ears flattened slightly, a faint pink dusting his pale cheeks. “Yeah, well, it’s not easy when you smell… like that,” he said, his voice dipping into a husky murmur as his fingers grazed your wrist.

You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Like what?”

His smirk returned, a little bolder this time, as he leaned in, his nose brushing against your hair. “Like something I can’t stay away from.”

Your breath hitched as his hand found its way to your waist, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity in his gaze. “Then don’t,” you whispered, your words barely audible.

Sunghoon’s smirk softened into a rare, genuine smile as he pulled you closer, his tail curling slightly around your ankle. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to.”

SUNOO (fox hybrid) :

Sunoo had always been affectionate, but today, there was a new intensity in the way he hovered around you. His fox ears twitched every time you moved, and his golden eyes followed your every step, a glint of curiosity and something deeper flickering in them.

You were sitting on the couch, trying to focus on your book, when Sunoo appeared beside you for the fifth time that afternoon. His tail swayed lazily behind him, brushing against your leg as he plopped down far too close.

“Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him with a raised brow.

He rested his chin on his hand, his gaze fixed on you as a soft hum left his lips. “Mmhmm,” he replied, though the way his nose subtly crinkled as if catching a faint scent told you otherwise.

“You’ve been acting… clingier than usual,” you pointed out, closing your book and setting it aside.

Sunoo’s cheeks flushed slightly, though his expression remained playful. “Clingy? Me?” he teased, his voice lilting with faux innocence.

“Yes, you,” you said, leaning closer to study his face.

The second you moved closer, Sunoo’s breath caught, his eyes widening briefly before his signature mischievous grin returned. “Maybe I just missed you,” he said smoothly, though the way his tail twitched gave away his restlessness.

“Missed me? We’ve been together all day,” you said with a laugh.

He leaned in slightly, his nose almost brushing your shoulder as he inhaled softly. His ears flicked back, and his grin softened into something more genuine. “You smell… really nice today,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost shy.

Your cheeks warmed at his unexpected confession. “Sunoo…”

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his tail swishing faster behind him. “It’s like… every time you’re near, I can’t focus on anything else. You’re driving me crazy.”

His bold words left you momentarily speechless, and he took the opportunity to nudge even closer, his golden eyes locked onto yours. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know… is it?”

Sunoo’s playful grin returned, but this time, it was softer, warmer. “Not at all,” he said, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch lingered, his fingers trailing down to cup your cheek.

His ears twitched slightly, and his tail curled around your leg, drawing you even closer. “Actually,” he added with a sly smile, “I think it’s my favorite thing about today.”

Before you could respond, Sunoo closed the distance, resting his forehead against yours. His scent, a mix of sweet and earthy, enveloped you as he whispered, “So, can you blame me for wanting to stay close?”

You shook your head, your own smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all.”

JUNGWON (panther hybrid) :

Jungwon was usually composed, a perfect balance of quiet strength and calm observation, but today was different. You noticed the subtle changes immediately—the way his golden eyes lingered on you, the quiet hum in his throat whenever you got too far, and the possessive curl of his tail around your leg when you sat together.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you stir something on the stove. His panther ears twitched at every little sound you made, but it was his eyes that betrayed him. They were fixated, intense, like he was tracking your every move.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now,” you teased, glancing at him over your shoulder.

Jungwon blinked, his tail flicking behind him in slow, deliberate movements. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice soft but with a velvety undertone that made your stomach flip. “You smell… different today.”

“Different?” you asked, raising a brow.

He took a step closer, his footsteps silent, a predator’s grace in every movement. He didn’t answer right away, instead leaning over you, his chest brushing against your back as he inhaled deeply. His nose brushed your neck briefly before he pulled back, a low rumble of approval escaping him.

“Good,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper, but the way it lingered made your pulse quicken.

“Jungwon…” you started, only to trail off when you turned and saw the way he was looking at you—soft yet undeniably possessive, as if you were the only thing in his world right now.

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks.

“I should be asking you that,” he replied, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “You’re… driving me crazy.”

You blinked, surprised by his bluntness. “I am?”

He stepped even closer, his tail brushing against your arm now, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah,” he admitted, his lips quirking into a small smile. “You smell so good, it’s hard to think straight.”

Your breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested on the counter. He hesitated for a moment, as if debating something, before finally intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s not just the scent,” he added, his voice dropping lower. “It’s… everything about you. I just… I want to stay close to you. Is that okay?”

You nodded, your voice caught somewhere in your throat. “Of course.”

Jungwon’s smile softened, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His tail swished lazily behind him, a clear sign of his contentment. “Because I don’t think I could handle being anywhere else right now.”

NIKI (tiger hybrid) :

Niki had been acting strange all day. Not in an obvious way, but you noticed the small shifts—the way his amber eyes tracked your every move, the way his ears twitched in your direction even when he was pretending not to notice you, and especially the way his tail swished behind him with an energy that betrayed his restlessness.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone, when he finally broke. He flopped down next to you, closer than usual, his shoulder brushing yours. His tiger tail looped lazily around your leg, and he leaned back with a dramatic sigh.

“You smell different today,” he said casually, though there was nothing casual about the way his gaze lingered on you.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he considered you. “Good different. Addictive different,” he said with a grin, though his voice held a seriousness that made your cheeks heat.

“Niki,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, “are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated, his grin widening. “That’s a funny question coming from you when you’re the one driving me insane.”

Before you could respond, he shifted closer, his broad frame towering over you even as he leaned in playfully. His nose brushed against your neck briefly as he inhaled deeply, a low, satisfied rumble escaping his chest.

“You smell too good,” he teased, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His smile was mischievous, but there was a flicker of something deeper behind it—something wild, untamed. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doing what on purpose?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly.

“Making it impossible for me to focus,” he said, his tail tightening slightly around your leg as he leaned in closer. “I feel like… I need to keep you close. Like really close.”

You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he shot back, his sharp grin softening into something more genuine. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing yours before curling around them. “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.”

“Niki—”

“I mean it,” he cut you off, his voice lower now, more serious. “You’re… everything to me. So if I’m a little more touchy today, just… bear with me, okay?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to find the right words to respond. His grin returned, softer this time, and he leaned back slightly, his tail still resting firmly around you.

“Good,” he murmured, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Word count : 3329 | serapharua, 2025.

746 notes · View notes

zeroseuniverse · 5 months ago

Text

Loser Baby

Word Count: 554 Summary: Heeseung’s grin only widened at the sight. "So? What happened?" Niki looked at him, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the right words. "I... I don’t know." Pairing: Niki X Fem Reader

Navigation

It was a quiet afternoon at the practice room when Niki, with a determined look on his face, marched past Heeseung who was leaning lazily against the wall.

"I’m going to talk to her," Niki announced, his voice unusually confident.

Heeseung looked up, eyebrow raised, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Good luck! You’re gonna need it."

Niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of nervous excitement in his posture. He had been quietly harboring feelings for you for a while now, and today, he was determined to make his move. He stepped out of the practice room, heading toward the lounge where you were sitting, reading a book.

Heeseung watched him go, shaking his head with a knowing smile. "This is gonna be good."

Ten seconds later, Niki came back into the room, looking completely flustered. His cheeks were flushed, his posture rigid. He looked like he had just seen a ghost.

Heeseung’s grin only widened at the sight. "So? What happened?"

Niki looked at him, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the right words. "I... I don’t know."

Heeseung chuckled. "You can’t be serious. You’ve been talking about this moment for days, and you froze after ten seconds?"

Niki groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "She smiled at me, Heeseung. She smiled. It was like... like everything just froze."

Heeseung blinked in disbelief. "What do you mean? You’ve been practicing for this, right? You were ready to go up and talk to her."

"I was!" Niki protested, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought I was prepared for it, but then she looked up, smiled at me like... like I was the most important person in the room, and I just... froze."

Heeseung couldn’t hold back a laugh. "You’re telling me you froze after a smile? What happened to the confident Niki I know?"

Niki let out a dramatic sigh, throwing himself into one of the chairs. "I’m a mess. I swear, I can talk to anyone else without issue, but when it’s her... my brain just goes blank."

Heeseung shook his head, trying to suppress his amusement. "You seriously need to get a grip. It’s just a smile. It’s not like she’s asking you to solve the world’s problems."

"I know, I know," Niki muttered, rubbing his face. "But she smiled at me like I was something important, and it threw me off! I couldn’t handle it."

"Alright, alright," Heeseung said, walking over and patting Niki on the back. "Next time, don’t just stand there like a deer in headlights. Smile back, say something, anything. You got this."

Niki looked up at him with wide eyes. "You think I can do it?"

Heeseung shrugged. "Of course. But next time, try not to freeze up. I’m not gonna be here to bail you out every time."

Niki nodded slowly, a determined look crossing his face. "I’ll get it right next time. I just need to be ready for their smiles."

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Good luck with that. You’ll need it."

As Niki left to gather his thoughts and muster the courage to try again, Heeseung watched him go, secretly rooting for him. He couldn’t wait to see how the next round of Niki’s attempt at talking to you would go.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #enhypen #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha #enhypen imagines #niki enhypen #niki fluff #niki scenarios #niki x reader #nishimura riki #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki fluff #riki fluff #riki x reader #riki imagines

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heeluvv · 5 months ago

Text

LOVENOTES.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ shy! sim jaeyun x reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ blowjob, sub! jake, praise kink, overstimulation, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the first time you find one, it’s slipped between the pages of your notebook, tucked so carefully that it could have easily gone unnoticed. a small, folded piece of paper, slightly crinkled at the edges, as if whoever wrote it had second-guessed themselves a dozen times before finally mustering the courage to leave it there.

your fingers tremble slightly as you unfold it.

"you look really nice today."

it’s not signed. there’s nothing to indicate who wrote it, no distinctive handwriting that you can immediately recognize. just a simple, almost shy admission written in neat, slanted script.

you glance around the room, scanning the faces of your classmates, wondering who might be watching, waiting for your reaction. but no one meets your gaze. no one looks even remotely suspicious.

it becomes a pattern after that.

every few days, another note appears. in your locker, slipped into the pocket of your bag, between the pages of your textbook. always handwritten, always short, always unsigned.

"the way you laugh makes my whole day better."

"i wish I had the courage to talk to you."

"you’re beautiful in ways i can’t put into words."

the anonymity should make you uneasy, but it doesn’t. there’s something so earnest about them, so completely genuine, that all you feel is warmth spreading through your chest each time you find a new one.

and then, you start to notice.

the way jake stares a little too long when he thinks you aren’t looking. the way he fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie whenever you walk into the room. the way his face turns an unmistakable shade of red if you so much as smile in his direction.

jake, who barely speaks to you, who stumbles over his words whenever you ask him a question, who always seems to be lingering near but never quite close enough.

jake, whose handwriting—now that you’re paying attention—looks an awful lot like the one on the notes you’ve been collecting.

the realization sends your heart racing. you don’t say anything at first, don’t confront him, don’t let on that you might know. instead, you watch. you notice the way his hands twitch as if resisting the urge to reach for something, the way he swallows hard when your fingers graze his as you both reach for the same book.

one day, you decide to test your theory.

you wait until class ends, until the hallway is mostly empty, until you see jake stuffing his books into his bag, his movements tense and deliberate. with a deep breath, you step closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his desk as you pass by.

“you know,” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “whoever’s been leaving me those notes… i hope they know i’d really like to meet them.”

his hands freeze, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. slowly, he lifts his head, and for the first time, you watch as an entire storm of emotions flickers across his face—panic, hope, something dangerously close to longing.

you let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and teasing, as you slowly made your way around his desk, closing the space between you with an easy confidence. now standing directly in front of him, you could see it clearly—the way his fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, knuckles paling as if holding on for dear life. his posture was stiff, his breath unsteady, and his eyes, wide with something between panic and anticipation, flickered up to meet yours. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, caught red-handed, though for once, it was in the best way possible.

your gaze drops briefly to the bag clutched in his hands, the very thing that exposed him, the very thing that gave away the thoughts he had so carefully tucked away in ink and paper. you tilt your head slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes as you shift your focus back to him.

"i love the way you write about me, jakey..." you murmur, voice soft but laced with something undeniably knowing, undeniably intoxicating. the new nickname rolls off your tongue so smoothly, so naturally, as if it’s always belonged to you. you watch the way his breath stutters, the way his grip on the bag falters for just a fraction of a second before tightening again, as if he’s unsure whether to pull it closer or let it slip from his grasp entirely.

you reach out with slow, deliberate movements, fingers barely brushing against his skin as you push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. the metal frames are cool under your touch, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his flushed face. you don’t miss the way he tenses at the contact, his breath hitching, his shoulders going rigid as if the mere proximity of your hand is enough to unravel him.

the moment lingers, thick with something unspoken, something heavy. his wide, nervous eyes flicker between yours, unsure of where to look, unsure of what to do with himself. and maybe it’s that uncertainty, that helplessness, that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat coil low in your abdomen. because he’s so easy to tease, so easy to break down with just the right touch, just the right words.

your hand remains close, the space between you nearly nonexistent now, your face mere inches from his. he smells good—clean, warm, faint traces of something familiar that only makes you want to lean in even further. your lips curl into something wicked, something teasing, as you let out a soft hum, watching the way he swallows thickly, his fingers twitching slightly where they rest against his lap, as if unsure whether to move or stay perfectly still.

"what's wrong, jakey?" you purr, voice dripping with amusement, with mock concern. your tone is light, playful, but your eyes say something else entirely—something darker, something knowing. you drink in his reaction, how he squirms under your gaze, how he shifts slightly in his seat as if trying to escape the intensity of the moment.

and god, you love it. love the way he looks at you, love the way he stammers, love the way he seems so completely at your mercy. it’s intoxicating, so much so that you feel the heat pooling between your legs, a slow, aching throb that only grows the longer you watch him squirm.

your fingers find their way into his hair, burying themselves in the soft, fluffy strands as if they belong there, as if they were always meant to tangle and twist in the dark locks. you take your time, twirling the strands lazily around your fingers, feeling their silky texture between each gentle tug. the motion is slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic, and yet, it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes never leave his.

he’s frozen, wide-eyed and breathless, his lips parting slightly as if he wants to say something—anything—but the words never come. maybe it’s because your touch is too much, too intimate, too intoxicating. or maybe it’s the way you tilt your head slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you lean in just enough for your breath to fan against his flushed skin.

"you want me, jakey?" you murmur, voice dripping with a teasing lilt, each syllable slow, savoring the moment. you don’t need his answer—you already know. it’s written all over him, from the way his body tenses beneath your touch to the way his fingers curl helplessly against his thighs, unsure whether to grab onto something or keep trembling in place.

your lips ghost over his cheek, barely grazing the flushed skin before dragging toward his ear, slow and torturous. the warmth of your breath sends a visible shiver down his spine, and when you finally let your lips brush against the sensitive shell of his ear, it’s like he completely unravels.

a soft, broken whimper escapes him, followed by a quiet, shuddering breath as his body betrays him, squirming, pressing further into his seat as if trying to ground himself. his grip tightens against the fabric of his pants, knuckles white, every muscle in his body strained as he struggles to maintain some semblance of composure.

but it’s useless—you can feel it, see it, the way he’s already falling apart from something as simple as your touch, your voice, your lips barely even touching him. and god, you love it. you love the way he melts under you, love the way he reacts, so sweet, so helpless. it only makes you want to push further, to see just how much more he can take before he completely breaks.

"please... please..." he whimpered, voice trembling, thick with desperation. his breath hitched as his hips instinctively bucked, the fabric of his pants doing little to hide the way his cock twitched, aching for attention—aching for you. he was restless, every muscle in his body coiled tight with anticipation, needing more, needing anything you were willing to give him.

"hmm, you've been such a good boy, jakey..." you cooed, voice dripping with sweet amusement as you let your fingertips trace lightly over his clothed thighs, feeling the tension beneath them. with a slow, deliberate movement, you gripped the arms of his chair and pushed it back, creating just enough space for you to sink down onto your knees before him. the sight of him like this—eyes glassy with lust, lips parted, breath shaky—only fueled your desire to tease him even further.

your hands roamed, starting at his thighs, kneading the firm muscle beneath your palms before sliding up, up, towards his waist. you could feel the heat radiating from him, his body reacting to your every touch. with a slow, torturous motion, you let your fingers ghost back down, stopping just before where he needed you most. his breath came out in shallow pants, his fingers gripping the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"you want this really bad, jakey?" you murmured, voice low, sultry, teasing as your gaze dropped to the straining bulge in his pants. he let out a desperate little whine, shifting in his seat as though that might somehow alleviate the throbbing ache between his legs. his need was palpable, his body screaming for you even when his words failed him.

your fingers trailed up to his zipper, slow and deliberate, the sound of metal teeth parting filling the air as you dragged it down with agonizing ease. his breath hitched, body tensing beneath your touch, every fiber of his being reacting to the way your fingers brushed against him—light, teasing, knowing.

his thighs twitched, his hips shifting as he tried to hold himself still, but the anticipation was too much, too overwhelming. he squirmed, his breath coming out in broken, needy gasps, chest rising and falling rapidly as you took your time, relishing the way he unraveled right in front of you.

"please... y/n..." he whimpered, voice strained, thick with desperation. the sound sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way his resolve was crumbling, piece by piece. he was so vulnerable like this—so beautifully, helplessly desperate for your touch.

your hands moved with a teasing slowness as you hooked your fingers around the waistband of his pants, dragging them down inch by inch. the fabric clung to him, as if even his clothes refused to part with the heat radiating off his body. you could feel how tense he was, how his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips, his thighs trembling ever so slightly as you peeled away the final barrier keeping him from you.

his boxers slipped down in the same motion, and the moment they were low enough, his cock sprang free, slapping back against his abdomen with a soft, almost lewd sound. the sight alone made your breath catch—so hard, so flushed, twitching with every tiny movement, as if aching for any kind of relief.

a choked moan escaped his lips, his head tipping back against the chair, fingers digging into the chair as he tried to ground himself against the intensity of it all. he was completely exposed to you now, vulnerable and needy, his entire body betraying just how badly he wanted this—wanted you.

your fingers wrapped around his length, warmth radiating from him, his skin burning hot beneath your touch. the moment you made contact, a sharp gasp tore through his lips, followed by a broken whine that sent shivers straight down your spine. he was already so worked up, so desperate—his cock twitching in your grip, thick beads of precum spilling from the swollen tip, trailing down in glistening strands. the sight alone made your mouth water, the way it throbbed, the way his body reacted to even the slightest touch.

his hands flew back, fingers gripping onto the edge of the desk behind him, knuckles turning white as he tried to ground himself. his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his lips parting as more sounds spilled from him—needy, unfiltered, shameless moans that only made your desire to ruin him even stronger.

"f-fuck... y/n..." he whimpered, voice cracking, hips instinctively bucking up into your hand, chasing even the slightest bit of friction.

your grip tightened just a little, testing, teasing, watching as his whole body tensed at the sensation. you started slow, agonizingly slow, your fingers stroking him in soft, deliberate movements, dragging up from the base, squeezing lightly just under the tip before gliding back down. each stroke had him gasping, his thighs trembling on either side of you, his entire body completely at your mercy.

"so fucking big, jakey..." you murmured, voice laced with both admiration and teasing, your thumb circling the tip, spreading the precum that dripped so generously from him.

his head tipped back against the chair, mouth falling open as a deep, shaky moan left him. he looked so wrecked already, so beautifully desperate, his body betraying just how much he wanted—no, needed—your touch.

your hands moved faster now, each stroke slick and effortless, his cock completely coated in his own precum, the lewd wet sounds of it filling the space between you. the way it dripped down, pooling at the base, only fueled the heat simmering in your core, making you tighten your grip just enough to make him shudder.

"y/n—!.." he choked out, voice breaking into a desperate whine as his head fell back against the chair, exposing the long column of his throat. his eyes screwed shut, lips parted, breath coming out in sharp, uneven pants, his whole body trembling beneath your touch. his fingers clawed at the desk behind him, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.

"you're doing so good, baby... fuck..." you purred, voice thick with hunger, your eyes drinking in every little detail—the way his brows knitted together in pleasure, the way his muscles tensed with every stroke, the way his thighs quivered on either side of you, completely at your mercy.

but what really drove you insane was the way he whined for more, how his body instinctively chased your touch, his hips stuttering forward despite how hard he tried to keep still. you could feel him twitch in your palm, his need growing, his body on the verge of breaking under the intensity of it all.

his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, the flushed color of his cheeks making him look so utterly wrecked, so beautiful like this—falling apart for you, because of you.

your tongue flicked out, barely ghosting over his swollen tip before pressing flat against it, collecting the thick beads of precum that had pooled there. the taste was intoxicating—warm, slightly salty, completely addictive—and you let out a soft hum of satisfaction as you savored it. the moment your tongue made contact, a loud, broken moan ripped from his throat, his hips jerking up involuntarily, as if his body was begging for more before his mind could even catch up.

his thighs trembled beneath your touch, muscles flexing as you dragged your tongue down the underside of his length, tracing along the prominent vein that pulsed with every rapid beat of his heart. slow, deliberate, teasing. you took your time, savoring the way his cock twitched in response to every flick of your tongue, every wet kiss you left against his burning skin. when you reached the base, you pressed your lips there, sucking lightly before dragging your tongue back up, tracing the same path until you reached the tip once more.

without warning, you took him into your mouth, the heat of it enveloping his sensitive tip as your lips wrapped around him. his reaction was immediate—a sharp gasp, followed by a low, shuddering moan as his hands instinctively shot to the desk behind him, fingers curling around the edge like he was trying to keep himself grounded.

your tongue swirled around his tip as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, creating just the right amount of pressure to have him unraveling beneath you. your hands weren’t idle either—one gripped the base of his cock, stroking in tandem with the rhythm of your mouth, while the other pressed against his thigh, feeling the way it tensed under your touch.

"shit, shit, shit—y/n!" he gasped, voice high and desperate, his entire body shaking. "too much… please!"

but even as he begged, his hips twitched forward, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull away or push deeper into your warmth. his body was betraying him, chasing the pleasure even as his mind tried to resist, and you loved every second of it.

his glasses slipped from his face, tumbling onto the floor with a soft clatter, but he couldn’t bring himself to care—not when his entire body was shaking, overwhelmed by the unbearable heat coiling in his stomach, the tight knot threatening to snap at any moment. his breath came out in ragged, uneven pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as he teetered on the very edge, his thighs trembling beneath your touch.

"fuck… fuck…" his voice was wrecked, breaking apart with every syllable, barely able to form the words through the waves of pleasure crashing over him. "y/n, can i cum? please… c-can i—i?" he whined, his voice raw with desperation, his body completely at your mercy. small, glistening tears slipped down his flushed cheeks, his brows knitted together as he looked down at you, his eyes glassy, pleading.

the second you gave him a nod, the smallest signal of permission, his control shattered entirely.

his head tipped back, his lips parting in a loud, unrestrained moan as his body seized, completely undone beneath your touch. your hands moved even faster, stroking him with a relentless pace, and at the same time, you took him deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock twitch violently against your tongue.

"ah—ahh, fuck—!"

his entire body tensed as pleasure crashed through him like a tidal wave, his hands scrambling for anything to hold onto as his release hit him with overwhelming force.

hot, thick ropes of cum filled your mouth in an instant, the sheer amount catching you off guard as you tried to swallow, a few soft coughs escaping you as you struggled to take it all. he was gasping above you, moaning brokenly, completely spent, his body still shaking as aftershocks coursed through him.

his glasses lay forgotten on the floor, his mind hazy, clouded with pleasure. the only thing grounding him now was you—your touch, your warmth, the way you were still there, taking everything he gave you.

after finally catching your breath, you lifted your gaze to meet his, watching the way his dazed, unfocused eyes struggled to stay open. his chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his release. he looked completely wrecked—his hair damp with sweat, sticking messily to his forehead, his lips parted as he tried to steady himself.

but you weren’t done with him yet.

no, you wanted him to remember this for the rest of his life.

your fingers wrapped around his length once more, feeling how sensitive he had become, the way he twitched helplessly in your grasp. the second you moved, stroking him with slow, deliberate motions, a broken whimper tore from his throat. his whole body jolted, thighs quivering as the overstimulation sent sharp jolts of pleasure straight through him.

"w-wait, i—" his voice was barely coherent, breathy and wrecked, his head lolling to the side as he tried to process what was happening. but you didn’t give him a chance to recover, didn’t give him room to protest.

without hesitation, you leaned in and took him into your mouth once more, swallowing him down in one fluid motion until his tip nudged the back of your throat. his reaction was immediate—his body tensed so violently that his hands scrambled for something, anything to hold onto.

"ah—fuck, y/n—!" he cried out, a high, desperate moan ripping through him, his hands gripping at the desk behind him as his body writhed under your touch. he was so sensitive, every nerve in his body on fire, overwhelmed by the unbearable pleasure of being overstimulated.

his thighs tensed beneath your hands, his hips jerking up instinctively despite the way he shook uncontrollably. tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his lips trembling as he tried to form words, tried to beg—but nothing coherent came out, only broken whimpers and desperate gasps.

you could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his body completely at your mercy, and it only made you want to push him further—to drag him past his limits, make him drown in pleasure until he couldn’t think of anything else but you.

and by the way his body continued to tremble, the way his voice cracked as he moaned your name, you knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

and you loved every second of it.

"y/n! i—i can't!" he cried out, voice cracking under the weight of overwhelming pleasure. his words came out breathless, barely coherent between the sharp, desperate gasps that spilled from his lips. his body trembled violently, his back arching slightly as he writhed beneath your touch, every nerve in his body on fire.

but his pleas only fueled you further, only made you more determined to push him past his breaking point, to make him feel nothing but you.

his moans grew louder, more broken, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through the overstimulation. his hands clawed at the surface behind him, fingers curling into helpless fists, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer. his thighs quivered beneath your grip, his entire body fighting against the pleasure that was consuming him whole.

"p-please, too much—" he whined, voice high-pitched, almost desperate, but you could feel how his cock twitched in your mouth, how his body betrayed him despite his pleas.

you weren’t stopping. not when he was falling apart so beautifully for you.

the more he gasped, the more he moaned, the more you wanted to ruin him completely, to make sure he would never forget the way you made him feel tonight. and by the way he trembled, the way he clung to anything that could ground him, you knew he was close—so close to breaking, so close to surrendering entirely to you.

"shit! oh my god—y/n!" he screamed, his voice breaking into a desperate, uncontrollable sob of pleasure as his entire body convulsed beneath you.

his back arched off the chair, his thighs trembling so violently that he nearly lost his footing, hands flying to grip the desk behind him in a feeble attempt to ground himself. but it was useless—he was far too gone, drowning in the unbearable intensity of his release, completely at your mercy as pleasure wracked through him like a powerful, unrelenting wave.

his cock twitched violently in your mouth, and within seconds, he was spilling over once more—hot, thick ropes of cum flooding past your lips, the sheer amount far more than before. some of it trickled down your chin, dripping in sinful streaks as you tried to swallow, but there was just too much.

his moans turned into high, broken cries, the overstimulation sending him spiraling into a place of pure ecstasy, his body shaking so hard that his knees nearly buckled. tears pricked at the corners of his tightly shut eyes, his lips trembling as he gasped for air between moans, his chest rising and falling erratically.

"f-fuck, oh my god," he whimpered, voice raw and strained, his mind completely fogged over with pleasure. his fingers twitched against the desk, his body so spent, so overstimulated, yet still so incredibly sensitive under your touch.

his release dripped from your lips, warm and thick, and you could feel the way he shuddered at the sight, the realization that he had come so hard, so completely wrecked by your hands, your mouth, your touch.

and even as his body trembled, even as he struggled to come down from the high that had just shattered him to pieces, you knew deep down—he still wanted more.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ something new for sure but i just love sub jake so this was a must. hoped you enjoyed!

#enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha #enhypen smut #jake sim #enhypen jake #jake smut #jake x reader #sim jaeyun #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut #enhypen jaeyun #smut #sub jake

630 notes · View notes

melshifting · 3 months ago

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❝LIVING DOLL❞ : A WONYOUNG THEMED PACK ‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧

❝ She’s so flawless it almost feels unfair.❞

(Anon/s request! hope u like it :3)

— BEAUTY AND PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS ⭑.ᐟ

୨ৎ ── Your company knew what they were doing when they chose you: the ultimate visual; you have an incomparable beauty & essence that makes company members high-five you every time they see you.

୨ৎ ── Your facial structure and overall look are worthy of those of a doll: your bright eyes, perfect hair, and reddish cheeks make you look like the ultimate edition of the perfect collection doll.

୨ৎ ── Deer-like beauty: your amber eyes, and soft, brown hair, along with your innocent look and long eyelashes, make you the personification of a cute and gentle deer.

୨ৎ ── Legs for days: your tall and long legs highlight your figure in a delicate but imposing way; they are one of your best attributes.

୨ৎ ── Bubble lips: If your legs don't get the attention, your lips will; they are so full, rounded, and shiny because of your gloss that they resemble a bubble.

— IMPACT AND INFLUENCE ⭑.ᐟ

୨ৎ ── Your impact at such a young age is mind-blowing―being like you has been the unfulfilled dream of many; you are and will always be the influence of thousands. Damn, there's even a lifestyle named after you.

୨ৎ ── Your presence is in everything―artists, photographers, and even videogame programmers worldwide want to include something of yours in their work.

୨ৎ ── Everything you do is worthy of becoming popular: from an accessory you wear to how you walk, everyone wants to follow the trends you've set.

୨ৎ ── Flashes are a habit―you're used to the constant attention of cameras; even if you go out on a casual day, there will be people trying to capture your beauty to remember it as their greatest accomplishment.

— MANNERISMS & VIBES ⭑.ᐟ

୨ৎ ── The epitome of elegance―your gentleness to do anything proves that you and your attitude are as precious but fragile as the most beautiful glassware of all.

୨ৎ ── Aegyo princess!―you know how to give people what they want; acting and posing cutely makes anyone's heart melt, it has become second nature at this point.

୨ৎ ── Pouting is your trademark: pouting your lips in a gentle but careless manner has become your signature; every time you are asked for a photo, fans request you to do it to witness it in person.

— FASHION & STYLE ⭑.ᐟ

୨ৎ ── 'Casually' elegant fashion: your most casual outfit could easily appear on a fashion week runway; even if you try to have a simple, relaxed look, you add a touch of luxury.

୨ৎ ── Subtle details―you like to accessorize your outfits with necklaces, headbands, and small earrings that highlight whatever you wear.

୨ৎ ── 'Coquette' Ambassador: Pleated skirts, bows, lace; something subtle but formal. At this point, I think you were the inspo for the creation of the style.

୨ৎ ── You are the greatest accessory: even if you wear a trash bag, your face, posture, and walk will always make you stand out.

322 notes · View notes

inthedarknessofnight · 7 months ago

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Steve Harrington has OCD. There are days when he can barely hear his own thoughts. Days when he can't focus on anything else but whatever is triggering him. Days when he just wants to crawl out of his own skin.

No one around him gets it. Like, really gets it. He loves having everyone over at his place, loves filling the empty house with joy and laughter he never experienced as a child. But over and over again, he feels like he can't really be present in the moment. Because he gets stuck in a never-ending loop of mental checklists, pinpointing every single item that will need to be cleaned or put back in its place after they leave. Crumbs all over the couch. Henderson touching everything in his general vicinity with greasy, pizza-stained fingers. People walking straight into the house after swimming in the pool. Rug on the bathroom floor always wrinkled and askew. Tiny specs all over the kitchen that only he seems to notice. He knows they're little things. Unimportant, right? A little mess can't hurt you? He knows... He just wishes his brain would get it, too.

And it doesn't just impact him, either. His incessant bitching sets others around him on edge. That's probably the worst part of it all. Nancy used to get so annoyed with him whenever he'd ask her to not sit on his bed in her 'outside clothes'. He's pretty sure Robin hates cooking with him because of all the rules he has in the kitchen, but she usually just sighs and rolls her eyes. Dustin deliberately misunderstands his requests or, better yet, pretends he doesn't hear him at all.

Not Eddie, though. Because Eddie notices. The way Steve seems unfocused at times, like he's somewhere far away. The way his eyes tend to dart around the room. The way his posture changes when someone unknowingly does something that triggers him. He makes little mental notes of all the triggers and makes sure to remember them. So he starts taking off his shoes at the door, placing them on the rack. He cleans up after the kids, quickly wiping the kitchen counter and floor as Steve's busy walking everyone out of the house. He straightens the bathroom rugs. He wipes the floor after taking a shower at Steve's, so that there isn't a single droplet of water to be found anywhere outside the shower cabin. He changes his clothes before lounging around on Steve's bed. It takes Steve some time to notice everything Eddie's been doing to help out with his triggers.

It's a little after midnight, and Steve has finally managed to kick the little dipshits out of the house. He walks back into the kitchen where he is met with the sight of Eddie crouched down, a whisk broom and dustpan in hand. Something clicks then, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait... How long have you been doing this?"

Eddie freezes then and glances up quickly, looking every bit like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh, sorry, it's just- I noticed the stuff on the kitchen floor makes you kinda uncomfortable, so I thought I'd help out a bit," Eddie says softly, like he's scared he's done something wrong. Steve feels something warm spread around in his chest, followed by a familiar burning sensation behind his eyes.

"And the rugs? Was that also you?" Steve's voice is shaking now. But he can no longer prevent it. He's about to have a full-on breakdown in front of Eddie Munson.

Of course, Eddie, the perceptive bastard that he is, has already picked up on what's about to happen. He quickly sets the tools aside and straightens up, taking a few strides towards Steve, ducking his head to catch Steve's downcast gaze. To make sure he's okay.

"Hey, Steve, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I shouldn't have overstepped. I'm so sorry," says Eddie, gently placing his hands on Steve's shoulders to offer a reassuring touch. There are now silent tears rolling down Steve's cheeks, but he brings himself to meet Eddie's gaze nevertheless.

"No, no, Eddie, you didn't. It's just- How did you know?" Steve asks, somewhat hesitantly.

"Because," Eddie moves his hands up to cup Steve's face, looking at Steve like he's trying to see straight into his soul, "because I see you, Steve Harrington."

#steddie #stranger things #eddiemunson #steveharrington #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #steve x eddie #steve harrington has ocd #steddie ficlet #ficlet #eddie munson is a sweetheart #ocd #everyone experiences ocd differently please be kind #this is just how i feel #projecting onto my favorite characters yet again

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting.

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds.

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you.

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man.

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before.

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards.

“Do you… need a haircut?”

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?”

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him.

“Well, are you coming in?”

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.”

“And I'm still here, aren't I?”

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon.

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad.

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair.

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon.

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink.

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water.

“Okay. Is there anything specific?”

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited.

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks.

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair.

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up.

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy.

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin.

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep.

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies.

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard.

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him.

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart.

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door.

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone.

And he hadn't paid.

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway.

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted.

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought.

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time.

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.”

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time.

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-”

“With haircuts?”

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other.

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know.

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller.

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name.

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.”

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.”

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much.

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips.

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner.

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them.

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.”

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?”

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down.

“But what kind of haircut?”

“What kind?”

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book.

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-”

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused.

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?”

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors.

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes.

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated.

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked.

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right.

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air.

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard.

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.”

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended.

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment.

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door.

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off.

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful.

“For your next haircut, Spencer.”

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street.

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair.

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am.

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes.

“Hi.”

“Spencer! You're back.”

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction.

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.”

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him.

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.”

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand.

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies.

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair.

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…”

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him.

“The hospital?”

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.”

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.”

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair.

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.”

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers.

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better.

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing.

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.”

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly.

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave.

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.”

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.”

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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