Tumgik
#I know it's FINE but can the thing please write itself
yumeka-sxf · 2 days
Text
I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.
I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!
We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.
Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.
People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.
To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.
And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~
136 notes · View notes
joelscruff · 7 months
Text
truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠
summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k
Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.
Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.
It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.
"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"
You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.
"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."
"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."
"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."
"But that means experience."
"It could also mean limp dick."
"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."
And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.
"I dare you to go over to his house."
You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."
You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...
They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?
"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"
Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.
It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.
You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.
Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.
You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.
--
He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.
But you don't.
"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.
The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.
His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.
Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.
His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"
It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.
"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.
"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."
He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.
"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."
At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.
"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.
You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.
"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.
He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.
"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.
He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"
Okaaaay, then.
You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.
"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.
"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.
"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.
"You never seen a flashlight before?"
Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."
You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.
"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"
He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.
"What do you want?" he asks blankly.
"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."
"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"
You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.
"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.
He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.
"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.
"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.
"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.
Except, they don't connect.
Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.
"Turn around and bend over."
"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.
"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."
He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.
"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.
"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.
"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.
"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."
You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.
"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.
He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.
"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.
"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.
"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."
He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.
"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.
"N-no, I swear, I-"
"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."
"But I-"
Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.
"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"
Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."
"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.
"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.
It's your last chance.
"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.
Run. Just run.
"Four."
But why?
"Three."
Why don't you want to run?
"Two."
Why do you want to stay?
"One."
He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.
As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.
"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"
"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.
"Say it."
"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."
He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.
"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"
"Y-yes."
"Yes, what?"
You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.
He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.
You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.
"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."
"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."
"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"
Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.
"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.
You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.
"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"
You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.
"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."
"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"
"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.
"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."
He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.
It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.
"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."
You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.
"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.
"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"
You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...
"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."
You nod again, "Y-yes."
"How many?"
"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.
"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"
Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.
"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"
"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.
"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."
"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.
Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.
"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."
You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.
"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.
Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.
"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."
He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.
"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."
He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.
He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.
When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.
"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.
His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.
"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."
It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.
"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."
Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.
"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"
"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"
You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."
"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."
"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."
It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.
"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"
You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"
"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.
He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.
"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."
He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.
"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"
"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.
"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"
"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.
You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.
"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"
You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.
"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."
You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.
"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."
It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.
"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.
For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.
He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.
"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.
You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?
These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.
"Turn around," he orders.
You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.
"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."
--
The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.
You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.
The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.
As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.
And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...
Maybe that's how it should be.
4K notes · View notes
Note
Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)
PLEASE
🥰
(If possible?)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????
lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr
you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???
until his quest - well, failed quest
he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in
chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter
chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.
you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin
and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems
after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you
he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose
he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it
then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand
"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy
luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises
you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush
"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong
you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin
you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy
"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags
"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom
"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his
a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands
he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head
but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin
"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket
but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart
and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin
for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him
not with the defender of REM cycle there
445 notes · View notes
prettiestlovergirl · 1 month
Text
STARVING
tw: MDNI; fem!reader; ditzy, princess, kook! reader; oral (m. receiving); dacryphilia; dom! jj; praise kink; light spit swapping; semi-public; oral fixation! reader.
a/n: as an oral fixation girlie myself... i really made this for me lol. writing ✨heals✨. this is a shorter one n i might delete later, but for now.... enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪
Tumblr media
"you know, ma, i think you're a sugar addict." jj informed you, watching as you unwrapped and popped another jolly rancher into your mouth.
the two of you had been snuggled up on your living room couch together, watching this romantic movie you had practically begged him to watch with you.
you'd given him your best pout and batted your long lashes at him, he was in no position to turn you down. how could he tell you no when you'd asked him so nicely?
besides, as much as the movie uninterested him, it still gave him an excuse to hold and massage your tits under the shirt you'd stolen from him, and that was enough of a selling point in itself.
"nuh uh!" you pouted, shaking your head as you crumpled the wrapper up and tossed it back into the bag of jolly ranchers you had beside you.
"baby, you've got a giant half-empty bag of candy right beside you. you're an addict." he smirked, squeezing your boobs gently to make you shiver while you continued to pout.
"i am not! i just like to have things in my mouth." you explained, shaking your head and trying to turn back to the movie. jj's smirk only grew, you had no idea the door you'd just opened for yourself.
"oh yeah? that so?" he smirked, his hands slipping out from under your shirt and gliding down to your waist. "i can definitely give you something to put in your mouth."
"jayj, wait, i wanna watch the movie!" you whined, strawberry jolly rancher swirling around your mouth as he fixed you on his lap, your head still turned to try and focus on the tv.
he started pressing kisses to your neck, suddenly far more interested in you than he ever would have been in that movie. "c'mon, ma. just wanna help, give you something extra good to put in your mouth." he grinned.
you continued to pout, but it was really no use trying to fight it. jj was persistent and you were his little, eager to please princess. you'd do just about anything for him n sucking his cock during a movie? not the craziest thing he'd asked you to do.
"mmm, fine." you nodded, sighing with contentment when his lips pressed against an extra sweet spot along your neck. "but you owe me!" you reminded, turning your head and tapping your lip gloss covered lips for a kiss.
he chuckled but happily obliged you, groaning at your strawberry flavored saliva filling his senses. you made out like this for a while and when you eventually pulled away, you realized his skilled tongue had stolen your jolly rancher.
"hey!" you frowned, looking back at him as he started helping you get down onto your knees. he swirled the jolly rancher around his mouth, chuckling at your new little pout.
"so dramatic today, mamas. really gotta work on this attitude of yours." he tutted, shaking his head. "no! no, 'm sorry, i'll stop pouting." you stated quickly, your thighs still tender from the last time he worked on fixing your attitude.
"that's what i thought." he grinned, rubbing his thumb along your lower lip to smudge your lip gloss around your chin as you finally sat up.
you pulled his shorts n boxers down his legs, nuzzling yourself in between them as your hand wrapped around his already angry n swollen cock.
you held him at the base, lifting it up and kitten licked up the entire underside of his cock. jj groaned, his hands reaching down and bringing your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, so it'd stay out of your way.
you let your nails scrape over one of the larger veins as you licked over his leaking tip, the salty precum a delicious contrast to the sweetness of the jolly rancher flavoring that had lingered on your tongue.
you went on teasing for a while, but once his grip started to tighten around your hair, you finally relented. you slowly took more of him into your mouth, going until you started to gag.
you sucked and swirled your tongue around what fit into your mouth, your other hand rubbing and massaging everything that couldn't fit inside.
"mm, c'mon mamas, i know you can take more than that." he grunted, his eyes happily fixed on the view of your glossy lips wrapped around his cock.
you huffed dramatically, pretty eyes rolling, but you did just what he asked. you placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself before forcing yourself to take more of him in.
you loudly gagged around his length, but you didn't stop. your eyes watered immensely, blurring your vision, but you didn't care. jj's groans and praises spurred you on.
he really just couldn't take his eyes off of you, you just looked so fucking perfect like this. as much as he loved burying his face between your thighs, nothing beat the view of your water eyes and drooled soaked mouth gagging on his cock.
"that's it, that's my perfect girl. fuck, yes." he moaned, closing his eyes and relishing in the loud, wet noises that blocked out the tv in the background.
you gagged and slurped up and down his cock, coating it entirely in your strawberry flavored saliva. his cock started to twitch in your mouth, signaling he was close, so you brought your hand up and started gently massaging his balls.
"fuck, ma, 'm gonna cum, where do you want it?" he grunted, biting his lip as his hand held your hair even tighter. you used your free hand to tap your lower lip.
he forced your head to stay down as he bucked his hips up against your mouth, fucking your face momentarily before he finally came down your throat, painting the inside of your mouth white.
you finally pulled off, panting and gasping for air, your tongue hanging out. as you pulled off, you left a glossy sheen all over his cock, making you giggle softly.
"can we restart the movie now?"
ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ
451 notes · View notes
changbunnies · 3 months
Text
Scent Of You, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin
♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, vague allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, dubcon
♡ Word Count: 7.8k (oops)
♡ Summary: In which a sweet, naive bunny hybrid nicknamed 'little red' becomes lost in the forest at night, and finds herself face to face with the big, bad wolves her grandmother always warned her about.
♡ Warnings: uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration before it devolves into smut, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There lol
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): dubcon (but the smut itself isn't very rough), pet names (though mostly as a title- such as bunny, little red, and sweetheart), the word slut is used a few times, gendered language such as "dirty girl", a lot of kissing, size difference, size kink (i'm sorry if you're tall just pretend ur small and they're huge because ur a rabbit and they're a wolf fsdgsdf), oral (m + f rec), some manhandling, some banter and mild rivalry between bin and chan, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms and multiple creampies
♡ Notes: so i intended to take a small break from writing after finishing crave but inspo struck me as i was trying to fall asleep and i NEEDED to write it so i literally shot up and wrote all of this in one sitting in a cold sweat fsdgdsf so here we are, one last surprise upload before my break <3 it's easily the most self indulgent fic i've written to date dfdgh bunny is my fave petname and this is basically just my excuse to be called bunny in a wolf binchan sandwich lmao this is not as proofread as my other stuff given how quickly i wrote it, and it's my first time writing a threesome, but i hope you enjoy! edit: there is now a sequel you can read here !
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
Tumblr media
"Please, take care sweetheart. Don't stay out too long," your grandmother warns with a tender kiss to your forehead as you prepare to head out for the day, pulling the hood of your long, red cape up over your head, tucking in your hair and covering your lopped ears. "I know, grandmother, I know! I'll be back before you know it, I promise," you assure her with a smile, hooking your twine basket into your arm, empty and ready to be filled with treats of the forest.
Your grandmother heaves a soft sigh, as she falls back against the bed, and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze and a soft goodbye before you make your way out of your quaint cottage, a long line of intimidating, tall standing trees before you. Grandmother always worries for your safety, as the woods aren't entirely safe for a rabbit like yourself, but so long as the sun hangs bright in the sky, you'd be perfectly fine.
As grandmother has warned you countless times, it's only at night that the woods near your home become truly dangerous, as all manner of nocturnal predators leave their dens in search of their next meal. For a rabbit such as yourself, lingering in the woods at night is assuredly a death sentence; your diminutive stature and weak limbs would cause you to easily fall victim to the beasts that stalk through the forest with the moon's aid. 
The only thing on your side would be your speed, but even then it's no guarantee of safety once a predator has you in their sights; and so your grandmother always instilled a proper fear of the dark within you, in the hope that you'd never find yourself in a situation in which you'd have to flee in the first place. Entering the forest brings with it countless anxieties for your species, but it's not like you can simply not go- the gifts of nature are what sustains you, and you have to enter the woods, even live near them, if you want to have food in your tummy and herbal medicines on your shelves. 
As such, you are always very conscious of the amount of time you spend in the forest, only ever entering when the sun is brightly illuminating your surroundings, always careful and alert as you gather what you need. You observe the sun's position in the sky, use it to determine how much time you have left before it begins to set, always heading back well before it starts to sink behind the trees. And you'd never stay longer than necessary, especially not when you have grandmother waiting at home praying for your safe return!
But well.. grandmother is quite ill these days, and you spent more time than you usually would gathering the berries and leaves you’ll need to make her sweet, healing brews of tea. Soon enough, winter's chill would cause all the greenery to frost and wither, and you wanted to stock up now to ensure you had enough to last 'til the end of the season. It was for grandmother's health! Surely she'd understand and forgive you if you stayed out just a little longer than usual. 
But as dusk started to settle over the trees, and you realized how precious few moments of sunlight you had left to make it home with, panic began to accumulate in the pit of your stomach. You tried your best to take deep breaths, to not allow your heart to race- as long as you remained calm, you could get back before dark, you were sure of it. 
The more the sun sank however, the more you lost your clarity; you found yourself stumbling in circles, the encroaching dark causing the forest to become unrecognizable, leading you blindly in circles. You'd long since lost sight of the path you always followed home, and the moon and stars, which were normally such a beautiful sight, now came with a sense of foreboding. It was dark, you were lost, and grandmother was now all alone, probably worrying herself half to death wondering where you could be and if you're even still alive. 
You continue blindly weaving your way through the trees, just praying that you're moving in the direction of home; you can't afford to hide away and wait until morning, not when a beast could be around any corner. Using your speed to your advantage, you dart past a near endless sea of trees, praying, praying, and praying the clearing will come into view and you’ll see your cottage in the middle, with orange light from the fire peeking through the windows and smoke billowing from the chimney. 
Suddenly you stop, entire body freezing as your hair stands on end, nose twitching as an unfamiliar scent fills your nostrils; someone is near- someone that you should avoid at all costs. It’s so heavy, overwhelming beyond comprehension- the scent of the forest itself is still identifiable, but mixed now with something akin to leather, black coffee, and hot iron. The scent is actually quite pleasant, so that's not what causes you to freeze; it’s the unfamiliarity that is the true root of the problem, evoking a deep rooted, innate fear response. 
You know all the “safe” smells- that of other prey animals such as yourself, for instance, are recognizable, comforting, and bring about a sense of calm. To be met with the unfamiliar is to be met with danger; it means that whatever is near is something you’ve never encountered during your safe treks through the forest, it means that a predator likely has you in their sights, because as grandmother has told you, if you smell them it’s already too late- they’ve found you. 
“Now, now, what do we have here?” A deep voice calls, hidden from your sight. Your heart erupts in an erratic rhythm, a chill running down your spine as your eyes desperately search the darkness for the source of the voice. And there, you finally see it- or rather, him. A man, standing much, much taller and bulkier than you, sharp fangs exposed with his smile, fangs that you are sure will be used to rip you apart. 
You see pointed ears and dusky blue-silver fur, a long tail that swishes with intrigue and delight, a fur coat with the arms cut off, an exposed chest laden with scars both fresh and faded. He’s a wolf, you realize with dread, the thing you were taught to fear most of all. You unconsciously take a step back as he approaches, the moonlight illuminating him in a way that evokes both fear and reverence; as beautiful as he is dangerous. “What’s a little thing like you doing in the forest at night, hmm? Don’t you know it isn’t safe, little red?” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile, referencing the caped hood you’re wearing, a gift from your grandmother meant to keep you safe from men like him.  
You clutch your basket tighter as your legs begin to tremble, lowering your head and pulling your hood down further, trying your best to ensure your ears and other features are completely covered. He probably knows by smell alone you’re a prey animal, but you vainly hope he’ll let you go if he doesn’t realize you’re a rabbit- a stupid hope, but it’s the only one you have. “Poor thing, don’t be scared. You got lost, didn’t you, little red?” With each step towards you he takes, you take another step back, until your back meets that of a thick tree, the erratic rhythm of your heart building to a speed you thought otherwise impossible. 
“Tell me- where did you come from?” The wolf asks with an intimidating smile full of fang, “I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it I’ve smelled you before..?” With nowhere to go, caged against the tree as the wolf closes in, all you can do is tremble as you watch him sniff the air, licking his lips as if tasting your scent. Most prey animals are generally the same, but there’s only one place he’s gotten the scent of sugar and cream from.. 
“Ah, I know,” he says suddenly, smile growing wider as he speaks, “That little cottage in the clearing- that’s it, isn’t it? That’s your home?” You swallow as you timidly nod, your nerves much too frayed to attempt to lie- you’ve never been a good liar anyways, your grandmother having raised you to be honest and good. “You’re quite far from home, little red. But I can help you,” he offers, but you know better than to trust a wolf- they’re liars, all of them. 
“N-No, I.. I can get there by myself,” you say, finally finding your voice (shaky and timid though it may be.) The man hums, seemingly amused by your brave display; he knows how scared you are, can quite literally taste it, but he has to commend you for trying, at least. “I’m not sure that’s true. Do you know which way home is?” 
“W-Well, uhm, I.. I- I, I don’t-” you stutter and fumble, and he chuckles, a smug look of “thought-so” clear on his face as he grins at you. His hand finds your cheek, and you look up at him with glassy, teary eyes, heart thumping out of control as he strokes your skin with his thumb. He smiles sweetly, almost boyishly- a look that would be endearing if he wasn’t a wolf, and you weren’t afraid for your life. 
His clawed hand travels from your cheek to the top of your hood, and you quickly reach your hands up to clutch the fabric, keeping it fully tugged down in a vain attempt to continue to hide your identity. The wolf laughs, clearly amused at your reaction. “Come now, little red, show me what sort of ears you’re hiding under there,” he coos and you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut and knuckles turning white as you desperately cling to your hood. 
At this point it probably no longer matters what you are exactly- no matter the answer, it’s clear the wolf before your eyes has plans for you that won’t go unfulfilled. But still, your survival instincts are in overdrive, and you can’t help but try your best to protect yourself, even if the endeavor proves to be worthless. He tugs at your hood, not yet trying to fully pull it off, but rather playing with you- he could easily pull it off in one quick swipe, his claws could tear the fabric to ribbons, but he chooses to instead have his fun, watch you panic and struggle with the hood in your tiny hands. 
You look at him, unfallen tears blurring your vision; you don’t know what else to do. Grandmother always said if you found yourself cornered by wolves, your only option would be to run and pray for the best, but is that really the best you can do? And while you’re fast, wolves are faster- you’re sure the man would be able to catch up with you easily, especially given that the moon is his ally and he is likely extremely familiar with the deep woods.
Further still, he clearly stated he knows your home; even if you escape, he knows exactly where to go to find you. It fills you with dread, knowing that even if you do make it home, your grandmother would be there too; and you’d never forgive yourself if something bad happened to her because of you. It’s an impossible choice you are being dealt- surrender to your fate now, or try your best to flee and risk dragging your precious grandmother down with you. 
But as he finally tugs down your hood, your white, snow-like lopped ears are fully exposed, and the wolf’s fangs shine as he gleefully smiles, you find yourself unconsciously making a choice- you run, as fast as your legs will carry you. The cape gets caught and snags on stray branches from the myriad trees, tearing as you continue to run, adrenaline coursing through your veins, chest aching from the erratic, forcefully thumping of your heart, breath coming out quick and harsh. 
You barely make it 10 feet ahead through the trees before you’re crashing into something, the sudden impact causing you to let out an involuntary shout as you stumble back and fall ungracefully on your backside. Looking up, tears fall from your eyes when you realize it’s another wolf- shorter than the one who’d cornered you previously, but bulkier, with fur as dark as obsidian and a scent that matches it. You suspect that he was there the entire time, and you just didn’t notice due to the panicked focus you held on getting away from the blue-silver wolf. 
“Where do you think you're going, little red?” the new wolf speaks, affirming your fears; he was there for the entire exchange, witness to the moniker you’d been given and now using it for himself. “Oh Changbin, you caught her,” you hear the previous wolf say from somewhere behind you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath his feet as he approaches your spot on the ground. “Course,” the dark wolf evidently named Changbin speaks, kneeling down to look directly in your teary eyes, “I’d never let such a sweet little thing get away from us.” 
He reaches to the side of your body, where your twine basket has fallen from your arms and spilled its contents, all the berries and leaves you gathered now decorating the dirt. “Hmm, most of these are herbal. What a sweet granddaughter you are, gathering until late into the night! Your grandmother must be proud of you, hmm?” Changbin smiles, looking up to the previous wolf once he stands again, your basket in his hands, “Don’t you think so, Chan-hyung?” 
The blue-silver wolf, that the dark wolf calls Chan, hums in agreement, once again calling you a “sweet thing.” Chan offers you a hand to help you stand, and you hesitate, swallowing as your eyes dart nervously between them. Their eyes on you make you nervous beyond just the predator-prey relationship you share; they’re both so impossibly ethereal in the light of the moon, and it makes you wonder if all wolves are such divine creatures. 
Maybe that’s why the rest of the forest view them reverently; beautiful, powerful, utterly intimidating in all aspects- they offer no choice from a rabbit such as yourself but submission simply from presence alone. “What’s your name, little red?” is Chan’s next question, and again, you find yourself unable to lie; against your own sense of self-preservation, you tell him your name. And he hums, repeating your name as if testing the way it falls from his tongue before diverting back to his nickname for you. 
“Let’s make a deal, little red,” the wolf says, still holding out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You finally do so cautiously, letting Chan help you to your feet, your legs still trembling but not yet buckling in the face of fear. “W-What kind of deal?” you ask hesitantly, looking between the two wolves who smile and lick their lips, tongues ghosting over their fangs as they do. Beautiful, powerful, intimidating, your mind repeats.
“We want to play with you,” Chan says smoothly, the answer coming natural to him, “play with us for a little while, and then we’ll take you home. We promise.” You look at the other, younger wolf who nods, backing the sentiment of his superior. Here you are, confronted in the deepest reaches of the forest by two wolves, and instead of devouring you they just want to “play”..? What does playing entail with them? 
You’re not sure how much you truly want to know, but the promise of home dangling in front of you makes you consider their offer despite how foolish it may be. “You’re not.. tricking me, are you?” you ask, voice small, full of naivety and hope. “Of course not, sweetheart, we would never,” Changbin affirms, even going so far as to pick up the spilled contents of your basket and nestle them carefully back inside- a promise that by the time you’re done “playing”, you’ll be reunited with your sickly grandmother and able to care for her again.
“You just smell so sweet,” Chan says, his clawed fingers once again tracing over your cheek, “and we’ve always wanted to play with a sweet little bunny like you.” You nervously exhale the breath you unconsciously held when his hand traced your skin, searching his eyes for any sort of deceit. If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely confident in your ability to tell if the wolves are lying to you- they’re masters of manipulation, after all; lying is second nature to them. 
Still, you want to trust them- trust that after you play with them for a little while, they’ll keep their promise of taking you home with your basket in your arms and everything you need to get through the winter. “If you really promise, then.. I’ll play with you,” you answer, and the wolves both smile eagerly, with the elder wolf taking you in his arms, swiftly lifting you up off your feet. You squeak in surprise, instinctively clutching tightly to his fur coat, scared of being dropped. 
“Let’s go have some fun then,” Chan grins at you, making sure his hold on you is secure before he starts to move, “but not here. The floor here’s too dirty for you, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question in which he expects no answer; instead he starts winding through the trees quickly, a destination clearly in mind. You vaguely see the other wolf trailing behind before you squeeze your eyes shut, the blur of trees and wind whipping through your hair and past your ears making you dizzy as you’re carried further and further into the forest, likely towards its center. 
It takes you a few moments to open your eyes once you’ve realized you’re no longer moving at high speeds; Chan, who still has you in his arms, is now walking at a leisurely place through what you assume is his den. The smell of other wolves is distinct but distant- evidently, the three of you are the only ones home for the night. It makes you breathe a small sigh of relief to know the rest of his pack is absent, attending to their own matters. It makes you feel safer, somehow; as if you’re not literally inside a wolf's den, at the mercy of whatever it is the two before you want with you. 
Eventually you are carried into a bedroom- one that smells more of Chan than the other wolf, which leads you to believe this is his room specifically. Changbin doesn’t seem to mind that the “playing” will take place here, a smile still clear on his face as he shuts the door behind himself, locking the door behind him as Chan sets you on his rather large bed. 
Your ears lie flat against your head, your nerves eating away at you as you fiddle with your hands. You watch them both carefully, taking note of where Changbin sets down your basket before he meets you and Chan at the bed. The two of them standing over you makes you feel impossibly small, affirms how much better they are than you in every evolutionary aspect; speed, strength, size- they have it all. And you, one measly little rabbit with no significant qualities in comparison to them, who has no choice but to put her life in their hands if she wants to survive. How unfair. 
“Tell me, little red,” Chan starts as he sits next to you on his bed, one large hand enough to cup your entire face and direct your complete attention towards him, “are bunnies as slutty as they say?” Your eyes widen as you gulp in shock, having not expected such a forward, explicit question. “Yeah, I’m curious,” Changbin follows up, sitting firmly on your other side, caging you in between the both of them, “they don’t say ‘fucking like rabbits’ for no reason, right? So what are you? A slut?” 
“I-I’m not!” you sputter out; it’s true that rabbits have a reputation for promiscuity but you live a rather sheltered life with your grandmother- you hardly even know other rabbits your age, much less male rabbits. That being said, you have been a little.. let's say intense during your heats- but you rode those out with toys, not with the help of men. And you don’t think there’s any shame in promiscuity, but that’s simply not the life you lead; you live modestly, simply taking care of your grandmother to the best of your ability. You barely even have time to masturbate these days- fucking is entirely out of the realm of possibility, as busy as you are. 
“But you’ve taken cock before?” Changbin asks from behind you rather shamelessly, and Chan looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer with a cocked brow. “W-Well, yes, but-” you start and Chan is smiling again, another happy hum leaving his lips. ..Does your virginity status really matter here..? Your eyes widen again when the reality of what you’ve agreed to clicks, and Chan chuckles at your delayed reaction. “You’re not very smart, are you, bunny? But that’s okay- you don’t need to be smart to have fun, isn’t that right?”
Changbin is the next to speak, his hot breath coming out against your ear, his hands tracing your hips, “Mhm, sweet, dumb bunnies are cute, don’t you think? I bet they have lots of fun,” It’s vaguely condescending, how they speak of you- sweet and dumb, as if your intelligence pales next to theirs, as if you are an object designed for their pleasure and no other. And somehow, it adds to the tremble in your legs, your breath hitching when Chan squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb, forcing your mouth to open. 
You overtly whine, the wolf’s obscenely long tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring with another eager hum, his fangs catching on your lip with each kiss. As he kisses you, his fingers tug at the knot of your caped hood, leaving the task of discarding it to the other wolf once the knot is undone. Goosebumps once again rise on your skin, with Changbin kissing and licking your neck after your cape has been tossed aside, deeply inhaling your scent as Chan continues to abuse your lips with his tongue and teeth. 
“Chan-hyung wasn’t kidding when he said you smell so sweet,” he whispers against your skin as he continues to trail his kisses down towards your shoulder, “it’s intoxicating.” It’s shameless and almost embarrassing, the way arousal pools in your underwear despite all preconceived notions of how a rabbit should behave in the face of a predatory animal; but the more they kiss and lick, the more fear ebbs away, and becomes replaced by pleasure and yearning. It’s been so long since you last felt the touch of someone else, having been stricken to solitary heats since becoming your grandmother’s carer. It almost humiliates you to admit how good their touch feels on your burning skin. 
They can quite literally feel your body release its tension, Changbin’s strong arms being the ones to hold you up as you melt, and the smell of your leaking arousal obviously doesn’t go undetected by either of their noses. Chan pulls away from your lips, a smirk visible on his features when you open your eyes to look at him. “What a dirty girl you are, excited already,” he says, another whine escaping you not only from his words, but from the feeling of Changbin’s teeth grazing your neck.
Chan, who could quite easily rip your dress from your body, instead opts to tug the fabric away much more carefully than you’d have anticipated- perhaps they really mean to return you home after this? Changbin, whose torso was substantially more covered than his elder’s, removes his top, leaving you to feel his bare, muscular chest against your now exposed back. He wastes no time in latching back to your neck, licking, sucking, teeth grazing the skin, but not biting down- whether to spare you the shame of returning home with the clear mark of a predator, or because he doesn’t have permission from lead of the pack however, is unclear.
Your breasts, which you’ve always considered quite full, despite your diminutive frame, easily fit within Chan’s large palms. Their ability to not only make you feel, but look small leaves you dizzy. You should be afraid of how they eclipse your frame with their size, but instead you find it exciting, your brain unraveling everything you’ve been taught about self-preservation in favor of experiencing utmost pleasure from two hulking wolves. 
Shame, it seems, has entirely left you, as slick leaks from you easily, drenching your underwear with each touch from their rough hands. Chan’s fingers play with your sensitive nipples, pulling and tugging until you’re writhing against Changbin’s body, who has his own hands tracing your hips and thighs, pressing lingering kisses to any patch of skin he can reach. Chan lowers himself to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as his hand continues to play with the other. 
Meanwhile, Changbin’s hand slinks around, brushing over your stomach before his hand dips between your legs, rubbing your heat over your soaked underwear. “Fuck, this messy for us already? You have to feel her, hyung, touch her pussy,” Changbin speaking such filthy words right next to your ear makes you shudder, a whimper leaving from deep in your throat when Chan obliges, his hand quick to replace the younger wolf’s. Instead of touching you over your clothes however, he opts to completely tear them from your body, in stark contrast to how he treated your dress- you suppose the underwear is less important to remain intact, or maybe he just can’t help it after having gotten this far? 
“Oh, look at that Binnie, you’re right,” Chan grins as his fingers rub along your folds, spreading the slick around to create even more of a mess between your legs, “You’re such a dirty bunny underneath, hmm?” Your face burns red, another whine escaping as shame finally returns to you, your hands reaching to cover your face. The pair of them coo, finding the display cute, whilst simultaneously making their cocks throb- what a treat, to have found a bunny that is both incredibly sweet and effortlessly sexy all at once. 
Chan pushes Changbin’s hands away from your body, and quickly turns you around. Your back is now against Chan, and he hooks your legs over his knees, spreading you open for the younger wolf to see. “Let’s give Binnie a look at your dripping pussy, don’t you think he deserves it after being so sweet to you?” More slick dribbles its way out of you, soaking the mattress beneath, a treat for Changbin’s eager eyes. 
Peeking between your fingers, you see his dark tail swishing behind him in delight, very clearly excited by the sight he’s met with. “Can I taste her, hyung? I want to so bad,” he asks, licking his lips, his eager, sparkling eyes not leaving you for even a second. “Mm, what do you think, little red? Should we let him have a taste?” Chan asks, and though you can’t see him anymore, you can practically hear the smile in his voice- playful and fun. 
You nod quickly, though Chan doesn’t seem content with that response- he tsks, once again grabbing your face and twisting your neck to look at him. “You gotta use your words, sweetheart, you understand?” You start to nod again, but then quickly follow up with a small “yes”, to which the wolf smiles, and diverts your gaze back to Changbin, forcing you to hold the darker wolf’s gaze. “Good bunny, go ahead and tell him, then. Tell him you want him to eat you.” 
He can feel your face burn beneath his fingers, and though you can’t see it you’re sure there’s a smug smile gracing his perfect face as he waits for you to properly address Changbin. “I-I.. I want you to eat me, please,” you force yourself to mumble out, not missing the way Changbin’s cock throbs in his torn shorts. With one last lick of his lips, he’s diving between your thighs, looking up at you with a grin, “I’ll devour you, sweetheart.” 
You gasp when his tongue licks between your folds, a loud moan unintentionally falling from your lips as he eagerly laps away at you. You can’t help but squirm in Chan’s hold, his legs continuing to hold yours open and preventing them from closing around Changbin’s head. Changbin moans as he licks and sucks on your clit, as if the act is more pleasurable for him than you; and eventually he alternates between giving his undivided attention to your clit, to sliding his tongue as deep into your hole as it’ll go, letting his nose bump your clit instead. 
Chan’s erection digs into your back, sometimes groaning when your squirming and twitching causes friction; but he’s not content to just sit behind you and watch- he wants to add to the fun. So his hands come up to the soft base of your ears, expecting it to be as erogenous of a zone for you as it is for them- and by your reaction, he can tell it is. Your head falls back against him, and he can just catch a glimpse of your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, mouth hanging open as more moans and desperate whimpers leave you. 
“You getting close, sweet bunny? You wanna cum?” Chan asks, grinning when you once again quickly nod your head, a near endless stream of whimpery moans leaving you as your high approaches. “Answer properly,” he reminds you, though his tone isn’t as strict as before- it’s almost playful, amused; he’s having fun. “W-Wanna cum, please, please let- hah- please let me cum,” you beg between harsh breaths, your entire body feeling like a wire on the verge of snapping.
“You heard her Bin, make her cum,” you hear Chan say as he becomes harsher with your ears, his calloused fingers now rubbing in rough circles. Your entire body jolts and convulses as the wire finally snaps, cry after cry of white pleasure spilling from your lips as you release on Changbin’s waiting tongue. He hums as he licks up all you offer him, not separating himself from his spot between your legs until he’s sure he’s got it all and you’re shuddering from the overstimulation. 
Changbin takes your face in his hands, pulling you just slightly away from Chan as he drags you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. Your taste is all over his tongue, his mouth stealing away all the breath you’ve just barely managed to breathe into your lungs after the intensity of your orgasm. Your eyes are hazy when he pulls away, fogged over by lust and needs for the wolves you are sandwiched between. 
You just barely register Changbin looking past you to Chan, as if asking what to do next; though the exchange is silent, it seems like Changbin knows exactly where to go from here after receiving a certain look- have they done this before, you wonder? Changbin scoots back just a bit before grabbing your legs, unhooking them from Chan’s knees before he’s pulling you down, closer to him. You gasp, your head falling straight onto Chan’s lap- well, more accurately, to one of his thighs, before he’s closing his legs to act as a pillow for you. 
His cock, though still obscured by the fabric of his shorts, is right next to your face and impressive in its size, just as Changbin’s is. The two of them, in almost practiced unison, pull down their shorts, though the task is harder for Chan, who has your head resting on his lap. He still manages well enough, and you’re met with the sight of his hard, leaking cock right in front of your eyes, almost close enough to touch your cheek. 
You look up at Chan, who looks down to meet your gaze with a grin. “Hope you’re ready, bunny,” is all the warning you get before you’re flipped around to your front, another squeak of surprise as you’re manhandled to your knees, bent to where Changbin wants you, with your face still squarely in Chan’s lap. One of Chan’s hands holds his cock at the base while the other reaches under your chin, lifting your face up to look directly at him. “Show me what you can do while you’re taking cock,” he instructs, your body trembling as you feel Changbin’s cock rub between your folds, slicking himself up. 
You whine when his cock presses against your hole, Changbin’s hands holding your hips up while Chan’s guide you to take his leaking cock into your mouth. You never imagined you’d be in a scenario where you’re taking in the cocks of two wolves at once, but you welcome the challenge. Changbin enters you first, the stretch the most intense you’ve ever taken- you can’t help but gasp, the sting pricking up every inch of your body. Chan, thankfully, doesn’t force you to take him entirely into your mouth in this state- he lets you instead kiss and lick the tip, recognizing your need to adjust to a size you’re entirely unused to taking. 
They both praise you, though Changbin’s voice is significantly more strained and breathy as he continues his slow push inside your tight heat. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs for support, and he doesn’t scold you for taking pauses in giving him attention, instead just watching as you squeeze your eyes shut and do your best to control your heavy breathing. “Big stretch, isn’t it bun?” Chan ends up asking, which causes you to nod with teary eyes. “‘s so big,” you exhale, and Changbin whines from behind you- you wonder if he likes hearing how big he is?
You can also hear the loud swishing of his tail, almost like a whip with how quick it snaps from side to side; it’s an undeniable truth that Changbin has been very, very excited to play with you the entire night. Changbin hisses once he’s fully aside, while Chan takes this time to rub your back in a soothing gesture you wouldn’t typically expect from a wolf. You look up at him, eyes full of equal parts gratitude and lust, and he simply smiles, hunching his back down to meet your lips in a kiss. 
“Not fair, I wanna kiss her too-” Changbin protests from behind you and Chan scoffs when he pulls away from your lips. “Your dick is literally inside her Bin, shut the fuck up,” he says and to your surprise, you giggle- Changbin is kind of cute, isn’t he? At least, in a weird, wolf sort of way. “Are you laughing at me?” he asks, and you can almost hear the playful sort of pout in his voice. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean to,” you mumble, hoping you didn’t offend him. 
You take a cautious peek at him from over your shoulder, relieved to find that he’s actually smiling once he stops his dramatic pouting. Cute, you think again, but he doesn’t let you feel that way for long. He pulls out to the tip and presses back inside in one, swift motion, causing a moan to erupt from you as your nails once again dig into Chan’s skin. “Won’t be laughing by the time I’m done with you, bunny,” Changbin says as he repeats the motion, and it takes everything in you to not utterly collapse onto Chan’s lap. 
He hits your spot every time, and you swear you can feel it all the way in your stomach- but Chan doesn’t let you stay idle in your pleasure for very long. “C’mon, sweet bunny, you know what to do,” he says, his hand under your chin directing you back to his own neglected length. Unable to control yourself much after Changbin starts picking up his pace, you simply open your mouth and stick out your tongue, allowing Chan to enter your mouth however much he wishes to, completely handing your control to him. 
Changbin’s thrusts cause you to take more of Chan into your mouth than you’d initially take all at once, and it causes Chan to curse, his cock hitting the back of your throat within seconds of entering your mouth. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to well with tears, and then for those tears to cascade down your cheeks, trying your best not to choke and gag as Changbin, voluntarily or otherwise, forces you to take more and more of Chan’s cock down your throat. 
You can hardly even breathe between the pleasure of Changbin drilling you from behind and Chan’s cock obstructing your primary airway, but it makes you dizzy in the best way possible. You feel floaty, every cell in your body knowing nothing but intense pleasure. Chan strokes your head, sometimes petting your ears for that extra burst of pleasure that makes you clench tighter and causes Changbin to curse from behind you each and every time. 
Changbin, who is observing the way his cock looks sliding in and out of your tiny hole, gets a flash of inspiration when he looks at your cute, fluffy cottontail. Experimentally, he takes it into his hands, rubbing your tail between his fingers, and you keen, a shiver traveling throughout your entire body. “Oh, you like that?” he asks, a bit smug as he continues to rub and gently tug at your tail, a loud whine escaping you that is muffled only by the cock lodged in your mouth. 
Chan can see your eyes rolling back, and decides to double the pleasure, not letting his hands leave your ears for even a second. Your noises tumble freely now, quick and constant, rising in volume despite how muffled they are. It’s overwhelming being played with like this, but it feels so fucking good you’d never think to complain- you may become addicted to this sensation when it’s all said and done.
You’re so wet and warm, and now squeezing impossibly tight- Changbin isn’t going to last, and you can feel him throbbing and twitching as his pace begins to stutter. “Shit- fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, letting go of your hip with his other hand to reach under you and find your clit with his fingers. “Cum with me, pretty bunny, c’mon, I know you’re close too,” he says, quickly rubbing your clit between two of his fingers. 
Chan guides your head off of him, letting you suck in the breath you desperately need before he’s lifting you up just enough to meet his lips, capturing your moans with his mouth. You cum again with a succession of loud whimpers, your hands squeezing at Chan’s body desperately. “Oh my god, yes, ‘m cumming, c-cumming-” Changbin gasps, his cum shooting inside you in quick spurts, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he groans. 
Chan lets you fall back to his lap, breathless and almost entirely spent, with Changbin breathing heavily behind you. He pulls out when he finally starts to soften, and you glance behind you the best you can to see him pouting at his elder again. “You did that to make me jealous!” he accuses Chan in reference to kissing you, and the other wolf simply shrugs with a smirk. “I can kiss you too, Binnie,” you mumble, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. 
He whines again, and you realize it’s the first time you’re actually using one of their names. “You should’ve said my name while cumming, bunny,” he grunts as he scoops you up, pulling you back to his chest. “I don’t think she could’ve-” Chan starts to interject, laughing when Changbin glares at him, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss. 
They’re not actually fighting over you, but you find the dynamic fun- maybe that’s why they like to share; and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this desired before. Changbin’s tail is swishing again as he kisses you, and you giggle when you hear it- he’s like a puppy, you think; eager, and easily excitable, with a hint of jealousy that makes him fun to tease. When he pulls away, he looks at Chan and then back at you, “Can you handle one more, sweetheart? Channie-hyung still needs a turn with you.” 
“I can take it, I’m a good bunny,” you affirm and they both grin, Chan reaching out to you and pulling you away from Changbin’s arms, into his own. “Such a good girl,” he hums as he lays you down on the mattress, taking his place between your legs while Changbin lays down next to you, rubbing his hand over your soft tummy. Changbin’s cum is leaking steadily out of you, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind the mess it’s making on his mattress- you've made your own mess of his bed too, after all. 
Chan instead uses his fingers to gather up what has leaked and spread it over his own length, using it as lubrication for his own push inside of you. Changbin presses kisses to your heated cheeks, licking away the tears that fall as Chan starts to push his cock inside you. Chan, who has been entirely composed up to this point, finally breaks just a bit- enough for his breath to start coming out harsher as you feel him twitch and throb inside you. 
His tail doesn’t swish as fast and erratically as Changbin’s but it is nonetheless moving happily side to side, a clear indicator that you’re actually affecting him and he’s not all confidence and smug charisma. “Can I play with you while Channie-hyung fucks you, bunny?” Changbin asks, his hand creeping up to your chest, smiling when you quickly nod at him. 
Chan should scold you for not answering properly, but he’s focusing on his own pleasure now- taking your legs into his hands and holding them open while he fucks in and out of you. Changbin plays with your nipples, his hand taking turns between them while the other is used to keep himself propped up to watch. “You’re making him feel good, can you tell?” he asks, and you look at Chan, who has sweat trailing down his brow and his plump bottom lip sucked between his teeth, face scrunched in pleasure. 
It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you turn back to Changbin, a small pout on your lips. “I-I wish I-” a deep breathy moan interrupts your dialogue as Chan hits your spot, but you continue, “I wish I could’ve s-seen you too.” You bet he looked absolutely divine, just as Chan does. Changbin groans, your sentiment evidently having an affect on him. “God, you’re the fucking sweetest, bunny,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss you some more, his tongue once again shoving it’s way into your mouth. You tangle your fingers in Changbin’s curly hair as he kisses you, and he hisses when you unintentionally tug during a particularly harsh thrust from Chan. 
Changbin simply watches your face in awe for a moment when you pull away to breathe and let yourself fall back against the mattress, finding you incredibly cute, beautiful even, even with your hair a mess and drenched in sweat. “B-Binnie, Channie, think ‘m gonna cum again-” you whine, eyes rolling back once more when it causes Chan’s thrusts to become harsher. “Yeah? Gonna cum again, slutty bunny?” Changbin smiles, egging you on with his voice. 
You nod quickly, pleas starting to fall from your lips effortlessly, “I-I can, right? Been a good girl, a good bunny? Good bunnies can cum?” They both smile, endless encouragement leaving them such as “yes pretty, go ahead and cum for us,” and “good bunny, good girl, cum sweetheat.” Changbin pulls you back to his lips as you cum, wanting to kiss you as you cum since he missed the chance earlier, and he eagerly swallows your noises, his fingers finding your clit once more to drag out your orgasm. 
Chan as well starts to become louder, his grunts becoming more successive with each thrust, not losing speed even as his hips start to lose their rhythm. He grabs your face and tears you away from Changbin, kissing you in a display that is either meant to make Changbin jealous again, or is simply for his own pleasure. Or maybe it serves both purposes at once, because as Changbin whines in protest, you can feel Chan smirk against your lips before he’s losing himself again, his groans muffled against you as his hips stutter once, twice more before he’s spilling inside you, ropes and ropes of cum filling you to the brim. 
You reach out to Changbin’s hand, squeezing it in a gesture that is meant to stop his jealousy, and he smiles at you, calling you a “sweet little thing” once more, giving you a peck to your forehead. Your eyes close, not opening even as Chan softens and slips out of you, exhaustion having clearly seeped into every molecule of your body. “Poor thing’s tired,” you vaguely hear Changbin say as he wipes the sweat off your brow. Chan responds, though it’s hard to make out what he says as you unconsciously slip into sleep, unable to prevent it with how heavy your entire body has become, rest quickly claiming you. 
Tumblr media
The sound of birds loudly chirping wakes you, and you blink slowly awake, eyes straining as you realize you’re in the sunlight. You sit up quickly, looking down at yourself and then your surroundings; you’re out of the forest proper, in the clearing where your home sits quaintly in the middle, and dressed back in your prior clothing and with your hood over your ears- barring the underwear you lost. 
You’d think last night was a dream if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel yourself bare underneath your dress; so they really upheld their promise and brought you back home..? You see your basket, sitting neatly in arm’s reach, a small note resting atop the berries and leaves you gathered yesterday that simply reads, “Last night was fun, wasn’t it, little red? Come play with us again sometime,” with a cutely drawn heart at the end, signed ‘Binnie and Channie.’
852 notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 4 months
Note
hi!!! i luv your writing, congrats on 6k 🤍 for the celebration can I request the prompt:
❛ was that your first kiss? ❜
w/ steve harrington? 
hi angel thank u so much for your request!
steve harrington x fem!reader
Steve is looking at you like he might kiss you. You desperately want him to.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. His lips move around the words seamlessly. You shouldn’t be watching his mouth so closely, but you are, and you can’t seem to pull your eyes away.
Steve must notice this because he brings a hand to your chin to tilt you up ever so gently. You’re pressed very close to each other, sitting with your legs dangling off the hood of his car. There’s plenty of room up here but Steve’s chosen to sit with his thigh pressed to yours. He looks down at you, something in his eyes that you can’t quite make sense of. The gold from his porch light reflects in his deep brown eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. “Please?”
You blink up at him. Is he kidding? Maybe you’re dreaming. Your mouth struggles to form sound, your tongue in knots.
“Yeah,” you finally get out, more of a breath than a real word.
Steve looks back at you. His gaze is so intense you feel as though it could set you on fire. “Yeah?” He asks, unwaveringly kind as always. The corner of his mouth twitches with the whisper of a smile. “Are you sure?”
You swallow hard. You really, really want him to kiss you.
“Yes,” you manage to nod and hope you don’t sound too desperate.
Steve smiles, wide and pretty. He’s got such a lovely smile. It’s the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter shut. Half a second later Steve’s mouth is on yours.
It’s wildly different to anything you’ve ever imagined. It’s eons lovelier. Steve’s lips are soft and gentle, his hand at your chin carefully angling you up towards him. Your stomach explodes with butterflies, fluttering madly in your ribcage. Steve tastes like spearmint and raspberry slurpee. His other hand wanders to your hip, fingers brushing a strip of your skin where your shirt tides up. His palm cups your hipbone, a warm, heavy weight.
Being kissed is like touching starlight, you decide. It warms you from the outside in. Burns your fingertips and makes your chest buzz with white hot electricity.
When Steve pulls away, he’s stolen all the air from your lungs. You’re embarrassingly breathless. Steve doesn’t seem to care. His hands stay on you as he tilts his head to one side.
“Was that your first kiss?” He asks quietly.
You know he’s not trying to embarrass you, he never would, but you flush anyway.
“Yeah,” you admit, shy. “Was I bad?”
Steve shakes his head vehemently. His hair flops sideways. “No. No, of course not, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, his touch so tender it aches. “You were perfectly fine, honey.”
“Oh,” you say lamely.
Steve smiles at you lopsidedly. He’s so pretty, you think. You hope he wants to kiss you again.
He curls his fingers over your cheek to carefully tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His other hand slides up your side to rest in the dip in your waist. You feel something in your chest that you’ve never felt before. This lovely explosion of brilliant colours at the realisation that Steve really, really likes you. That you’re liked by someone as kind and as pretty as Steve Harrington. That in itself almost feels like a kiss.
Though, Steve must read your mind, because he angles you up again in line with his mouth.
“Since that was your first kiss …” he says slowly. “Would you like me to give you your second?”
All you can do is nod. Steve gives you your second kiss, and many more after that.
639 notes · View notes
mrpenguinpants · 1 year
Text
Overdue Bills
— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?
— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha
-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]
Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.
Tumblr media
Alhaitham
There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.
Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.
It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.
The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.
He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.
In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.
It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.
"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.
"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."
He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.
"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.
"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.
"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.
"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.
"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.
Ayato
Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.
It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.
He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.
It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.
It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.
You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.
He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.
It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.
Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.
"Why don't you become my fiancee?"
The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.
"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.
"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."
You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."
"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"
You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.
"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.
"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.
"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.
Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.
"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."
Kazuha
While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.
Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.
He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.
When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.
He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.
"There you are."
Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.
"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"
It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.
"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."
---
There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.
"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.
"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.
"About time lover boy, let's get you home."
---
Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.
[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars
@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana
3K notes · View notes
hanrinz · 10 months
Text
THE EGOIST NEXT DOOR.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing. isagi yoichi x gn! reader ( word count. 1.0k ) genre. boy next door
synopsis. wherein the guy next door often borrows things from you and then he asks for something different.
content. fluff, just isagi your handsome neighbor, loser isagi lol, use of the word 'pretty', word vomit. minimal proofread.
notes: after a month of no post i finally posted smth :') omg i miss writing sm </3 omg first real fic?? lol :x isagi is a loser no one can change my mind.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a knock sounds through the hallway, six in the morning, you were woken up from your slumber.
who could possibly be up at this hour, on a weekend too? other than your grandmother who you think is the only person who can possibly do so, no one else comes to mind.
swinging your feet off the mattress and dragging yourself to the front door. the knocks haven't ceased down and it only adds to your annoyance.
"coming!" a frustrated huff leaves your mouth as you unlock the door.
only to be met with deep blue eyes and a sheepish smile that accompanies his face.
oh.
"isagi?" brows knitted in confusion, your newly moved neighbor isagi yoichi, who's around your age and often passes by your door by night coming home from practice.
if you recall correctly, a month has already gone by since he had occupied the door next to yours. and a month since he has been knocking at your door whenever he needs something.
or moreso in borrowing something from your home.
most of it being ingredients that should never be gone inside a kitchen. the last thing he had borrowed from you, was your sugar that he still hasn't returned.
the last time you checked your apartment wasn't a convenient store, just for him to knock at and get things as he pleases. you might as well charge him for everything he's been borrowing in your home.
"hi, pretty," a hand comes up as a greeting. curse him and his face, isagi yoichi was too pretty to be smiling at you on this god-forbidden morning.
"sorry to bother you this early, but i need to borrow something, again." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"isagi, this is the seventh time already." you reminded him.
isagi is nice, yes, unfortunately. it can't really be helped for you to be mad at him long, not when he always makes sure to drop by some cookies that you love, with little notes that are sticked on it.
a way of his compensation to the troubles he had caused.
isagi is nice, but this growing routine needs to be put to a stop—for your sanity and to your pocket that is on the verge of crying.
you're sure, soon enough the both of you would really need to run to the grocery for a restock—also the very thing that isagi had been forgetting to do, you wonder how he's even surviving.
his embarrassment only grew, his cheeks deepened to the shades of red and he clears his throat with a response. "i know, sorry."
you lean onto your door frame, sighing as you let him borrow something from you one last time, "fine, but this will be the last time."
his eyes were now brimming as he smiled so brightly, it might as well rival the sun itself.
"really?" disbelief and excitement evident in his voice. "but promise me first, y/n. you won't be mad, okay?"
you look at him with suspicion, one brow raised, eyes squint in question. "isagi.. what is it?"
"you won't be mad though, right?" he asks once more.
"just get on with it, yoichi."
for someone who is shamelessly borrowing a lot of things from their neighbor, isagi is losing all the confidence to ask you one thing right this very moment.
the pep talk he had with bachira the night before didn't even help with the ever growing anxiety that he feels on his chest. it's funny though, if he wasn't in this position he would've laughed at the situation at hand.
isagi is stupid and an idiot—what rin would've said to him, but lukewarm might just be the perfect word, for what he is about to do.
he reckons he could even possibly recover from this moment ever again, but to hell with it. what is he if not an egoistical striker who can't even get the number of his pretty neighbor next door?
possibly a loser, but let's be honest. he kind of is.
but we can excuse that because of his boyish charms, can we?
the silence that hovers over the atmosphere was rather foreign, uncharacteristically from all the comfortable stillness you had with him.
the anxiety that swirls within was contagious, isagi and this newfound silence was not helping with it.
and in the middle of all the uncomfortable reverie and this consuming tension, with hundreds of practice and perfection in his head, he still managed to fuck things up.
"can i borrow your phone?"
fuck.
isagi yoichi is a loser. even after all the countless talks and encouragement insults he had received, isagi yoichi had made a mistake once again.
you looked at him with confusion painted all over your face and to be honest, yoichi might have died a little on the inside.
but what's a man gotta do? he's more determined than to let his already blown away ego and his thoughts, back down from this.
"my phone?"
"..yes.. please?"
you look at him incredulously, doubt was much apparent, but you acquiesce to his plea. grabbing your phone from the bedside of your room, leaving isagi to contemplate every decision he had made.
coming back to him not long, with the device in your hand, handing it to him without any clue to what he needs it for.
an idea comes to mind onto what he is using it for, it may have been he was locked out of his apartment, or maybe he lost his keys, or maybe his phone was dead and his charger was nowhere to be seen.
a lot of possibilities, but it remained to be a mystery.
isagi returned your phone to you without a word, you look at him with much more confusion and he only gives you a sharp grin before running off.
what a way to save himself from this scenario.
leaving you puzzled, as you look at your phone with your contacts left open and noticing a new one added to it, with a name you're very much familiar with.
yoichi ;)
maybe, yoichi isn't here to borrow from you anymore.
Tumblr media
© fallenssun 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works on here or any other websites.
1K notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 5 months
Note
idk if this is really boring but could you do a leah x alessia x reader where r isn’t a footballer but has to do some charity football match for work or whatever (u can work out the details idk😭) & her gfs get competitive over teaching r how to play and prepping her for the game then they go support her at the match and r does really good IDK feel free to ignore if that’s rubbish lmfao
Tumblr media Tumblr media
psa; just because i write this does not mean i ship these two irl! offence and defence II a.russo & l.williamson
"baby?"
you looked up from your book with a hum to meet alessia's raised eyebrow, leahs head in your lap as she lay down on the sofa dead asleep. "what is this?" your girlfriend questioned, turning her phone to face you as your eyes widened.
"where did you find that less?" you sighed, the snap of your book closing causing leahs eyes to flutter open as she mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, burying her face in your stomach.
"its all over your companies social media, i hardly had to go looking." alessia holding up a screenshot of a poster for an upcoming charity football day ran by the company you worked for. "i'm not doing it anyway so it doesn't matter." you rolled your eyes.
"and why not?" alessia scoffed, locking her phone and crossing her arms. "because football is your thing, not mine." you gestured between your two blonde lovers and back to yourself. "babe its for charity!" alessia pointed out and you groaned, knowing now she'd latched on there wasn't a chance she'd let it go.
"i'll still go and help out with the fundraising and the event itself, i'm just not playing." you chuckled, leah pulling her face out of your hoodie with a tired scowl. "shut up!" the blonde grumbled tiredly, fixing the two of you with a glare, annoyed at the interruption to her afternoon snooze.
"sorry lee." you apologized softly, running a hand through her hair and kissing her forehead. "no you'll wanna be awake for this, get up!" alessia smacked the back of her legs, taking a seat on the opposite end of the lounge as leah groaned.
"leave her be and drop it alessia!" you warned the striker with a firm look who only poked at the back of leahs legs repeatedly until she finally sat up with a huff. "what?" she spat toward the other blonde with an unimpressed glare as the girl handed her the phone.
"so?" leah questioned, not quite putting things together still half asleep. "she's refusing to play." alessia spoke about you as if you weren't even there as leah paused for a moment, cogs turning until it clicked.
"you're playing." she rounded on you, handing alessia back her phone and rubbing at her eyes, face still a little puffy as you exhaled deeply.
"no i am not, please just let it go!" you pleaded, your puppy dog eyes which normally worked a charm to get you whatever you wanted not working for you this time as both your girlfriends stared on unfazed.
"suddenly i feel a cramp coming on. oh this might be fatal!" you groaned, clutching your hamstring with a dramatic cry of pain, a smile tugging at alessia's lips as leahs remained pursed into a thin line.
"guess you better rest it tonight then, we start training tomorrow." "what!"
~
"come on love, training time." leah clapped the moment the three of you returned from a run as you groaned, laying down on the floor in protest.
you'd hardly ran far, only enough to keep the girls legs warm on their day off, but kicking a ball around your backyard was the last thing you felt like doing.
"i'll just watch some football games, study them. that's fine!" you waved her off as alessia watched on amused after chugging a glass of water.
"no you won't. you're dating two professional footballers babe this is our area of expertise. let us help you!" leah loomed over you, holding out her hands to help you up, wiggling her fingers impatiently.
"i didn't ask for help, thank you though." you slapped her hand in a lazy high five before they slumped back to your sides. "baby." leah now addressed alessia who raised an eyebrow. leah only clicked her fingers, pointing to you and striding off outside.
"hi gorgeous." alessia grinned down at you, blonde hair tied back in a messy bun as she chewed on gum, a habit which stressed you out to no end when she'd do it while playing or exercising.
"fine." you gave in with a sigh, knowing what came next as you held your arms up straight. alessia grabbed your wrists, hauling your body up and over her shoulder, walking the two of you out to the backyard.
"first lesson. kicking!" leah announced as alessia placed you down on your feet, leaving it to leah as she sat down on your back steps, leaning back on her elbows and watching on with a toothy grin of amusement.
"okay babe. kick the ball!" leah ordered, placing it down by your feet as you glared at her, poking the ball with your toe as it dribbled a mere thirty centimeters and stopped. "the more you fight us on it, the longer we spend out here." leah warned, tapping the ball back as it returned to your feet.
"kick it." she repeated as you wound up, this time booting it with all your force as it went sailing up and over the back fence. "oh we lost the ball...what a shame!" you shrugged, turning on heel and trying to return inside as alessia grabbed the back of your shorts.
with a shake of her head she pushed you gently back toward leah who'd already returned with another ball. "you're gonna make a perfect striker with that right foot baby." alessia smiled happily causing leah to scoff.
"she's gonna be an even better defender with that power in her kicks." leah rebutted with her hands on her hips. "okay my loves lets not-" you tried to intervene, knowing all too well where this was headed, cut off before you could even finish.
"striker." "defender." "striker!" "defender!" "she's playing offence leah!" "she'll be playing defence alessia!"
you gave up at that point as their bickering erupted, alessia jumping to her feet as you rolled your eyes and headed inside. you gave your boss a quick call, updating you were in fact available to play and wincing at he announced the only position left.
"baby you ran off." alessia appeared as you'd hung up, leah not far behind. "no! the two of you started arguing like children, so i took a leave of absence." you quipped, staring them both down as they smiled guiltily.
"doesn't matter anyway, there was only one position left." you sighed, both your girlfriends staring at you eagerly awaiting your answer. "well?" leah pushed impatiently as alessia shoved her with a look.
"goalkeeper."
~
"okay baby we're gonna start slow. lee will throw it and you'll just catch it." alessia instructed as you exhaled but nodded, readying yourself.
"see? easy love." leah smiled happily as you caught the ball, repeating the activity for a while, leah starting to throw in different directions causing you to have to move to catch it.
"now we move onto kicking and saving." you'd moved in front of the small goal which took permanent residence in your backyard. "go easy!" you warned nervously, having seen many a time just how powerful alessia could kick.
"ready?" you nodded, readying yourself as the blonde took a step back, boots hitting the ball with a thud as it came sailing toward your head and you darted out of the way.
"you're supposed to stop it not avoid it babe!" alessia lectured as you fixed her with a glare. "i will stop it when you don't kick it at my head!" you growled, booting the ball at her as hard as you could as she was now the one to dart away.
"stop laughing!" you turned your glare on leah now whose chuckles ceased, holding her hands up.
"okay! i think that's enough for today."
~
"baby think fast!" you barely had time to lift your head before alessia's trainer came flying at you, smacking you in the side of the face as leah choked on her mouthful of food beside you.
"alessia mia teresa!" you yelled, the blonde sprinting out of the room as you hauled her shoe after her. "something funny?" you challenged your other girlfriend, her smile dropping as she shook her head and you huffed, moving to the sink to wash your dishes.
"why are you so grumpy this morning my girl?" leahs arms wound round you from behind, her chin resting on your shoulder.
"why do you think? all week the two of you have been throwing things at me, kicking stuff at me, hitting me with shoes and fruit and books!" you scowled, trying to push her body away from you but the taller girl held on tightly.
"it was part of training! and hey you caught most of it...the last couple of days." leah winced at the memory, her and alessia perhaps a little too passionate in their mission to mold you into the best goalkeeper they could.
"well i didn't ask to be trained!" you reminded firmly, placing your dishes in the drying rack and shoving leah away. "i am not a dog." you warned her seriously, poking at her chest and turning, barreling right into someone else's.
"good morning i love you?" alessia tried, holding your body tightly to hers with a guilty smile, ducking her head to repeatedly kiss the side of her face where she'd assaulted you with her shoe.
"you're lucky i love you too."
~
"baby! you did so so so so good." you laughed as alessia picked you up in a bear hug, spinning you around for a minute before leah whined it was her turn, tugging you into her body and peppering your face with kisses, mumbling how proud she was.
"okay okay i am still at a work event." you gently pushed her off, face flushed bright red both from the game you'd just won and the showering of pda.
"-then when you did the dive??" alessia gasped, the three of you now sat in her car and on your way back to your shared home. "yeah love where did you learn to dive like that?" leah asked, leaning forward with a curious frown.
"watched a bunch of videos of mary. i told you if you just left me be to study i'd have been fine! instead of assaulting me with a barrage of household objects all weeks." you rolled your eyes playfully, alessia squeezing your leg with a smile, other hand on the steering wheel.
"well we're exceptionally proud of you baby girl." leah beamed, pinching your cheek before kissing it, dropping back into her seat. "good! because do not expect that ever again, god i don't know how you do that every weekend i am exhausted." you groaned tiredly.
"not too tired i hope love, we still have to celebrate you." alessia smiled suggestively, meeting leahs eyes in her rear view mirror as the eldest blonde leaned forward again, placing a few gentle kisses to your neck.
"yeah baby, gonna make you feel like a winner. our winner!"
650 notes · View notes
nvoirs · 1 year
Note
Leon taking the fem reader’s virginty for the first time, but he is an experienced gentleman and the reader is a sweet girl who has been corrupted by the likes of this man. 👀👀
Can you include Praise and body worship please?
I'm so sorry this to so long, I hope you like it <3 Also I apologise if my writing font and style keeps changing I'm just trying to figure out what works best for me.
Tumblr media
Leon was every woman's dream man. He had the looks, the charm, the personality you name it. His witty, flirty nature made the ladies giggle and swoon for a matter of fact. So although it had been a good six months since you and him started dating you still questioned yourself as to why he chose you? You were a boring plain Jane, not some glamorous Marilyn Monroe that swept Leon off his feet.
Six months and only kisses remained. Don’t be wronged though, the kisses could be very heated and you loved it. You craved more though, you wanted Leon to touch you lower and lower until-
Snapping out of your trance when you saw Leon himself crouched in front of your hunched over form on the couch.
“Hey, are you good? Looked like you were hypnotised.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, doing fine.” You sighed.
He raised an eyebrow, a quizzical look that basically said you seriously lying to my face?
“Tell me what’s up, promise I won’t laugh.”
To be honest Leon was also getting distracted, not by daily stresses but by yourself. That low cut top you wore was just a little too low, and your lips looked nice and soft, plump and coated in a sparkly peach pink gloss. It took all of his willpower not to take you right then and there. He was aware you still suppressed your virginity, and he did not want to rush you into things you may possibly regret.
“Okay.. Leon, I want to take it to the next stage with you.”
No way did you mean what he thought you meant..
“Yes, I mean sex.” The pinkish blush evident on your cheeks slowly crept up as you squeezed your hands together waiting for an answer head hung low.
“If that’s what my girl wants, I’m going to give it to her.”
Taking your hands in his he guided you to your own bed, slowly pushing you into the soft, foamy mattress. His lips mushing with yours as he sloppily kissed you trying his ever so hardest not to quicken things. He wanted your first time to be special, gosh he was so lucky knowing he was your first.
You bit your lips as you watched from below him, a string of saliva following as Leon broke the kiss. He could taste the peach flavour of your lips, pulling off his t-shirt his naked torso on display for you to gawk at. His incredible build had you in a trance, the way his muscles and biceps flexed deliciously when he leaned back down onto the bed.
“Gonna make you feel so good baby, you hear me? Now lift your legs.”
You complied to his soft request, lifting your legs and hips so he could shimmy of your pj shorts. The cold air hit your thighs but was enveloped in a warmish, wet feeling. His tongue. Leon moved his head towards the apex of your thighs beginning to gently kiss them before moving to the inner thigh. He looked at you before diving down to place a flurry of ticklish open mouthed kisses before sinking his teeth into one thigh.
You jolted at the sudden change in demeanour it felt surprisingly good sending a shock straight to your now throbbing core. His nose nuzzled against the cotton of your underwear, right on the soiled part that had been stained by your arousal oozing itself out of your sensitive cunt.
“Smells s'good, can I take this off for you sweetheart?” The string of desperate whines were all Leon needed to know that yes you did want it. Taking his sweet time pulling down your panties completely off and staring at your glistening treasure. So wet and aroused just for him he couldn't wait to dig in.
“Baby this all for me, hm?” Bringing his ring finger to your wet folds flicking upwards to get a little moan out of you, your hips bucking into the air.
“I'm gonna put a finger in, gonna make you feel real good you hear me?” Your furious nodding made Leon's arrogance grow, coating his fingers in your sticky slick he rubbed at your entrance.
“Please Leon, put it inside.”
“It'll hurt angel, but I promise It's gonna pass real soon.” Before you could respond he'd eased his thick, long fingers into your tight, wet hole making you cry aloud. Gripping his free arm, squeezing it as he began to slowly thrust his fingers inside of you. The pain began, but ended just as Leon had mentioned it would. Pleasure clouded your thoughts, you'd been missing out if this is what it felt like to be fingered. But maybe it was just Leon and his skilled fingers.
His pace never faltered, wanting you to reach your first proper orgasm with him; he added a second finger stretching you out invitingly for when the time came. Broken whines and gasps left your dry throat, pressure building  in your stomach you couldn't speak your words lodged in your throat as you came all over Leon's fingers.
“That's right baby all over my fingers, gonna lick it all up f'ya.”
Slowly pulling out, Leon had a sly smirk painted across his angelic features. If you were this loud with only his fingers, how would you react to his cock? Well guess he'd find out very soon. Bringing his fingers to his pinkish lips he licked them teasingly, looking at your blanked out expression.
“Are you ready for the real deal, my angel?”
“Yeah Leon please, want your cock inside me.”
Oh so straightforward you were, it's one of the things that Leon absolutely adored about yourself. He had no idea how you were still a virgin, but maybe you did believe in destiny and waited for him. His low growl felt possessive, pushing you back into the plush pillows he unbuttoned your low cut pyjama top before chucking it aside. Just as he had suspected from earlier you were wearing no bra. He chuckled, grabbing both your breasts and kneading them between his fingers. Thumb pads dancing over your hardened nipples, grazing them teasingly before latching his sweet mouth onto one. Your mewls made him weak to the knee, his excitement grew in his pants wanting to desperately be inside of you just as much as you wanted it.
Sliding his pants and briefs of his meaty thighs, Leon advanced towards you again spreading your legs forcefully before leaning down into your ear. “M’gonna make you feel so, so good you look so pretty like this baby.”
“Please Leon.” Your gentle request made Leon’s heart flutter, he really just couldn’t get enough. It felt so intimate, you trusted him and he wanted to prove to you that he was the only one for you.
Grabbing himself and positioning at your tight entrance he pushed in, the acoustic melody you made somewhat between a cry and a moan made Leon soften as he allowed you to adjust to him.
Crystalline tears filled your eyes from the pain of your boyfriend stretching you out and making a home of you nestled deep inside. Sniffling you managed to speak up, tapping the blonde's shoulder. “Can move now Leon- please.” Obeying Leon began to slowly thrust into your guts making your shaky breathing louder, the air felt stifling hot and you didn’t know where to look as you locked eyes with his pale blue ones.
“Aw my baby, shh It’s okay now why’re you crying my darling? Did It hurt you a lot? I’m so sorry my love, do you need anything?” Leon’s million questions floated right past your mushy brain, but you requested one thing.
“I want you fuck-” You whimpered as he sped up hitting a particularly treasured spot of yours but you continued your sentence. “To be closer ha- to me please!”
Leon closed the distance between your sweaty bodies, his chest pressed against your boobs, his hold on your thighs tightening as he ploughed your guts out. “S’ pretty, so gorgeous I love you so much.” He was met with an a Capella of mewls before he felt you cumming around his cock, your fucked out face blanking out while coming down from your high.
“Come on baby one more for meh, can’t let you off. It's your first time you need at least two, trust me.” And before you could even respond he was already overstimulating your insides, your fingers curled in his honey coloured hair. His face buried between your tits, you could smell his hair that lavender shampoo he always used, he smelled so damn good you had your eyes fluttering shut.
“Cum with me baby, I know you can c’mon please, please?” Leon’s guttural groan had you cumming for a second time tonight, you felt his warm, thick cum drip inside of you pulling out and collapsing on the bed. Leon caressed your shoulder lightly kissing the small freckle you had there.
“Thank you Leon, I love you no one can change that I pinkie swear on it.” You stuck out your finger cutely.
Just as he had thought, such an unpredictable and straightforward little thing, but he stuck out his pinkie all the same.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
chococolte · 1 year
Note
hi, can I request SAGAU SCARAMOUCHE getting spoiled and praise by their grace? It's okay if you don't want to! have a great day/night <3 [also gn reader please.]
word count. 520
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationship, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. pretend like it hasnt been almost 2 months since i last posted writing 😍 this is short but uhmm ill try to write something else soon!!! orz
Tumblr media
Your hands linger on his for a moment.
Scaramouche does his best not to overthink it, despite the position the two of you are in. His heart stutters where it sits in his chest, an unsteady beat pounding in his ears.
All he can hear is your breath and the sound of his own heartbeat. It's a struggle to keep himself contained— the soft flesh of your hands brushing against his own, the way you hover ever so slightly above him. Already, he finds himself uncharacteristically weak.
But it's your words that bring him to his knees so easily.
"You're so lovely," you say softly in his ear. He feels his resolve, already beaten and bruised, crumple a little more.
A shiver tiptoes down his spine and comfortably nestles itself in his lungs, as if it was always meant to be there. All of his breath is lost in one moment, a sudden swelling of warmth pooling in his chest.
Scaramouche reprimands himself for being unable to keep his strength, but your words echo in his mind as if they are the only thing worthy enough to settle there.
To him, they are. You are the only one who has yet to abandon him.
The fear still chokes him at times, all-consuming and overwhelming. One day, you will disappear like fine dust in the air; one day, he will search for you, and even if he ran until his legs gave out— even if he dug until his nails bled, he would still be unable to find you.
All who he cares about will one day leave him. To think you are the exception is to not to spare himself of agony, to imagine for one second that he has found his peace— but to enhance it.
One day, you will be embers, and he will be without you. You will abandon him, and leave him wretched and wanting.
But yet, your hands still coil around his hair. Your breath still hangs heavy in the air, and he can feel the warmth of your lap beneath his head. You are here with him, still breathing, not yet gone.
You are above him, still whispering sweet nothings in his ear as if he is deserving.
"Stay with me a little longer, okay?" You ask, with the same sweet voice he has grown far too used to. But his heart still churns at the sound of it, and his legs will always continue to beckon him forward if he knows you are what awaits him.
You ask as if he would have ever thought of saying no.
Scaramouche only wants to lie a little longer in your embrace. For a brief moment, he can hide himself beside you, protected from every bad thought. For a brief moment, he can pretend that he is somewhat deserving of your touch.
"My good boy," you laugh. It's a gentle thing; softly slithering in the air like an asp, quick to burrow in his skull. He's quick to hide his face in his hands, quick to wonder just how much weaker he can get for you.
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Note
this is kinda self indulgent but a few hours ago i was trying to fix some problems with my email and im not tech savvy so i was frustrated and at that point i just cried and gave up LMAO can we get that with a comforting remus☺️☺️ i totally get if you'll refuse this request but if ever you take the time to write this thank you so much🫶❤️❤️
modern au
“I don't know how to do it,” you say. You're walking that fine line between frustration and upset, paralysed, and when you talk the emotion in your voice is obvious. 
Remus perks up, which is to say he hears it and immediately comes to attention. “Do what, dove?” 
“I can't fix this email thing, I thought I fixed it, but it's still broken.” 
Remus is about as tech savvy as you are, which isn't very. He uses his laptop for Microsoft Word and Scrivener; he barely opens his emails. “I can have a look?” he offers anyways. 
Remus sits on the bench beside you at the kitchen table and pulls your laptop toward him. You have a hard time telling him the problem, all choked up with heat and wishing it would fix itself, “I probably messed it up myself but nothing comes up when I search for it and I just don't understand it.” 
He does a couple of the things that you'd already tried with no success. At your wits end, you stand up from the bench thinking you'll make yourself a drink, a burning lump in your throat as you grab a glass from the draining board and fill it with water. 
“I'm sorry, dove, I don't think I'm gonna do it. I'll ring Mary.” 
“It's okay.” You press your hand to your eyes. It's not okay, you're fed up and tired and you hate using the laptop. “Why is everything so difficult?” 
“Dove–” 
“I don't care, it can stay broken.” Unbidden, a furious tear races down your cheek. 
You glare at the glass of water in your hand and put it down in the sink. Remus makes his sound, that loving hum of sympathy as he stands to sidle up behind you. “It's alright,” he says, testing the waters with a hand on your shoulder.
You slouch at his touch and he takes it for the go ahead, wrapping his arms around you from the back, his chin pressed to the skin just shy of your eye. “Don't be upset, lovely,” he encourages, hands roving up and down the front of you gently. “We'll fix it. Just take a breath.” 
“I don't know why it won't work,” you say, trying to be more angry than upset. 
“I'm sure we'll figure it out. You've been on the laptop for hours, why don't we go sit down and watch the telly for a bit?” He takes one of your hands, holds it to your chest as he curves in around you. “Please don't wind yourself up. I'll get someone to fix it, okay? It's not the end of the world.” 
You know it isn't, but this is nice. You turn in his embrace for a proper chest-to-chest hug, wiping your tears dry in his shoulder. “You sound so sad when you sniffle,” he whispers, chuckling fondly as you do. 
“Sorry. I'm just annoyed.” 
“I know. It'll be fine, don't stress out about it.” His hands fan out over your shoulders, an encompassment physically that mirrors the warmth of his vocal comfort, the mild roughness of his voice and the care put into each word. 
He always cares about things, even when they're small in the grand scheme. “Thank you for trying to fix it,” you say into his shoulder. “I feel better knowing there wasn't an easy solution.” 
“Well, there might be. Or we're both idiots,” he jokes. 
You laugh wetly, hooking your chin over his shoulder. “Maybe.” You sigh, feeling much less heavy than you had. “At least we're idiots together.” 
344 notes · View notes
yxami · 7 months
Text
Lawrence part 2, trying to write silly stuff to get my brain started
desc: yandere victim yandere x kidnapper reader, gn reader, male yandere, slight nsfw, is it stockhold syndrome if he was dreaming abt it b4 it happened?
Lawrence:
Tumblr media
You cupped Lawrence’s cheek, gliding your hands across his smooth silky skin before he gasps at the soft touch. Unable to move, too anxious to move himself away from his crush, call it stockholm syndrome, manipulation, whatever, but there was no way he would reject your advances after so much anticipation. He’s been waiting too long to pass up on you finally reciprocating his feelings.
Well, what he thought was reciprocating but was actually a tactic to get him talking about when his parents would transfer the 500k into your account.
Something that would never actually happen.
Not with your victim begging his parents to let him stay longer. He had managed to convince his parents that he was fine and that you were his possessive friend who wanted to have a few sleepovers back to back. You wouldn’t have known about him even having a second phone until you saw him tweeting about how hard he’s crushing on someone.
That someone being you. You knew it from day one. You should’ve known having him tied in a chair, being teased for information would only cause this delusional fucker to love you even more. He’s still slightly convinced that you’re just a nervous wreck trying to mask your intentions instead of the reality of him being genuinely kidnapped for ransom.
“Ren, tell me, when are they going to give me the money so I can finally release you?” You rubbed his thigh, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen how tighter his pants looked in the matter of seconds, just ignore the forming dark spot, that’s not important!
“I Mmph- um..” He babbled, voice cracking as he tried to form his words, only for them to come out incoherent with his glassy eyes staring up at you. “I dunno..”
“I know your parents have that kind of money, why aren’t they giving it? Hmm?” You asked once more, wondering what it would take for him to spill the truth, maybe you’d have to actually take it as far as to touch the guy. He seemed excited enough already, judging by how his legs opened up a fraction at you rubbing his inner thighs, as if his body was instinctively revealing itself for you.
“Maybe they’re busy?? Ah— please please” He pleaded, unsure of what he was begging for. It could’ve been asking you to run your hand more across his inner thigh and bulge, or for you to keep speaking to him while he’s in this drunk haze of being addicted to your touch, to you, to everything.
“What would they be busy with? Too busy to think about their dear son? I know you’re spoiled, just look at you” You unintentionally spat your words with slight venom, being envious of what riches he grew up with, so much so that he’d have trouble seeing the struggles you grew up with.
Your fingers firmly wrapped at his jaw, turning his head to see the sides of his face, seeing how the blush poured over every area that you managed to affect.
A surprised whimper escape from his lips, causing him to try to pull his face away, he doesn’t think he can handle anymore teasing, grabbing and you pulling on area you’d like, treating him like he’s yours and only yours to play with. God this is hotter than he expected, a little too much to handle, and yet he still can’t help himself to blurt out stupid things to get you to overwhelm him more than you already have.
He should be chastised for liking this so much, but this was written in every page of his book, getting tied and bound by you, interrogating him with no chance to get away, you might as well propose because he will soon!!
“They’re p-probably distracted with work so.. they haven’t noticed?” Lawrence hates being in-genuine with you, but he has to. He doesn’t want you kicking him out for lying through his teeth about something like this. It’s just a simple switch of the words, you’ll understand soon enough right?
You glanced at his phone, practically teleporting across the room, why didn’t you just search his phone? There was no need for you to be asking him if he just unlocked it!
“Um.. I can’t do that” He pushed his bottom lip out into a contemplating expression, he’s never declined anything you wanted but he has to right now. He doesn’t want you finding out the texts that he sent to his parents, you’d definitely get mad!
“Why?” You glared at him, leaning close so he could see your hatred for his defiance. Especially after he’s been so cooperative with giving you all the information you needed, yet suddenly when it comes to the money and contacting his parents he refuses to?
It makes no sense!
Why wouldn’t he— The realization finally hit you. He’s been telling you answer since the start. He’s in love with you and the idea of being kidnapped, of course he wouldn’t fucking tell his parents. He must’ve said something to them when he had his second phone. This is why they haven’t contacted you in a week!
So what now, you were stuck with this pervert?? You wanted the money but not enough to stay by him for as long as he wanted. Maybe you should find someone else and let him go. How unlucky were you to get this guy as your first victim.
“I’m sorry.. please don’t ignore me” Lawrence whispered out, looking up at you with that familiar look in his eyes. The sight that expressed a love sick look even if you were right in front of him. “I wanna tell you!! But you’ll be upset and I don’t want you to be mad” He whined, leaning towards you with a sorrow filled look.
His looks were convincing, you hated it but his adorable pout and expressions were never feigned!
“You texted them didn’t you? Probably something like you were fine and to not send anything?” You exhaled, no longer in the mood to get mad. You had no clue that was even possible.
“Mm…” He whined, looking at you, then at his hands that anxiously fiddled with each other, his eyes would flicker at you and then to the other. He wasn’t too sure if he should just spill it or not but ultimately he decided to obey. “Yeah.. I’m sorry” His frown increasing with tears that welled up in his eyes, causing them to be more shiny and pitiful than usual.
“God, I don’t know what I’m even gonna do with you, at this point I don’t even think I need you tied up” You mumbled your last sentence, deciding to test it out by untying him. It would probably be better if he ended up faking that he saw this situation in a red heart shaped glasses type of way.
“Huh? You’re untying me? N—No! Please don’t let me go, I don’t want to go back at least not right now” Tears streamed down Ren’s face, clearing showing he wasn’t ready to leave now. He was already on the verge of sobbing as he clung onto you.
You opened your mouth to tell him something along of the lines that you weren’t doing that but you couldn’t help but want to see if he was being real about wanting to stay so badly. Surely it was just a simple scenario that would be crushed once he realized the severity of it?
“Please..? I’m sorry I disobeyed you” His doe eyes forcefully making eyecontact with you, refusing to look away as if you’d punish him for doing so. “Just give me another chance? I swear I’ll be so good for you..” His whiny tone more evident while his bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he kept his arms around you.
“I was just untying you, you can leave if you want but you obviously don’t.. so just do whatever you want” You sort of mumbled, what were you supposed to do after testing him? It’s not like you could call his parents and tell them to pick up their son that refused to leave. He could snitch you out if he was mad enough anyways.
But his infatuated stare that you could feel burning holes in the back of your head said otherwise.
While you stepped up the stairs you were too lost in thought to hear his hesitant steps after yours. He pondering whether to follow you or not but he didn’t want you to leave his sight so he did. Maybe you’d let him roam around the house now, the only time you ‘technically’ let him was when he had to go to the bathroom.
“Um.. I can try cooking and cleaning the house while you work, will that convince you?” Lawrence followed close, on your tail while he wrapped his hands together, he wanted to hold onto you for comfort but grabbed his arm that reached out for you before you notice he tried.
“Convince me how?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, your palms resting right at the edge while your lower back pressed against it too, your calm demeanor only made him more comfortable that you were his kidnapper. If you were someone different, they would’ve never let him up here let alone speak to him like this. In such a friendly yet commanding tone..
“That I’m loyal! I’ll try to convince you that I’m good and how I can provide things for you!” He perked up at the chance to prove himself, you could see his eyes light up because of it. “Um.. but it can’t be money yet because I haven’t gotten my allowance and I don’t think my parents would give me 500k out of nowhere” He had an apologetic demeanor while looking at the floor, hoping his honesty helped with the situation.
You hummed in a approving tone, opening your fridge to look for something to snack on, or brunch if possible. Chinese left overs? Eggs with bacon if you wanted, or instant noodle soup if you weren’t in the mood to cook. Those were the only options that seemed appetizing.
“Can I help cook breakfast?” Lawrence stood behind the fridge door, towering over you while he leaned to see what you were observing. You turned your head up, seeing the unfamiliar sight of him facing down at you instead of the opposite where he’d sit in a chair and stare up.
“Yeah sure, grab a big pan while I get some of the stuff we need” You pointed, a little dazed at trying to get used to this new found roommate, at least for now, until you found a solution.
If only you knew this would be a permanent solution, at least until Lawrence decided to terminate this unspoken contract. You should’ve known it was sealed by the blush on his face after your approval to him proving his worth! Now, he has all the freedom to impress you that he’s a worthy husband roommate!
791 notes · View notes
poppurini · 1 month
Text
꒰ written by m ┊ HE’S OLD AND A LOSER! ෆ lilia fem!younger!reader, modern au, age gap, you loove teasing poor old lilia for being his age, up to u how old u want him to be but ME PERSONALLY ???? in his 40s <3
꒰ notes from m ┊ awkward / loser / tall / big lilia BECAUSE I CAN, lowercase intended, “it’s ooc” “the timeline doesn’t match” IDGAFFF you’ve been warned 💥💥 absolutely GROSS writing bcos this is stoopid ramble … don’t expect anything
Tumblr media
lilia who fumbles with his new phone and frowns at how complicated it is to navigate through everything. what’s wrong with plain old buttons with clear directions on them? they’re easier to press and doesn’t disappear from the phone itself! he’s sitting by himself, so, so focused on figuring out the phone before you laughed softly at how cute he looked. him? a former general? cute? he shrugs, not minding the compliment one bit since it was from his darling love.
you’d settle yourself onto his lap comfortably and take his phone into your hands, showing him how easy it is to navigate through them and that he was just old!
“see? easy! and you could do so much more with it too!”
“i can do many things with it, yes. but i don’t really need it. and also back in my day, phones were just to—”
a soft chuckle escaped the older man when you cut him off with a whine and a wave of your hand, snuggling into him and setting up his phone for him. he doesn’t really get what you’re tapping so much for, but his eyes brightened when he saw a nice picture of the two of you being displayed on the screen. now, he was intrigued.
“if you change this to anything else i’ll hate you.”
you were talking about his lock screen and he was perfectly fine with the picture you chose; it was endearing.
“but what if I want to change it to a different picture of my pretty girl?”
his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close against him. his voice playful and the corner of his lips tugged up into a small smile.
lilia who can’t seem to keep up with your energetic self as you dragged him around malls or amusement parks. he shakes his head and tells you he can’t go on rollercoaster rides because they’re far too extreme for his poor heart! but that man eventually caves and allows you to excitedly pull him in line. you know he workouts and eats healthy; he’ll be fine! he had a great build for someone his age.
he’d definitely be the kind of bf who gently nags you about how you shouldn’t have so much sweet stuff in a day. you’re on your second cotton candy and he’s NOT gonna let you have any more!! but feel free to sneak away and secretly purchase one (with his card) yourself when he’s busy talking about the cons of consuming cotton candy or sugary drinks
if you get upset at him please don’t be :( he’s really just looking out for your health and he knows you’re supposed to have fun in an amusement park but you’ll come back tomorrow right ?? so just save it for then! how about a nice dinner for now? with actual nutritious foods
lilia who gets all flustered when you shamelessly swoon at his attractiveness. from the visible veins that run up his hands to the sheer size difference between the two of you, you love every single thing about him! you’re not even shy at expressing how needy you are for him, clinging onto him every second of the day and intertwining your fingers so sweetly before playing with his large hands.
yes, yes … he knows he’s attractive and has had his fair share of lovers before but he hasn’t met an individual as enthusiastic as yourself. no seriously, was it his age that makes him feel like he’s unable to keep up with you? because he’s had girls swoon over him before when he was in his prime and he’d always always always!! know what to say just to get them even more head over heels for him but maybe his age is catching up to him…and youngsters like yourself with such enthusiasm and energy just makes him dizzy (affectionately)
ORRRRRRRRR
ok hear me out … MAYBEEEE loser lilia doesn’t think he’s THAT attractive even when he was in his prime. he wasn’t that good at talking to girls and all the girls loved confident, smug men, don’t they? but he wasn’t sooo desperate for a lover either so he was kinda just chilling and doing his own thing … until he got himself a bubbly girl like yourself who isn’t shy to admit just how in love you are with him
you’d notice all shades of red bursting across his cheeks. his hand coming up in an attempt to hide how flustered he looked but him moving his hand MADE HIS VEINS EVEN MORE VISIBLE !! so you’re obvi going crazy over it while snuggling into him all giggles and shit … making him even more flustered ugh he’s faking coughs clearing his throat and looking away
Tumblr media
212 notes · View notes
parvulous-writings · 4 months
Note
Oooh, I have a request idea!! How about Gale, Halsin, Astarion and Wyll or Karlach (if that's not too many ;-;) with a modern S/O from our world that makes them try a bunch of food from this dimension. I'd love to see their reaction to trying Soda or other Carbonated Beverages, and naturally seeing everyone's reaction to canned food - especially the kind that stays in the exact shape of the can even after you dump it into a bowl 🤣
Just imagine giving them this bad boy and being like "Bon appetit!" :D
Tumblr media
I like to think they'd be horrified 🥰 Thank you so much !!
Summary: I do love me a little whimsical AU, I can't lie - so this MAY go into the realms of silly, but you know what? It's going to be fun! It also may be a bit all over the place... but you know what I think it fits XD The scenario is kinda the same for all of them - I hope that's okay!
Warnings: Some are a bit shorter/longer than others! Other than that... I don't think there's anything!
Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!
Gale
Tumblr media
Out of everyone, Gale would probably be the most at-ease with you coming from another realm - he finds it absolutely fascinating.
He's asking questions all the time - is there magic in your universe? No?? What do you do, then??
You tell him about technology, and he is hooked. You start talking about electricity and immediately he's taking notes (mental or physical).
"I think I might actually have something you can try, Gale" you pull out of your pack a can of Coke (that somehow had survived the trip), and a tin of cranberry sauce that you had hoped to take home, before being whisked away to the land of Faerun. You offer him the can, and he just stares at it for a moment, observing it.
"And... what is this, exactly?" "It's a drink." "I fail to see how-" click "... Ah"
Isn't sure how the bubbles feel on his tongue - he almost spits out the drink the first mouthful he has. Doesn't mind the taste itself though - he would probably drink it flat, if he had the choice to.
"It's... Nice..." He seems mildly uncertain of this statement. "Though, I think I will stick to wine, and water..."
You telling him you can preserve food in metal near indefinitely? Pure 'teach me' moment. He will want to know EVERY secret on that front.
The tin of sauce confuses him. You tell him that it's sauce and he's eager to taste it - he's always on the look out for new flavours, as the self-declared cook in camp. Fish and potatoes can only keep you going for so long, until your tongue starts craving a new flavour.
When you present the unchanging... thing to him, he has no idea what to make of it. "That's... Not sauce. In fact, I don't even think that's edible - that looks like a health hazard."
He straight up refuses to use it that night, like he will not go near it, nor will he let it near the food.
Halsin
Tumblr media
Halsin doesn't really talk about you being from another realm all that much - it doesn't overly concern him, now that you've got his trust.
He likes hearing stories of your life -even though you have to explain 90% of what you talk about to him, he's always eagerly listening to whatever you have to say.
Will not touch anything in a can - drink or otherwise.
"I... Do not feel right in trying this... my apologies."
You will not be able to convince him, whatever you try and do, he just... Doesn't want to listen to anything about that. If you keep trying to push him on the subject, he'll probably end up just walking away.
Though he's aware that preserving foods is probably a good idea for the long run, but after having heard the fizz from the can of coke? That's... A no go, for the time being.
Astarion
Tumblr media
Astarion couldn't care less where you came from - so long as you're not going to stab him in the back, he's fine with you. You could be a crawling claw for all he cares - so long as you don't hurt him he really does not care.
Astarion doesn't typically eat anything other than his usual sanguine meals now that his affliction is out in the camp. This doesn't stop him from making snide comments on the food, though. And he makes especially snide comments when it comes to drinks - which he still partakes in quite happily.
"What do you mean... Fizzy?" His lips draw up slightly in a half-sneer, not being particularly drawn to the idea of... Whatever it was you were offering him. Though, he supposed, because it was you... He'd give it a go.
He manages to keep the beverage in his mouth after a sip, but the face he makes is beyond a grimace - clearly, he was not expecting that many bubbles.
Now when it came to the tinned sauce - or any tinned food for that matter... He'll simply laugh. "Now, I know we're short on supplies, darling, but... I don't think you'll get anyone to eat that." "Let me put it this way... If something like that was for my meal, I'd be running for the hills! ... And probably washing my mouth out with soap..."
"I am so glad I do not have to pretend I'm eating with you... Because that-" He points emphatically to the can-shaped food. "Would not, and will not, be going anywhere near my lips!"
Wyll
Tumblr media
Wyll is curious about the realm you come from, but doesn't normally pry. He figures that, if you're going to reveal anything about your home land, you'll do it in your own time, when you're comfortable. If you start talking about your home and your life, Wyll will do the same, to show that he's not taking the conversation for granted.
Wyll actually LIKES carbonated beverages. He savours the feel on his tongue - it's like nothing else he's ever had before, and he's instantly wanting more. If you ever do figure out the realm-hopping thing, you'll have to bring him some more - possibly some different brands or flavours for him to try.
"So... These beverages... They can... Taste of flowers, and other delightful things?" Wyll hums pleasantly at this thought. "Well, I know we have... Similar things, here in Faerun, but I am most intrigued on your realms' flavours... As pleasant as it all can be, you can only handle so much of the same..."
Though canned food doesn't.... Really seem appealing to him, he'll still give it a good try! He's down to try any food at least once.
He's not keen on the appearance of the cranberry sauce, but he has some with some turkey you've roasted, and he's in love with the taste. Sure, the appearance could use some work, but beggars can't always be choosers - at least it tasted delicious!
Absolutely LOVES tinned vegetables. He's not sure why - he knows they've got a very different taste and texture to their fresher counterpart, but... There's just something about them that he can't get enough of. Tinned carrots especially.
If you give him the chance - and Gale for once isn't trying to make dinner - Wyll will try and find a way to include tinned foods. He will get everyone to like them, he's certain of it.
Karlach
Tumblr media
Karlach LOVES hearing anything and everything about your home realm - from the mundane to the even mundane-r. You have a special tub to bathe in, not made from wood? And it has running water, like a river, that you can control?? That's one of the coolest things Karlach has heard of - and she longs for a way to try and bring that kind of plumbing to Faerun.
Karlach isn't fussed on the Coke can you offer her - she'll drink it, for sure, but if there's the option of another drink, then she'll probably opt for that first. Purely for the reason that it's a relatively new sensation compared to the other kinds of fizzy found in drinks across Faerun.
Like, fermentation has a kick, but in comparison, carbonation is a roar, that Karlach needs a little adjusting to - she has the best reaction out of the lot of them, I think.
"Whoo- that's... Hah, that's something, soldier... And how often do you drink this? Once a day? ... Several? Several cans of this a day?" She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "You're braver than me at some things, soldier."
However, when it comes to tinned food... She loves it. She's not even sure why - perhaps it's just the fact that she loves food. You show her the sauce first, and she doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that the sauce had retained the shape of the can. She sniffs at it, before just picking it up and taking a bite.
"A little sharp... But not bad!" Another bite. "You're meant to eat that with meat, Karlach," "Huh? .... Ah, well - still tastes good like this!"
She's not as fond of tinned veggies, but she'll still eat them. Normally dinner will now start with. "Aw, what? Don't we have anymore of that red stuff?"
295 notes · View notes
alicerosejensen · 1 month
Text
Something about sin. Pt.3
Warning: Age difference, Older!Leon, Reader daughter of another DSO agent, fem.reader, mention of sex, guilt.
A/N: The penultimate part. The second part was chaotic and probably the weakest, but it is what it is. I’m still trying to overcome my chronic fatigue and constant apathy, so if it’s not difficult for you, please write a few kind words if you liked this text.
I still decided that there would be four parts instead of three. The final chapter will probably be smaller in volume, but it will have a lot of dialogues and the resolution of the conflict itself, so I decided that it would be better to write it separately and not in one large text.
Once again, I apologize for the delay in publication, but sometimes our health fails us all.
Part 1
Part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And he would burn in hell for all the lust he feels for this lost innocent soul.
Your father would never forgive him for this, just as Leon will not forgive himself for having you in his arms. Albeit of his own free will, but getting out of bed, going to the bath and rinsing his face with cold water, Leon prefers to take all the blame on himself. You are innocent... you were innocent and he stretched out his dirty hands to you, put you into his bed three months after that kiss in the barn and, no matter how disgusting it may sound, slept with you.
The most tender, most precious girl he's ever had of all, he knows that he would have made the same decision every time if God had brought him back to the day he kissed you, allowing himself to desire you. That's why it's nice to come back to bed with you, even if it's soul-destroying from himself.
You destroyed him thoroughly.
You are his sin, a sweet obsession and a mad desire designed to crush all the little that he has managed to build in his hectic life. You mock him, tear him apart so that he pursues you and falls into this sinful ocean of passion without regrets. And Leon can't do anything to himself. He was older than you, almost twice as old, well, that was fine with you. The feeling of comfort and security never left while Leon was around, as if it was something you needed all your life. As he lay back in bed, he replayed your dialogue in his head. It's one thing to kiss while muffling the egregious voice in his own head that it's not worth it, and it's completely another to insert dick into his friend's daughter.
Leon was the first in every way for you and he understood it perfectly without words. It's not that your dad forbade you to date boys, but maybe your father's attention really wasn't enough if you reciprocated his feelings?
"I could be your father… Your father and I are the same age…"
"But still, you're not my father," you smiled then, begging him with puppy eyes to teach you love and move on to something more than ordinary kisses, which of course you were crazy about, but you want to understand what it's like to be with someone you love, even if he's much older than you.
You promised him that you were ready for more, for a new stage, and Leon continued to feel as if he was seducing a young girl, doing something dirty and vicious with you, something against your will. This, of course, was not the case, but the anxiety did not go away. Asking to think about this decision, to weigh everything, led nowhere, and in the end everything happened.
"Are you sure you want this?; Are you sure?; we can stop, sweetie, at any time you want"
His voice, saturated with anxiety, accompanied you throughout your first sex with him, and it was never as described in the books... however, this was not surprising and you knew very well that what is on the pages and in films differs greatly in real life. And yet, it's good that you got Leon and not someone else, because he took care of your feelings, trying to prepare you in such a way as to reduce all discomfort to a minimum: gentle kisses, a prepared bottle of lubricant, long intimacy , careful touches. All his movements were careful and together with you, he essentially got to know your body, trying to help you and himself understand what you would like in sex. he allowed you to touch him, showed how he liked it, smiling, kissing you on the corner of your lips, seeing the embarrassment on your beautiful face.
"My dear, do you remember?" his reminders constantly sounded while his thumb caressed your swollen clit with round movements, "I will stop as soon as you say"
How could you forget? Leon was catching every emotion on your face, afraid to catch the pain, but it was good for you. It's better than if it was a guy your age who didn't give a damn about you. Leon was doing everything right, but he was still a monster in his head. You liked it. There was no blood, none of the things your friends used to scare you with, but you didn't see the stars in the sky either, no matter how funny it sounded. Just because it was the first time and yet Leon left almost a thousand kisses on your face before and after sex. He took you to the shower, gently ran a sponge over your body, washing away all traces of intimacy, wrapped you in a towel and put you back to bed, not forgetting to bring a glass of water. You were sitting on his bed and the man's hands were firmly holding you by the waist while he weightlessly touched the bridge of your nose with his lips asking about your well-being. You could joke that you really feel a little unwell after sex, but seeing your lover's panic, it would be wise not to play him like that, otherwise this could be your first and last sex with him.
"I don't regret it," you said, hoping that it would take some weight off his shoulders.
Leon reassured himself that even if nothing came of this relationship, at least your first man was the one who took care of you and did not run away the next morning, managing to tell his friends about the new notch on bedpost.
.. But yes, now if your father finds out that you've been fucked, then a fist in the nose will be the most merciful thing Leon can ever get. Most likely, it will be an explosion of epic proportions and a shootout worse than Hollywood action movies. What should it tell him? "Buddy, but we can still drink beer and watch football, it's just that now I'm still sleeping with your daughter, whom you've been caring for and cherishing all his life?" This is shit, not an explanation. If his friend had once confessed to him that he was sleeping with HIS daughter, Leon would have killed the bastard and disposed of the corpse so that no evidence would be found. That's just that he is now the main culprit, and he does not want to leave your life when such a charming angel sleeps next to him in bed.
Leon doesn’t want to leave you, but he himself has no idea what outcome his actions will lead to. Hugging and pulling your body while you sleep, he kisses the back of your head, sincerely hoping that you won’t regret what happened between you, that you won’t cry in the morning, calling everything a mistake, but the devil is not as terrible as he is imagined...
A sound sleep was interrupted by caring strokes and soft kisses, although he is not a handsome prince, but he still got a sleeping beauty and it seems that the only thing you were unhappy with sitting with him at the kitchen table was that Leon woke you up too early. Like a gloomy owl with disheveled hair, you try to focus your gaze on coffee and not fall asleep while he says something and you ignore all his speeches until your name is called.
"Did you heard what I said?" and you honestly nod your head negatively to a heavy male sigh.
Trouble obviously doesn't come alone, fortunately you don't cry or curse him, instead you just snuggle up to his back and pull him back into the bedroom to sleep an extra couple of hours with him in your arms like the whole last night.
He was a good man. Not ideal, with his own problems, fears, experiences, but still he continued to care about you more than about himself, so he carefully turned to face you, hugging you, starting to gently rock you to the sides, burying his nose in the top of your head.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked still anxiously.
"All was good"
With Leon you could relax and trust him, last night he was perfectly prepared and constantly asked if you could continue or if he should stop, and you know that if you said yes, he would immediately end everything without caring about his feelings. The main thing is you! As a result, he treats you like a princess all day long, taking care of you. He even volunteered to comb your hair, which now smelled like his shampoo, and while Leon was fiddling with the comb, at the same time remembering the jokes that your father loves so much, you just laughed and enjoyed the complete adoration of his person.
“I’ll order food for us, and you relax on the couch. Choose the movie you want.”
Not surprisingly, Leon doesn’t know how to cook, he doesn’t have much time to improve this skill, but you don’t expect him to pick you up in his arms and put you on this very sofa, covering your legs with a blanket and handing you the TV remote control. Another girl obviously wouldn’t like it, but not you, although you didn’t feel helpless. There was some discomfort, but nothing scary or that would require consulting a doctor. As a result, the two of you spent another day lying cuddled on the couch, eating pizza, watching, flipping through channels and discussing various things. Despite the age difference, there was no feeling that Leon was some kind of ancient old man walking around with an ancient push-button telephone (although you assured him that there was nothing wrong with that). He smiled, playfully flicking you on the nose and it seems he even exhaled and came to reconciliation with his inner voice, but exactly until the moment when your father called.
And conscience woke up again.
He protected you, he didn't hurt you and took good care of you, Leon is ready as a faithful doggie to accept any thing you ask him, because he is...
It's worth admitting to yourself that this is not an affair because if Leon just wanted to sleep with someone, he went to a bar and found someone who wouldn't mind spending the night with him, and you are something more. He wants to cherish you and shower kisses on your face while you're lying serenely on his couch watching the show. A good excuse for the conscience that was gnawing into his brain and telling him that he was an ordinary son of a bitch, screaming: "Look, you took advantage of the poor girl's naivety. The daughter of your friend who supported you after China! How well did you repay his kindness by dragging his favorite daughter into bed!"
The phone rang but couldn't find the strength to answer.
You asked if everything was okay, to which Leon sighs and answers yes, asking not to worry. And then he gave you his sweater and you curled up next to him and fell asleep without caring about anything, because the thunderstorm with lightning no longer scared you both. And Leon really slept well for the first time in a long time, hugging you to his chest, knowing that when he wakes up he will find you where you fell asleep - with him.
No more notes with lipstick marks or paper airplanes on the nearby pillow. Besides, it’s so nice when you snuggle up to him at night, trying to hug him. Leon allows it. Your hands are much warmer. this makes him fall out of reality when he turns to you, wrapping a blanket around your body and pressing you to him so that you don’t freeze. It can rain outside as long as you like, his phone can ring off the hook with calls all night long, but his lips will still find yours and kiss you tenderly.
The forbidden fruit is very sweet.
For the first time in years, the government agent felt like he had something to treasure. Sometimes he envied your father for the fact that he could return to a cozy home where his beloved wife and daughter were always waiting for him, eat delicious home-cooked food and sleep in bed with his loved one. Not much is needed for happiness, according to Leon, and he would also like to receive this gift. But probably for you it's all just an affair. For children, you are young and he himself is not trying to knock you up. Besides, marriage is a matter that should be approached wisely, and neither you nor Leon are fools, so he doesn’t even console himself with the hope of a future together.
As a matter of fact, the matter is rubbish and Kennedy should not have put you to bed at all. How can he look your father in the eyes after what happened? And you? so Leon again does an even more disgusting thing - he ignores you.
You wrote him several messages, called him a couple of times, but the calls went unanswered, he didn’t even send a tiny message like “Sorry, work. I’ll call you later” or “I’ll call you when I’m free.” Yes, he could at least write something and not remain silent like a fuckboy who fucked half of the college! But you are not intruding, no, but this does not mean that you are not offended and you do not feel that you were simply used. For many months you felt this beautiful love for him, afraid to show it, but when the miracle happened, it turned out that the gingerbread house was not so sweet.
It was a complete failure, which brought you to tears, although you didn’t pester him with calls and messages because you didn’t want to look stupid, like the girls from high school who were chasing guys around. There should still be pride, but do you really have to pretend now that nothing happened between you? Actually, it wasn’t even that bad, right? he looked after you and didn’t throw you out of his apartment after sex; he was sweet and gentle, but no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself of this, the resentment still stuck like a bone in your throat.
Therefore, you locked yourself in a room and did not leave it for hours, and to all the requests of your parents you answered one thing "I feel not well", of course you managed to slip unnoticed into the toilet, but if your father saw this terribly swollen face from tears, then his weapon, which was always hidden from you when you were still a child, risked shooting someone- something in the balls, if your dad found out that the reason was a guy.
Although it would be more correct to say an adult man.
But your nightly sobs did not go unnoticed, and in the end, your dad really wanted to kick someone's ass because his babygirl was constantly crying due to a broken heart.
“If he somehow offended you, just tell me,” he asks, stroking your back soothingly, and you can’t even squeeze out a word, just cry. "And this little piece of shit will remember that he can’t offend my girl."
Your father’s words made you laugh through your tears and calm down a little. Although you were still terribly swollen with a huge nose from which snot flowed every now and then, thanks to the support of your close person, life no longer seems so spoiled. However, no matter how your dad tried to find out the name, you didn’t tell him anything about Leon.
After a couple of weeks, you were even able to calm down and have fun with friends, but still the image of Kennedy kept popping up in your head, haunting you both in your dreams and in reality, despite all your attempts to distract yourself. He never left you a single message, thereby forcing you to draw conclusions.
Your college classes will begin in the fall, so there is not much time left to rest, so you decided to make the most of the rest of the summer, but returning home you clearly hear the sound of cleaning weapons and a painfully familiar voice that raises a wave of anxiety in chest.
"...I swear to God I'll find out who this asshole, Leon." Your heart tries to jump out of your chest when you press your ear to the door of your father’s room where he keeps a gun and other things that are not for your eyes. Leon himself almost doesn’t answer and you honestly don’t even want to face him anymore because the resentment still bites painfully into your throat making your eyes water.
It's not good to eavesdrop, but what could you do with yourself? Part of you hoped that he felt at least some guilt for treating you so badly.
“He’s such an asshole...” Leon says quietly in an unnatural voice. "Definitely deserved the bullet"
Maybe he didn't deserve a bullet after all, your heart is not so cruel as to wish him dead, but you could slap him in the face, although you don't want to see him at all, so carefully moving away from the door, go upstairs to your room and lock yourself in it again hoping that Leon will leave before you get hungry. It took about two hours before stomach growled for food. A bar of chocolate in purse briefly saved the situation, which caused an almost opera orchestra of an empty stomach to resound throughout the room. As luck would have it, a delicious aroma came from the kitchen from below, from which wings almost literally grew behind your back and you flew down to try this freshly baked pasta. Your mom called you to the table a couple of times, but it looks like Leon didn't go anywhere, once again staying at dinner with your family, and how the hell did he end up in the same room with him?!
But you can't tell them that Leon is the guy who dumped you after the first sex.
Therefore, it went downstairs and met his guilty gaze. You didn't say a word to each other at dinner, although Leon asked neutral questions like are you okay? It's a shitty question, actually, and your want to throw this plate at his head so Leon's answer is a simple nod.
Your parents are sure it's about the boy who broke their daughter's heart, but they don't know that this "boy" is right in front of them. That makes Leon even more sick of himself, but what happened was clearly a mistake.
He had no right to drag a young girl into his bed, he had no right to touch you at all, and yet the vicious feeling turned out to be stronger than the mind. And yet Leon thinks you can easily overcome your first crush, because no matter how you look at it, this relationship is hopeless. He will not be able to marry you, will not create a family and the people around him will always condemn and most of their sidelong glances will be directed at you. Damn, your dad took out a loan so you could go to the college of your dreams and fall in love with someone like him, the worst possible idea.
"She'll find a better boyfriend in college," Leon said to your father that afternoon. Although he wanted to bite his tongue, because he didn't want to give you to some brat at all, but his mind kept saying that it would be the right thing to do. You deserve a quiet life, and everyone Leon gets attached to sooner or later leaves. Therefore, this time he decided to leave first. And yet he really acted no better than any jerk when he ignored you and your messages.
Dinner passed in tense silence. Your appetite disappeared and a piece wouldn’t go down your throat, which is why you offered to help your mom put the leftover food into the refrigerator, at the same time running away from Leon because tears were running down your cheeks by themselves. Standing in the kitchen, washing the dirty dishes, you were drowned in your thoughts, realizing that you were again sliding into the deep bottom of self-torture, because of this you did not hear the steps behind you, shuddering in surprise when Leon’s hands carefully placed them on your waist.
"Forgive me" It seems that he himself does not know how to choose the right words, but takes his hands away from you, looking around so that your parents do not hear this conversation "I know I acted like an asshole, but it's not going to work. It's wrong, God, you're old enough to be my daughter, and I don't know what I was thinking when I was doing this with you.
You're silent, turning away from him, continuing to wash the poor plate, and Leon is ready to swear that your silence is a hundred times worse than if you were yelling at him.
"You're so young, good, please... Sweetie, I didn't mean to offend you. Trust me, this was never part of my plans, and when your father told me how you cried all night long... It will pass. You'll find yourself a good guy of the same age, well, maybe he'll be a little older than you by two years or maybe three, well, certainly not more than fifteen years."
You are silent again, putting down a clean plate and starting on another one, standing with your back to him.
"This is the first love... And I gave up on myself. You're a wonderful girl..."
"Is it my age?" You rudely interrupt him: "Am I not experienced enough or am I just disgusting to you?"
Finally you turn around turning off the water with your arms crossed over your chest. But God no, that's not what he meant! If he had his way... if it's not the damn framework that Leon mostly pushes himself into, then he won't admit to himself, but he wants there to be no more men in your life besides him. In an intimate way.
"No, God, no, your inexperience has nothing to do with it at all!" he says and immediately tries to take a deep breath, looking around seeing the shadows of your parents, realizing that he chose the wrong place and time to clarify the relationship. "I mean, I can't give you what you want. Honey, at my age, I can seduce a young girl only with my unlimited account card, but you... You need attention, love and care. You see how often your father is away from home and I'm there even less often. Besides, you still don't understand that it won't lead to anything, it's falling in love, butterflies in your stomach, what else is there... euphoria? Please don't think that the world has come together like a wedge on me. Believe me, I'm the most lame option."
"Is it still about age?" Through a lump in your throat, you said softly, "Not old enough for you? "
"I'm too old for you"
It sounded like a sledgehammer had fallen on your head. You let out a shuddering sigh, turning away from him again, because in fact, in your opinion, there is nothing wrong with this relationship. You are not a teenager, some of your age may even have children, and sometimes such a thought has slipped through your mind. Only after graduation, not before. Leon claims that it's just falling in love, but it feels like he's trying to convince himself of this and yet it's very difficult for you to say anything to him right now. The moment is really unfortunate.
“It’s not fair” you turned away, not knowing what else to say to him.
In essence, his argument sounded like a stupid excuse to get rid of an annoying fan while remaining noble. The aftertaste of his words nevertheless remains disgusting.
Of course, you won’t complain to daddy, but your soul was becoming more and more lousy as it seemed that this was the same love that was breaking to the core. It’s as if all the bright colors have disappeared from life, leaving only shades of black and gray without a single hint of joy. Perhaps in a few years this will be perceived as stupidity, but what matters is how you feel now. And this is a piercing, gut-wrenching pain. For several months he flirted, cared, made it clear that this was not a game and that everything was serious for him, but the truth turned out to be too cruel.
Your mother comes in exactly at the moment when you can barely restrain yourself from bursting into tears again at the top of your voice, and she perfectly sees this expression on your face. And it’s obvious that you give up, running to your room, leaving the dishes unwashed, so that you can lock yourself in the room again and not leave there for days on end.
Everyone has their own truth. Leon thought that he escaped with less bloodshed and that you were prudent enough not to make stupid mistakes. Because of his actions, many people have already died and if he finds out that you did something to yourself...
Fortunately, your father just thinks that Leon has found the wrong words of comfort, and this is the reason for lying in bed all day because of your lack of desire to do anything at all right now. When your brain becomes a little clearer after several cycles of sleep alternating with insomnia, it eventually requires you to shift your attention to something other than Leon. In fact, the idea of watching The Lord of the Rings is not the worst, although your father was worried that you would withdraw into yourself again after seeing Aragorn and Arwen break up, involuntarily comparing them to yourself, but nothing terrible happened. You just watched TV, even sometimes smiled at some moments, and then fell asleep, and no one dared to disturb your already light sleep.
“Leon shouldn’t have opened this wound. I shouldn’t have asked him to talk to you.”
Your father confessed in the end, feeling guilty for your next relapse of tears. You sigh and at some point you even want to confess everything to him, clutching the corner of the blanket while you and dad watch the movie together, but you change your mind.
It's probably better not to know the whole truth, because if it comes out, then Armageddon will be.
But maybe Leon is right and this is just falling in love, which you just need to get over, despite the fact that it’s not easy.
Kennedy also disappeared from everyone's radar, appearing only at work. However, he still couldn’t concentrate on reports and training; instead of important thoughts, only you and your tear-stained eyes were spinning in his head. He wanted to console you, to tell you that he was wrong, although he told himself the opposite. The decision that he made, Leon considered truly true and correct, but for some reason everything inside him spoke of the opposite, so the only way to feel sorry for himself, he chose alcohol.
It was like a slow death. Being away from a loved one without being able to even touch. Why not agony? every burning sip of alcohol drew your face in front of his eyes and the desire to get lost with you in the world so that both would never be found was something painfully new for Leon.
He will burn in the fire, but you will remain the peak that he cannot reach. Like a fucking drug that he became addicted to and the pain of withdrawal seems to be many times stronger than the one when Ada left him. He desperately needs to get back to you, to his beloved girlfriend, and just be there for you. But it's so wrong. He didn't give a damn about sex… The hated job sucks all the life juices out of him, so the only thing he wants to do after returning home is to get into a hot shower, washing away blood, dirt and guts. He would have taught you everything, explored boundaries together, guided you… It's not such a big problem, considering how attracted you are to him, and not only in an erotic way. Leon just wants to fall asleep with you, hugging you to him. Listening to the chatter and making these stupid jokes that annoy everyone, but at least you were smiling.
Without you, he's drowning in this sea again.
Let this world be so cruel, but it continues to love you with all its soul, therefore it is ready to sacrifice everything without regret and protect you to the end. Every moment with you was colorful, but with his decision, Leon brought everything back to normal, afraid to be happy. At least Chris said something like that to him when she saw that he was drowning himself in alcohol again. These words made Leon curl his lips in an almost malicious smile, snarling because Redfield didn't know how old you were. If he confessed, he would get something like, "Well, it's just lust." Maybe even reminded him of Ada Wong and how Leon was ready to shoot to save this woman.
But life was filled with meaning only when he was with you and not with Ada. He no longer needs a senseless race after each other when he finally managed to bite into a piece of that life where he is loved and expected.
"I have no future with her, Redfield!" he barked, pouring more whiskey into a glass. "My little American dream of a pretty wife, two children and a white picket fence will not come true."
In fact, Leon would be glad to have you alone in his life. He wants too much, although what is available to ordinary people, Leon is fully aware that he has long lost the right to have it. Your father was not afraid to start a family and you, he loves to talk about what pranks you did in childhood and how you sometimes scared your parents by doing something stupid. The usual parental care. Leon thinks that if he were an officer in Raccoon City, as he dreamed, then now he would also be chatting with some cop about what his children are doing.
Eventually, the sand castle built in the head collapsed immediately.
Where is HIS happy "together and forever"? Obviously in another universe, because in this one he still understands that an old jerk with an alcohol problem and an endless sense of guilt clearly shouldn't bother a young girl without experience.
In fact, he's not such a scumbag as to ruin your life. It's better to be a bad experience than an asshole partner who is also never around.
But you're still as beautiful as the day he met you. However, now you keep your distance from each other, which makes the pain of parting remind you how difficult it is without him. Naively, you drew a too unrealistic picture in your head about this relationship and for some reason you still believe in it, hoping for a fairy tale with a happy ending. From that, you constantly look at Leon with a long piercing look that is literally soaked with a plea to take you back.
You could shout, "Look, I'm aware of my choice! And that's you," but sometimes I wondered if he needed you.
After all, Leon deliberately tore up the little that you recreated with him, preferring to go his own way through life alone.
He doesn't talk to you and has kept communication with your father to a minimum due to the inability to look him in the eye. In fact, Leon really wants to get some kind of punishment for what he did to you, for being so dirty and dishonest, and yet like a puppy, he almost whines wishing that it was you who loved him. Maybe there would be another woman who could heal his mental wounds and the question of age would not be so acute, but Leon does not let anyone get too close to him. Sometimes Ada still comes and he honestly tries to find solace in her, sometimes it even works, but his medicine for longing has too short an effect and a new dose is too difficult to find…
Although he knows where you live, what position you like to sleep in, what kind of music you listen to and all that…
On very difficult days, the hand reaches out to read those sent messages. Flipping through the correspondence in the chat, going back to the very beginning when there was no question of any relationship, when you still just considered him just a colleague of your father but already sent something funny, which made a smile appear on his face by itself.
You haven't written to him for about two months, although the impulses to start scribbling message after message still do not leave, but if before it was a cry of the soul for the way he treated you, now you are ready to literally beg him to give you a chance. Yes, you're young, you're still studying, but you don't demand marriage and children from him right away. And besides, you already have all the rights to make decisions for yourself, even if sometimes they are thoughtless and you still need parental help because of your age. But everything comes with age, right? No one starts walking right after birth and you think you have the right to make mistakes and learn from them, so if Leon turns out to be one of them, then you will face the consequences yourself.
You wanted to write something like this to him, but you constantly deleted the printed lines and wrote again, unable to find the strength to send it to him.
Courage came and went at the most inopportune moment, giving way to doubt and low self-esteem. And yet it was he who kissed you first in the barn, gave you expensive gifts and courted you like a man and not like a brat. Seriously, you don't even pay attention to guys your age, focusing only on one man who was killing his liver and psyche. Of course, there is a high probability that in five years or so you will want to go back in time and hit yourself on the head, but nevertheless it will be later. Only in the possible future, but for now, slowly walking through the wet streets of the city under an umbrella, you slowly wander to a familiar apartment, trying to keep your courage in your fists and not let it escape. It gets too wet on the streets, and it's cool, which makes your palms get cold, but still, gathering your courage, you knock on the door of an apartment in the city center.
The knocking is too quiet, so you try to knock a little louder, but as soon as your palm hovers over the door, Leon's face immediately appears in front of you, forcing all the rehearsed words to disappear from your head.
It seems at first he can't believe his eyes. You are standing in front of him, in a cute raincoat, with an umbrella in your hands, whose hand you are nervously pulling and your hair is a little wet - reality and not his drunken imagination, although for a couple of seconds Leon still thinks that this is his drunken delirium.
"Um…Sorry for being uninvited… I just wanted…To talk?" almost stuttering, you say, looking into his blue eyes that seem a little drunk, "Will you let me in?"
He sighs and you wait with bated breath for the verdict, hoping that you don't look like a fool in front of him. It takes maybe ten seconds before Leon nods, stepping back and you enter his apartment with small steps, standing on the threshold, still nervously but holding on to your umbrella more tightly, scratching the handle with your thumb nail in excitement.
Maybe he's just overworked, but there's an unfinished bottle of alcohol on the table and Leon himself seems disheveled, but still he holds out his hand to you and you look at him in amazement, not realizing that he just offers to take your umbrella and raincoat to dry them a little. Slow reaction is normal for ordinary people and Leon never condemns you for this, in fact, he's not even angry, deep down he's probably even glad that you appeared briefly in his life again, however…
"Something happened?" He asks in a tired tone, although he can see from your body language how tense you are, hoping that you don't have any very serious problems, why are you so worried "Do you have problems or…"
At that moment, you realize that the conversation you are about to have will be long and emotionally difficult.
As the saying goes, "Fortune favors the bold " even if your legs are shaking with fear, then at least you will try to solve this dilemma with him.
216 notes · View notes