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pupyuj · 10 days

Text

→ “long overdue.” || kim jiwon (liz) x reader.

— jiwon reunites with you, her old fling, at her brother’s bachelor party and with the sparks still in the air, you don’t waste any time to get familiar with her once more…

word count: 5.2k.

dynamic: dom!bottom!liz x sub!top!reader.

warnings: age gap (it's not much!), unnie kink, fwb to lovers, nipple play, oral fixation, cunnilingus, fingering, thigh riding, orgasm denial, edging.

a/n: FINALLY! a jiwon fic from moi 😭😭 this was supposed to be posted earlier on valentine's day but alas 💀 i really do wish i could've dropped something for feb 14th but back then i was bitter, lonely, sad, and angry so trying to write something cute and lovey-dovey was just not ideal LMAO but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this fic 💚 only one more member and i will have officially written a fic for each of the ive unnies! WE CAN DO IT!! 😤✨ also i'm pretty sure i'm missing some warnings/tags but i'm too sleepy to remember them so...

jiwon doesn’t know why she agreed to chaperone her grown brother to his stupid bachelor party. as far as she knew, it was a boy thing. according to her brother, however, she was an exception and so, jiwon finds herself seated at the farthest corner of the bar in what might be the most expensive nightclub she has ever set foot in. she hasn’t even downed her first drink yet—she merely made a tiny tornado with the small umbrella while keeping an eye on her little brother and his ridiculous group of friends.

some of them were familiar to her, some weren’t. and some have repeatedly asked for her number in the past two and a half hours they’ve been in the place. it was after the eleventh time it happened that jiwon decided to go on her lonesome and sat on that one corner of the bar, silently waiting for the little party to end so she could get her nice, long and certainly well-deserved, sleep. jiwon really wished that she came up with some boring excuse to avoid this event. unfortunately, she couldn’t say no to her brother who was so kind to include her!

perhaps he knew that jiwon needed to look at something that wasn’t the view from the big windows of that fancy condominium where she lives. on top of all that, jiwon has been working harder than usual. but that’s only because she quite literally has nothing else to do in her life. all of her friends were busy, she was busy, and it’s not like she can just hit up her coworkers for a quick drink after work when she barely knew them. in hindsight, jiwon sort of needed this!

jiwon raises her glass to her lips, but stops midway when something curious catches her attention. a girl, a bit younger than jiwon herself, confidently marches up towards her brother and does a very familiar handshake with him before hugging him tightly. jiwon watches as the girl and her brother chat a bit. they exchanged a few jokes here and there, the girl hands him a small bag (a gift to his soon-to-be wife, possibly), then her brother whispers in the girl’s ear as he exchanges glances with jiwon, and suddenly both of them were looking at her from across the nightclub.

jiwon nearly drops her glass when she sees the girl’s face clearly. it was you—(y/n) (l/n), her brother’s former roommate and best friend all throughout college! jiwon has met you before! back when her life was a goddamn mess and her entire family thought that you were her brother’s girlfriend. but then it turns out you were more like… his sister from a different family and so that was when you and jiwon started getting to know each other.

perhaps you got to know each other a bit too well… because jiwon remembers all those times when the two of you would hang out in her room for hours and f—

“jiwon-unnie!”

the blonde haired girl springs up from her seat and waved as you squeezed through multiple crowds of people until you got to her. wow, you were beautiful. taller, older, and obviously so much prettier than the last time jiwon saw you.

which was in between her le—

“i missed you so much!” you engulfed jiwon in a crushing bear-hug which she awkwardly returned. “oh wow, unnie, you’re gorgeous! blonde fits you so well.” you were saying as you pulled away, taking in all of jiwon’s features and even threading her soft hair from behind. jiwon got goosebumps under your touch—how the fuck was she supposed to act normal in this situation?

“i am so glad you’re here because as much as i love him, i’m not as much of a boys girl anymore.” you pulled jiwon back to her seat, taking the empty one right beside hers and immediately telling the bartender about your favorite drink. jiwon finds herself completely speechless. literally. you were vibrant, you were chatty, you were so charming—everything jiwon remembers that you were all those years ago.

“mmm. never gets old.” you said after taking the first sip of your drink. you then turned to jiwon who flinched upon making eye contact with you. “what have you been doing these days, unnie? i know you’re like, some kind of big deal at this rich-people company you work for but you know… what else?” you eyed jiwon up and down before smiling at her. not even the darkness and the nearly seizure-inducing lights of the nightclub could hide that familiar glint in your eyes, but jiwon chose to ignore them.

she couldn’t help but glance at how your skirt is hiked up after you’ve put one leg over the other though.

“um, i haven’t been doing much, really. just… work and making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” jiwon said, nodding her head to her brother who was pretty buzzed at this time.

you laughed, “you guys never really changed, huh? glad to see it.” you took another sip of your drink.

“only this time i’m helping him with his road to being a husband instead of a project due in thirty minutes.” jiwon shakes her head at the memory, and she likes the way it makes you smile brightly.

“right… and are you still with wonyoung-ssi?” you asked with caution. yet you stared at jiwon as you did so, making sure she sees your ulterior motive through your eyes. jiwon feels herself crumbling under the weight of your stare, as much as she tries to put up a fight of her own.

“no… no, that’s been over for a while now.” it was a good breakup. one that ended with laughter rather than tears and anger. jiwon still talks with wonyoung to this day. why, only a week ago, wonyoung had called jiwon about her brother’s wedding! she expressed her regret about not being able to attend it due to scheduling conflicts—the life of an acclaimed supermodel was busy after all!

you looked significantly happier with the news, now gulping down your drink with a smile on your face. “h-how about you? he never told me what you did after you guys graduated…” jiwon attempts to have some control of the situation—sitting up straight, staring back at you with the same intensity, and all. was she successful? no. jiwon’s blushes as you held your stare with hers, an amused smirk now on your lips before you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

shiiit, jiwon remembers how perfect your neck looks while covered with marks left by her… oh gods, what is wrong with her?!

“well, after college, i did try getting my career started… but that didn’t work out. i ended up going back to my hometown to get back in touch with my heart and all that sentimental bullshit, and it actually worked,” you giggled, your hand brushing across your hair. “i know what i want to do in my life, but for now, i’m just…” you trailed off, raising your drink as well as quirking your eyebrow. “having fun before i can’t.” now your glass is finally empty.

“that’s good. and i’m glad the two of you are still friends. i was worried you’d grow apart.” it always made jiwon smile when she came home after a rough day at her old job and seeing you and her brother in the house, chatting and fooling around as if you weren’t burdened by all your commitments and responsibilities. it had always been refreshing seeing you, and it still is.

you propped your elbow on the table and put your chin on your palm, flashing jiwon a teasing smile, “did you miss me, unnie?”

and just like that, every ounce of confidence jiwon built up evaporates into nothing. she laughs awkwardly, hiding behind her drink, “o-of course! it was weird not seeing you guys together all the time, you know!” another awkward laugh. jiwon felt ridiculous and childish.

“no, unnie,” you moved closer, putting your hand on jiwon’s arm. she turned her head to look at you again and there you were, staring at her with clouded eyes. you then leaned closer and put your other arm behind her, your lips ghosting above her ear. shitshitshit, that’s too close. “did you miss me?”

what happened moments later isn’t exactly what jiwon would say was… a mistake. hell, it was far from it.

being trapped between the door of your hotel room and yourself while getting her neck marked up and her clothes slowly stripped down is the most eventful jiwon’s night has been.

jiwon could feel her brother’s worry all the way from here… well, it’s mainly because she knew that all the buzzing that her phone was doing in her pocket was because of him mass texting her about her whereabouts. she couldn’t be bothered to text him back right now though, not when you were already trailing your hand up her thigh and sliding it underneath her skirt. this felt familiar, and it felt good. feeling you gently rub her wet cunt through her panties felt good, feeling you softly biting on her collarbone felt good, seeing those cute eyes of yours asking for permission while you tugged on her panties felt good.

how long has it been since jiwon felt this kind of rush in her life? too long, she’d say. so why not make the most out of it?

jiwon cups your cheeks and crashes her lips into yours for the first time that night. your lips tasted like blueberries (from whatever you were drinking earlier), and jiwon loved the way you kissed her rather clumsily as if you didn’t expect her to do it first. jiwon couldn’t get enough. she pushes you further inside the room, discarding you of your jacket while doing so. she sits you down on the edge of the bed before separating from your lips and suddenly walking off, leaving you confused and slightly light-headed.

turns out, jiwon only went away to turn the lampshade on, illuminating the room with a warm orange glow before going back to you. she stared you down with hooded eyes, lust replacing the kind look in her irises that you knew and loved, and then she gently grabs your jaw, tilting your head up. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to soothe that ache in your core. god, you missed her.

“make this worth it, (y/n).” jiwon says coldly. even jiwon herself was surprised at her tone, but something in her brain liked how you crumbled under her stare. compared to the timid, nervous jiwon from earlier, bossy and demanding and… kind of harsh jiwon just did something right to you.

“you’ve always been worth it.” you pulled jiwon towards you by her hips, making her sit down on your lap. you feel her brushing your hair with her fingers, allowing you to release the tension on your shoulders and just melt into her. you’ve missed her warmth, and she’s missed yours. jiwon didn’t understand why you left when you did… but that was a question you were going to answer for her later.

much, much later.

jiwon moans softly as you start kissing her neck. your hands get busy with the remaining buttons on her shirt, revealing more of her skin for you to mark up throughout the night. you’ve already left some earlier, and they were starting to show across her chest but that wasn’t enough. you slowly pull off her shirt and let it drop to the ground, then your hands travel lower on jiwon’s body, stopping at the waistband of her skirt.

you were eager to touch her—unzipping her skirt and whining to get her to stand up and let it fall at her feet before you pulled her back into you. jiwon couldn’t help but laugh while you kissed her hungrily, and then she giggled even more when you rolled around and made her lay on her back on the bed.

you pouted cutely as you observed her and her baby pink lingerie, “hmm… were you expecting to sleep with someone in that club, unnie? you looked prepared.”

jiwon thought it was the perfect time to tease such a normally confident girl like you. so she nodded with a shit-eating grin, “the lady bartender was cute actually.” she laughs when you suddenly hop off of her abdomen, choosing to sit on the side of the bed instead. you were taking off your shoes, setting them aside before starting to discard yourself of your jewelry and putting them on the bedside table. jiwon watches you intently, her desire for you only growing by the second.

“come on, get in here already.” jiwon tugged on your sleeve, more than ready to feel your lips on her skin once again. she decided to sit up and help you with your dress though, reaching for the zipper and slowly pulling it down. she didn’t waste the opportunity to leave kisses on the back of your neck, all the way down to the middle of your back, making sure that her lipstick sticks on your skin and smiling satisfied once she sees that it did.

finally, jiwon could see all of you after all these years, and you were just as beautiful as the last time she saw you. jiwon couldn’t resist immediately grabbing your face and kissing you as you climbed into the bed—she longed to feel your skin against hers again and now that you were here, she doesn’t think she ever wants to let you go like she did back then. so, jiwon holds onto you tightly, letting you settle yourself on top of her once again while your hands impatiently explore her perfect body. your hands reach behind jiwon, unclasping her bra and throwing it aside, your hands quickly finding themselves busy fondling her soft breasts.

it was cute to see that you still adored her tits as much as you did back then. you did that thing you always did when you were intimate with jiwon, kissing all over her chest, making sure to cover every inch of skin while still massaging her tits. jiwon caresses your hair as you did your job, laughing softly in an adoring way, her smile only widening when you look up at her with your own grin.

“you’re so pretty, jiwon-unnie.” you gave the older girl one last quick kiss on the lips before leaning down and taking her nipple in your mouth. jiwon gasps at the feeling of your warm tongue slowly swirling around her nipple. it was familiar, like all of the other things you’ve done to her so far, but it also felt new at the same time. because this time, the two of you were much older, and you were doing this purely out of your true feelings for each other rather than a decision made on a whim. jiwon moans loudly when you softly and carefully bite on the hard bud, but she was quick to regain composure when she notices something quite… well, interesting.

jiwon sees how you humped the mattress slightly, trying your best to soothe that buzzing in your core on your own. jiwon decides to swiftly slide her thigh in between your legs and press it against your wet cunt, feeling all satisfied when you whine and start slowly grinding on her thigh for further stimulation. your hand that was pinching her other nipple was now gripping the sheets as you started riding jiwon’s thigh faster, whining even more as you feverishly sucked and nipped on her tit. jiwon grins, loving how she hasn’t lost her special little talent of reducing you to her obedient pet. she starts meeting your little thrusts by raising her thigh—somehow, the sight of you like this had her soaked, but you haven’t noticed at all. you were too busy trying to get yourself off!

you had to let go of jiwon’s nipple eventually, now hugging her close and whining at her chest because you were feeling so good. you’ve started shaking and your moans were shorter and higher—it only meant one thing! jiwon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your face up to make you look at her, ignoring how you winced at the pain.

“don’t cum.” she says strictly, her grip on your hair tightening by the second the more you thrust into her thigh.

“b-but..! hnng.. i’m s-so close…! so close…” the pout, the tears, that desperate tone in your voice… jiwon almost wanted to fold, but she wasn’t in the mood for that.

“you don’t get to cum before me ever, remember? be good.”

as much as it upset you, you slowly decreased your pace until you were merely sitting on her thigh. jiwon smiles—she was happy to know that she still had some sort of hold over you. she knew she always did! why, you were always clingy towards jiwon whenever her brother invited you over, and that was even before the two of you started sleeping with each other. she always used it to her advantage, mostly in bed, of course. something else jiwon always liked: that pitiful look on your cute face when she denies you of your release. you’d always look so timid after, afraid that if you spoke incorrectly, jiwon might stop the whole thing entirely.

but jiwon was never that cruel. she’d tease you, sure, but she would always make sure to give you what you want. just as long as she gets hers first.

“look,” you watched as jiwon’s hand traveled down from her stomach to her panties. she was drenched; your fault. “do something.” she demands. shit. the dark tone in her voice and the stern look on her face was enough to get you to move lower. you pulled off jiwon’s panties, your heart beating so fast for no goddamn reason. it has been a very long time since you have seen jiwon, let alone like this. acting like this, looking at you like this. it’s got you weak.

you stared at jiwon’s pussy. soaked, tight, perfect, and most importantly, all for you.

“how cute. you’re practically drooling.” jiwon impatiently puts her hand atop your head and brings your face closer to her needy cunt. you hoisted her legs over your shoulder, then you started leaving kisses along her inner thighs—deep and sensual kisses, slow and careful right up until your lips barely ghosted above her pussy. jiwon stares at you with anticipation, you stare back at her; your eyes now dark and hungry. you keep eye contact as you licked up her cunt once, smirking while you felt jiwon’s entire body shiver at the feeling. she pushes your head a little closer, so fucking desperate that you almost wanted to be petty and tease her, but she would probably hit you for that.

and so, you give her what she wants. within seconds of your lips touching her cunt once more, you were practically making out with it. goosebumps appeared along your skin as your tongue slowly got familiar with jiwon’s taste again. it felt right, like the stars have finally realigned themselves after years of floating about the expansive universe, lost. you put your hands to use, spreading her lips apart and pleasuring her clit.

“g-good…! there… mmhn.. (y/n)-ah…!” jiwon grabs a fistful of your hair again, pushing you impossibly closer to her cunt, practically grinding it against your face. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, sucking softly and moaning at jiwon’s sheer taste. fuck, it was all too good. you use one hand to grip one of her thighs, sinking your nails down to her skin, and spreading it further so you could have room.

“fuck..! i want to cum, (y/n)… m-more, more..! please…” jiwon’s back arches right as you flick the sensitive bud. you slipped your tongue inside her cunt, making jiwon moan just a tad bit louder than the hotel room walls would recommend her to. the next rooms most likely heard that—good. everyone needs to know how amazing you make her feel. how you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. and everyone’s going to know it again; you used your free hand to rub jiwon’s clit since your tongue was too busy inside her.

normally, this would’ve made jiwon cum. but she was strong this time around. “fucking—god, (y/n)…! more.. more…” jiwon pleads while on the verge of tears. you free her thigh of your grip and hold her hand instead, at least it helped her ground herself at least. the more you used your tongue inside her, the more you felt her clench. her grip gets tighter, both on your hand and on your hair. you briefly glanced upwards and saw her closing her eyes shut—she was close. but you found yourself being torn between letting her reach her climax now, stall a bit longer, or… make her orgasm just a lot stronger.

you pulled out your tongue from her cunt. jiwon hisses and nearly hits you on the head for slowing down and going back to sucking on her clit as you previously did. she glared at you, but was immediately back to being at your mercy when you unexpectedly inserted two of your fingers inside her. god, she was still tight. you stared in awe as you fucked jiwon in an excrutiatingly slow pace, merely watching as her pussy clenches around your digits. you pushed further, now knuckle-deep inside jiwon. you could cum from the sensation of her spongy walls brushing against your fingertips alone but you had to keep her rule in mind.

“m-mouth… use your mouth, (y/n).. ah!” and happily you did! your mouth and fingers worked in unison on jiwon’s pussy—every time you pulled out, you’d suck and lick her clit, the routine now going back to you. you’re remembering all the things she liked done to her, even down to the tiniest details. like eye contact. your eyes fluttered open, peering at jiwon through your fringe. she was already staring at you, her face contorted to show much pleasure you were bringing to her. jiwon has never once tried to conceal her noises and she wasn’t going to ask you to slow down or anything either. you both needed this, and unfortunately for this entire damn hotel, they were going to know just how much.

jiwon loosens her grip on your head once she realizes just how tight she was holding it, now threading your hair and only gently nudging you closer whenever she thinks your mouth isn’t doing enough. you curled your fingers inside her, making her tense up once more and bring her to that familiar edge. “please, please, please…!” jiwon whispers desperately like a prayer with a single tear running down her cheek. you increased your pace and buried your face in her cunt, not caring about making a mess of your face. all you cared about was satisfying your jiwon-unnie, and that you were successful when you brought her to a mind-blanking orgasm with a single flick of your tongue.

a long moan escapes jiwon’s lips as you continue to eat her out through her climax. god, she was delectable. you were determined to not waste a single drop of her cum, lapping her up like a dog and once more relishing at the taste of her juices on your tongue. you pull out your fingers as well, making sure jiwon sees you sucking on it to show her just how much you enjoy how she tastes. jiwon was beyond flustered and she was feeling all sorts of things—overwhelmed, weak, and perhaps most importantly of all, so fucking desperate to make you feel just as good.

you don’t hear her at first. jiwon was speaking in a small voice since she was still weak from everything you did, but you do hear her later on. “come here, baby,” the nickname practically sends you scurrying over on top of her again. jiwon wipes your chin clean with her hand, smiling brightly at you as she pulls you in for a sweet kiss. she can taste herself on your lips and your tongue, and a part of her understands why you’re so addicted. “unnie’s turn, hm?” she whispers against your lips… but her kisses have sent your brain elsewhere, hence your surprised gasp when you felt her gently rub your clit through your panties.

“hah… you’re still super sensitive here?” jiwon asked.

“t-that’s my clit, unnie.. of course, i’m—ahh—sensitive there…” cheeky. even when you’re the one at her mercy now. you pulled your panties off, throwing over to the pile of clothes on the carpeted floor. jiwon was teasing you: tracing your lips with her fingers, barely letting her fingertips touch your entrance, and not even giving your clit the attention it needs now. you whine as you grind down on jiwon’s hand, desperate for more contact but she refuses to touch you.

“aww, what’s with that face?” jiwon coos, laughing slightly. you had a mix of desperation and irritation on your face. it was annoying how she was being annoying, especially at such a crucial time but you knew the exact thing you had to do to get her going.

“unnie. please. i need you…” you pleaded. jiwon leans back on the pillow behind her, finding it so amusing to watch you slowly lose every ounce of self-respect just so you can cum. fuck, if jiwon wanted to be cruel, she could! she could make you beg all night, see those pretty eyes of yours shine with tears as you cry… the sick part of jiwon really wanted it all to come true, but she’s missed you too much to prolong this any further. and so, she pushes your face closer to her by the back of your neck, kissing you passionately just to get you to calm down.

one word jiwon would use to describe how she felt for the events that followed? relieving.

it was relieving to feel your warmth around the three fingers she inserted in your pussy at once, to feel your tongue inside her mouth, to bleed slightly from the way you held onto her arms so tightly, and it was most relieving to hear you say her name so sweetly. you can have such a dirty mouth with so many vulgar words to say, especially from years before when you were younger, but whenever you were with jiwon, you were a different person. jiwon was one of the only people who you allowed to see you like this: soft, weak, and so endearing. it seems like you haven’t changed that aspect about you, and that fact within itself was relieving to jiwon.

“unnie…!” you buried your head on the crook of jiwon’s neck as you felt every inch of her fingers brush against all of your sweet spots. as expected, things were always different when it came to jiwon. being so vulnerable to other people terrified you to the point where it was almost impossible to let your heart open to them, but jiwon made it so simple. but now that you were right here, looking at jiwon and feeling her everywhere, maybe it wasn’t just simply her that made it possible for you to let yourself fall.

wait… fall?

yes. fall. all this time—you’ve fallen for jiwon but too many things made it complicated for you to fully embrace it. but now you are ready.

“i’m so happy, (y/n),” jiwon’s voice felt like a dream. you almost couldn’t hear her properly due to how much her fingers overwhelmed you. the older girl used her free hand to lift your chin, making you look at her, before kissing your lips—it has always been her favorite thing to do. “i’m so happy you came back to me. i don’t know how to express how much i missed you… surely not with words, not even with this…” jiwon plunges her fingers deep, shushing you while you moan loudly. god, she knew you too well. knew which spot to hit to get you to lose your mind, knew the exact words to whisper in your ear when she notices you were slipping away from reality, and knew exactly how to make your heart beat like it never has before.

jiwon pulls her index finger out, now fucking you faster than she ever has with the only fingers she has inside you. “good girl. god, baby… you’re getting me wet again.” jiwon locks one of her legs around yours, keeping you in place. her palm slams against your sensitive clit, bringing tears to your eyes even though you grinded on her hand desperately to feel it over and over again. part of the reason why jiwon always needed to be the one to be fucked first is because you get so tired after your turn that you just pass out, and you never got out of that habit it seems. jiwon sees how the light was escaping your eyes, it was only a matter of time before you were too exhausted to keep yourself awake.

“hm, we have to be careful, huh? can you handle it, love?”

you nodded frantically, afraid that she’d slow down had you answered otherwise, “y-yes..! ahh, yes, i can. i can, unnie.. i can—mmhn..! i can take it…” you started moving your hips, riding jiwon’s fingers just to get closer and closer for that climax you’ve been chasing after the entire night. jiwon was thoroughly amused at how determined you were. normally, you’d give up or tap out if you found it all too much, but jiwon knows you want to be good for her. especially after all this time.

“you’re so cute… but don’t worry, baby,” jiwon places a sweet, deep kiss on your damp forehead. “we have all the time in the world now.”

a curl of her fingers later and you were cumming on jiwon’s hand. the older girl stopped her movements, afraid of overstimulating you. she whispers sweet words into your ears as you let yourself go, at least that's what you think she’s doing. you could barely keep your eyes open, let alone hear. but despite your consciousness slowly slipping away from you, you still felt jiwon gently lay you down on the spot next to her. she holds you close enough that she is within kissing distance.

she was so perfect—how could you have left her?

“unnie…” you tucked a piece of her behind her ear. her laugh makes your ears tingle. you faintly hear her ask if you’re feeling okay, to which you nodded weakly at. you can see her lips move, she was saying a few things, but you can’t hear her over the sound of your heartbeat. you cup her cheek, lean close, and kiss her. maybe it was your favorite thing to do, just like her. and then, words that have always been expected to be unsaid leave your lips. some feelings that have been kept hidden, secrets that you were afraid of letting slip.

“i love you, jiwon-unnie.”

long overdue, sure. even jiwon felt it before you ever said it to her. but she thinks that your bashful smile, the way you shyly looked away from her, and your precious reaction to her saying it back made it all worth the wait.

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #ive x fem reader #ive scenarios #kim jiwon smut #kim jiwon imagines #kim jiwon x reader #kim jiwon x fem reader #liz x fem reader #liz x reader #liz smut #liz imagines #liz scenarios #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop smut

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

Note

Hi, I'd like to request a spicy one: cockwarming hcs for Lucifer and Solomon (separately pls) Thx<3

Cockwarming with Lucifer and Solomon

here <3

femreader, teasing, begging, overstimulation, rough sex, slight dumbification, I think;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Let's be honest, he's really kinky in bed. So he knows about that before he meets you and has .. can't say "immunity to this", but he definitely experienced in cockwarming and really likes it.

-Mostly prefer to use it like a little foreplay - punishment if you were too bratty in recent days or he just has the right mood to tease you.

-And oh just what kind of emotions he makes you go through while you are sitting on his lap with a long thick cock pushing your walls so deep inside.. From just light embarrassment when you feel as Luci fully thrust into you but instead of usual fast pounding there's nothing, just light twitches of his dick.. To almost humiliation as you mewl in impatience, begging him to finally move as you can't take it anymore, too aroused..

-So yeah, he likes to take his time with you, red deep gaze fixed on your beautiful face as he enjoys every bit of your blushing cheeks and tear-filled eyes, you look so cute with these trembling lips and this tiny silver thread of saliva on your chin.. Did he actually make you feel this good without any actions..?

-"Mm, what's wrong? Did you miss me so much these few days so just the feeling of my cock makes your little pussy so wet..?" - a wave of goosebumps run down your spine as his bitter deep breath tickles your ear. His mouth is so close to your earlobe, you can feel the warmth of his lips, but instead of kissing you here he just bites soft skin, making you whine a little.

-Sometimes it feels like Lucifer's even more playful during cockwarming then during sex itself. It's just so hard not to tease you when all you do is keep sobbing and whining, your hips shaking as you try to squeeze his waist with your thighs, to get a little bit of friction, at least something..

-But uh oh, his arms are too strong and can hold you right in place, so you can't squirm around that much, the only movement you feel is his dick twitching a little inside you, and just touches.

-Oh yes. Just touches. As if Lucifer's hands itself is not enough for you to start trembling even more.

-The way he always starts with light strokes in your shoulders, so gently like if he is actually trying to calm you down from the overwhelming feeling in your pulsing core, but then his arms quickly get down, right to your waist.. Oh and the way he is always grabbing your waist, such possession and hunger in this tight grip as Luci brushes his fingers on your deliciously smooth skin..

-It just adds fuel to the fire, making you shiver and bite your lips as all you can't think about is these strong hands moving on your hips, squeezing soft flesh, so tight that leaving bruises as Luci finally starts pounding in you, fast and aggressive, absolutely wrecking your needy cunt..

-But you will not receive that. At least right now. Because he isn't satisfied yet. He's an avatar of Pride, after all, and the view of your body being so weak after his touches, the awareness of how controlled you are by him now.. This makes his dick throb even more as demon just can't stop but teases you even more.

-"Well if it's actually all you need to be happy then I don't mind.." - such a mocking tone as Lucifer's looking you right in the eyes, grasping your hips so greedy.. - "I'm ready to sit like this for a long time, enjoy that as much as you wish.."

-Oh, and the way your voice sounds now, so thin and weak as you sobbing, asking to stop this and finally give you what you want.. It's music to his ears that he can listen to forever.

-So Luci likes to play not only with your waist or hips, but he absolutely adores playing with your clit while sitting still. No movements inside you but he at least touches you here, why do you complain?

-Softly caressing you here, mocking you for being that needy as your clit is already throbbing and he can feel that with the tip of his finger. You just start clenching around him even more, do you like it? You like it when he almost makes you cum by only stimulating your clit?

-"You squeeze me so tight, darling.. Are you close?" - Lucifer smirks and sped up, pushing your sensitive spot with such rapid pace, you can't help but dig your nails in his shoulders, absolutely out of control. Your pussy trembling so much, sucking his dick deeper inside and it's both so pleasurable, to feel his fingers on your clit, sending you on edge, but at the same time that's still not enough as your cunt still wants some attention too.

-Of course he would tease you about that too. How cute and precious you are, actually cumming before you even start anything.. But it was the last straw for Lucifer, as he was also already so painfully hard, and after you clenched around him that much, wet hot walls clinging to his dick so tight.. He groan, finally gripping your hips and just start fucking you without any warning, without little break as you still need to catch your breath after orgasm..

-But it's even better, as this ache inside your body is finally fading away with every rough thrust of his cock, your mind is so dizzy and nebulous as the single thought in your head is Lucifer and his thick dick pumping you. You can't think straight or even talk, absolutely out of control of your body or voice, moaning loudly, whining and grasping his shoulders.

-And Lucifer loves that, as making you in a trembling overstimulated mess, so dumb and disparetable, his favorite thing.. But don't worry, you don't need to understand what is going on, cause he will take care of you and this wetness between your legs, just be obedient and keep calling his name with that high pitched voice, doll..

-Another tease with big experience right here, rip that pussy fr..

-When he offers you to try this for the first time, he sounds so calm and gentle, so you didn't even think about it that much, as you were sure everything would be easy and nice..

-So you absolutely didn't expect to find yourself out of breath, trembling, your vagina already so wet, pulsing and throbbing after just a few minutes on his laps, when he dick just enters inside you, warming up in the hot walls.

-"We just started, but it seems that you enjoy this so much already.. Don't worry, I will make sure to prolong your pleasure as long as I can.." - Solomon giggles, stroking your thighs. You can hear his breath become heavier as his cock twitches in your walls, enjoying the force of your tight walls, but his face is still so calm and playful.. There's no way he would lose that easily.

-He always says he uses cockwarming just like a little foreplay but honestly due to how long he can sit like that sometimes you think he tries to punish you for being too flirty with one of demon brothers or something.. But you never can really tell as Solomon's face is.. emotional, yes, but you can't read through all this playfulness and teases his actual intentions.

-Solomon is literally pro in arousing you with just a few touches, and the way he kisses you sometimes makes you almost fly away in heavens.. or maybe fall even deeper in hell due to what kind of feeling it makes you feel.

-So of course he would be even more passionate during this time, wanting to warm you up as much as he can, to the point where you are almost jumping on his lap, begging to finally start.

-Deep kisses with tongue as he gropes your breast, squeezing nipples between slim fingers and playing with them. Or Solomon would nuzzle to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickeys on soft skin as his hands grasp your butt, so greedy and hungry, it makes you shiver and squirm a little.

-Instead of holding you absolutely in place he would let you struggle a little, his grip is not that tight so you can move your body a little, feeling slight friction between your and his hips, his dick grinding against your walls just a little and you whine.

-It's honestly even worse than being absolutely controlled and holded, as you can feel just a little bit it's not enough, it just makes you even more needy. And of course Solomon can see that and of how much he actually enjoys your little movements with a small smirk on his face, eyes piercing at your trembling body and blushing face as you keep mewling a little, moving your hips there and there.

-Oh, he's willing to help..! Sighing, as he acts like he needs to make himself more comfortable in bed, his hands holding you more tight now and then Solomon starts moving, just a little, as he is still just trying to find a good position to sit.. But you can feel his dick move inside you too and you can't help but whine, clenching around him more.

-"Is something wrong, s/o..?" - voice so soft and gentle as if his dick didn't push your walls with such force all this time. Looking at his pale blue eyes that become so much darker and sinister during your private time is almost unbearable, as his deep gaze just makes you tingle even more, feeling absolutely under his control and mercy. You never know what is going on inside his head and how long he plans to play like that.

-And he loves that, he can see in these ashamed but lustful eyes of yours that you have no idea what he wants and it's amuse Solomon so much.. You and your precious body are all to his mercy, what he gonna do with you now..?

-Beg a little and he would laugh, teasing how quickly you give up. Did his dick actually feel that good that you already can't hold yourself straight?

-"Shh, darling, you should be more obedient.. Let me enjoy that a little bit more, okay? And then I will reward your needy pussy.." - he kisses your temple and giggle, hearing you small whisper as you keep sobbing like a little puppy, so desperate in your urge to be fucked.. He just can't get enough of this pathetic gaze as you keep beseeching him with your wet eyes, almost crying to be used by him..

-Solomon's soft whisper is almost hypnotizing, as he cooed to you to be a good girl, to listen to him.. You have no idea if he uses some specific magic on you or not but your head is empty now, all you hear is his deep voice and all you see is his naked body so close to your own, and all you can't think about is his cock, so deep inside, almost pressing to your sweet spot but with not enough strength..

-It's just makes you beg even more, you already threw away all your proud as you just want him, but, despite Solomon is actually really like when you call his name with such weak trembling voice, you can ask as much as you wish, he will continue his little games until he would be satisfied and when he would feel that his dick throbbing too much, also wanting some friction now.

-Only then he would start to move, but still in his playful manner - slow, long thrust that makes you moan loudly as you feel tingles rushes to your core. Your pussy start pulsating, waiting for more, but Solomon is still so lazy and sloppy.. it's such delight for him, to be wrapped around your tight walls that keep clenching around him, sucking him deeper, almost like if your cunt was also begging to be fucked roughly.

-"I hope you're prepared, darling.." - he suddenly chuckled, grabbing your waist and holding you close to his chest, his pace finally starting speeding up - "You was begging me to fuck you so bad, so now I will fulfill your wish. Don't worry, I think the whole night would be enough for your greedy pussy.."

-Now he's ready to be more active, makes you arch your back and shakes with such aggressive fast pounding. It almost feels like Solomon would break your little cunt with this force but you don't mind, as it feels just so good after such a long wait.

#obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me #lucifer obey me smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #solomon smut #solomon x mc #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #Solomon x reader smut #lucifer x reader smut

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matchadobo · 5 months

Note

Hello! Is it possible to request Kid X Reader where the Reader is a virgin and Kid is loving and soft with her? I love soft Kid and how you write Kid in general. Thank you!

KIDD; soft and loving kidd

warning/s: nsfw under the cut, afab reader, has sfw (a bit suggestive bUT ONLY A BIT REALLY LIKE 2%) and nsfw hcs, might melt your heart, the red fonts indicate that it is under the previous bullet

SFW

kidd was your first kiss, first love, and first partner

ahh first kiss with kidd, it would be comical. let's just say, kidd would have had ENOUGH of your cuteness and he'd just march in your room while you were doing your hobbies. he would be so fucking red. you asked him if he was drunk and he said yes.

"i'm fucking obsessed with you." he'd say before going on a rant on how pretty your eyes are, how your touch feels like an absolute wildfire, how your smile is too contagious he loses his cool, how your voice is too pleasant to his ears you could talk about total fucking nonsense and he'd still swoon, and how you always look at him with the same love in your eyes

you were so fucking shocked you started crying

he'd just stand there, like a lamp post, while waiting for you to catch your breath and pick up your jaw

"c-can i kiss you? i'll kiss you." kidd waltzed towards you, bending down to your height, lifting your chin and colliding his lips with yours

his lips was soft and tasted sweet, must be lipstick. the rum made it bitter

once he feels you melt into the kiss, he'd smile through it before angling his face on the other side to kiss you better. he figured you didn't know how to kiss 😖

"you go like this, name." he angled his face one more to the other side, puckering up his lips before sucking on your lower lip. "don't freeze like goddamn ice, okay?" he snorted. "move your lips. kiss me. suck it. follow my rhythm." with each phrase, his actions mimicked his words. you were on fucking fire.

it was a pretty long kiss. you soon got the hang of it. once you two pulled away to catch your breath, kidd's heart almost exploded when he saw how swollen your lips are and how flushed your cheeks were. what a fucking darling you are

it would be absurd to think that someone like you would end up with someone like him. a thorn like him with a rose like you

he'd always have a scowl in his face but when he sees you, it loosens up a bit. he turns into a blushing mess at the littles things you do

since he was your first relationship, you were really navigating the boundaries and hows of it. it also took a lot of patience since, well, it was kidd

he wasn't used to having you follow him around all day but he loves it

you weren't used to having him behind you, arms by your side as he caged you. when he feels you up, humming in your ear, and his cologne drives you nuts

he wasn't used to your habits to sit on his lap without warning

you weren't used to have his arm protectively around you at all times

he wasn't used to your kisses on his face, he started getting conscious if he smells good or if his face was clean

you weren't used to having this big bear that clung onto you, keeping your bed warm

he wasn't used to waking up next to you, seeing you with your guard completely down around him

you weren't used to seeing kidd all vulnerable and wasn't scowling, instead letting you witness what he was under all that cold exterior that you warmed up

he wasn't used to feeling all this fuzzy and warm on the inside even if you weren't even here, he constantly yearns for you

you weren't used to dealing with kidd in his snotty attitude, it took a lot to be understanding but kidd also did his best when he saw you struggling. that was a challenge for him too

"come here, bug. gimme a hug."

"got you a new dress, come on i wanna see you wear it."

"you want it? i'll steal it for ya." then he proceeds to use his df to the stores to leave no trace

when kidd was courting you, yes he learned how to court 🥺, he will always bring you tiny flower trinkets. on special days he'd have really intricate jewelery that had flowers or butterflies. he'd earnestly find you and give it to you, insisting that you receive it personally 😖

when you were on your period, he'd tiptoe in taking care of you 🥺. he'd be met by your snappy attitude to which he would usually fight back but would later surrender for your well-being. man, a flower like you taught kidd to surrender 🥰. he'd have chocolate and sweets. if your cramps are really bad, he'll help you fall asleep to numb it away

"here, have some chocolates. snappin' at me would get you nowhere."

"as if i'd be goin' anywhere when you're sleepin'. you're clunging onto me like crazy."

"bought you pads and tampons, quit fuckin' whinin' and just hug me."

when cuddling, he always reaches under your shirt to rub your stomach. his cold hands felt good in your warm tummy. soon enough he'd be reaching over your mounds or somewhere down there 👀

when he kisses you he always wants to have a long, deep kiss before pulling away. he'd wanna have a goodbye forehead kiss when you two part ways and went on back to what you were both doing individually

kidd would LOVE and NEED to spoil you. making you trinkets, buying you stuff, and doing things with you even if he puts on a facade that he doesn't wanna be there. he just loves seeing the joy in your face!

NSFW

oh boy is he starving for you

but he'd patiently wait until you're ready

and when you are, this animal would be unforgiving

he'd go hard on the foreplay, playing with your tits under your shirt as he thrives on the little moans and whimpers you make. he'd overstimulate you so much you'd be too tired for the actual deed

but don't get me wrong he won't be rough, he'll just be doing A LOT of stimulation

he'd kiss you a lot during your first time, periodically checking if you're feeling okay. it'll be sloppy kisses tho, always have saliva trailing down your skin with lip marks

"sure you can handle it, flower?" a mix of genuine concern and teasing

it'd be missionary. as much as he REVERES reverse cowgirl so he has a full view of that cake, he'd want your first to be special. he'd want your first to be completely skin on skin with him, maintaining eye contact as he slides it in, kissing while moving, and holding hands so you'd have something to squeeze onto. he'd press foreheads with you, easing your knitted brows as you try and take him all in, clenching along the way

as aforementioned, he wouldn't have much trouble in sliding himself in despite his size because of the amount of foreplay he did on you

"aren't you a pretty fuckin' sight like this, aye?"

"so well, so fuckin' good, my love."

"you're close? enjoyed yourself too much, aye?"

he'd stay forehead-to-forehead with you, exchanging breaths as you both released in each other. he'd mumble a low "fuck," as you did a last clench around him with your release when you were desperately clawing at his neck and back with the ecstacy. "went a little wild there, princess." he'd kiss your cheek, tucking the hair sticking on your face behind your ear. he'll gently throw you over his shoulder, so as to not hurt your cunt by stretching it more on a bridal carry, and bring you to the bath to wash up with you

helllooo thank you for requesting 🌷 this was soooo fun to make i really miss my boy 😍 thank you for the support anon 🥺

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 20 days

Note

Hi..do you accept request?

If you do could you make Xiao is the father of creator child?

Thank you

The creator had a:

Birdly child

WC: ~700

I'm in love with how two asks came at the same time about Xiao, it's time to give the emo baby some love

I remember reading hatchlings often have rough feathers and aren't as photogenic as grown ups until the first feathers fall off.

“Bright yellow eyes aren't all that uncommon too” furina looks over your shoulder as you nurse your daughter, she would say she looks surprisingly unremarkable if that didn't sound like an insult of sorts even if it was true, dark blue hair and striking yellow eyes but nothing much. For one minute she hoped she would come out with long blue streaks and sharp angled ears, even if only so she could tease Neuvillette about his meeting with you.

“I’m happy enough that her face is similar to their grace” the tsaritsa sits beside you, a tea cup between her hands, as bitter as she seemed to whoever she expected was your lover her confirmation to the baby shower was the first to arrive, a few plushies and older baby clothes.

Zhongli stands just behind furina, watching her face as you burp Xuezhui, the little lift at the end of her eyes making them slightly sharper than they are, reminding him of a certain someone. Snow and bird, Aren't you a bit too on the nose? Oh, well, at least his dear apprentice and friend found some happiness.

His gold eyes look at furina, a soft smile forming “I think she looks so cute, like a finch hatchling” his hand getting close to her and lightly brushing her rough hair with one finger, such a tiny baby.

“I never said she isn't!”

“Did you want to see me, Morax?” Xiao appears beside zhongli, Xuezhui was getting fuzzy and you decided to put the baby to sleep before returning to the archons, during that time they divided to do as they pleased, and by the steaming teapot Xiao could guess he decided to enjoy some tea

“Take a seat”

“Is anything wrong?”

“I see you truly took it to heart to protect their grace, even spent the night in their room to be sure” zhongli swirls the golden tea inside the cup. The noise of the slight splashing drowned by the noise of him choking on his spit.

“My apologies, Rex Lapis, it wasn't meant to-” quickly he bows, his forehead touching the table but zhongli cuts him with a small smirk.

“when two finches love each other very much they spend the night together and-”

“I'm already repenting, please…”

The night is warm and clear, the crescent moon on full display and your baby isn't in her crib yet you aren't truly worried after walking to the balcony and seeing a figure seated on the edge of the nursery's roof.

Xiao holds his daughter to his chest while trying to manage the wild mane of blueish hair she has, the exact same he had as a kid but chose to cut. Now, to some extent he wishes he listened to guizhong when she spoke of hairstyling.

For now he settles with two pigtails on either side of her head, one lower than the other but his daughter was starting to wriggle around and start pushing her head against his neck, wanting to return to her crib and sleep.

“Is she looking at me?” Arlecchino asks as she feels a gaze burning on her neck, usually if it was one of her children she would tell them off for being so obvious but for it to be a rather spoilt toddler who isn't training to be a spy she couldn't say much.

“Ah, apologies about it, she is going through a phase of watching everyone” there is your kid, her hair on two braids and her yellow eyes watching owlishly.

“You know, if you lent her to me I could train her, she seems to be a natural” she teases you.

“Oh, don't even worry” as you return to the conversation without paying her too much mind you can still see her unblinking amber eyes from the door.

“Stop crawling over your crib’s railing, you are going to hurt yourself!” You scold your toddler, one leg and an arm over the railing attempting to escape nap time “go to sleep, you are in a bad mood if you don't nap”

she mumbles something you guess was her saying she wanted to play or crawl around but you don't follow her game.

“I don't care! To bed, young missy or your little night scrolls with your dad are done!” she huffs and sits down her back facing you.

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #self aware genshin

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Text

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.”

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up.

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.”

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice.

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months.

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.”

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction.

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.”

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.”

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare.

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway.

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan.

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.”

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes.

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.”

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often.

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time.

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.”

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.”

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.”

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography.

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse.

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough.

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled.

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance.

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.”

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.”

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves.

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark.

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.”

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once.

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.”

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily.

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.”

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.”

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.”

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.”

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray.

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.”

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs.

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.”

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest.

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.”

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.”

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed.

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door.

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out.

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.”

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.”

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly.

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.”

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.”

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magniloquent-raven · 10 months

Text

I am once again plagued with thoughts that aren't 100% coherent so imma just ramble for a bit, pls gather 'round for some stuff about Billy and body image issues cuz I'm in my feels rn.

Billy spends a lot of time staring at Nancy.

Enough that Tommy's noticed and he starts ribbing him about it. "That's one thing of Steve's you might want to stay away from," bitter and pointed. Enough that Jonathan Byers gives him the stink eye whenever he's within glaring distance. Enough that a handful of the more desperate chicks still high off the fumes of his New Kid smell have started dressing like fucking librarians in hopes of catching his eye.

He doesn't give a shit about any of it, if anything the rumour mill is helping him out for once. Less work involved in keeping up appearances if everyone just assumes he isn't sleeping around because he's too busy sniffing Wheeler's granny panties.

As long as no one guesses the real reason, it's fine. It's fucking peachy. It's one silver lining in this shitstorm of a situation.

He's so tired of his eyes inevitably being drawn to her barely-there tits and tiny waist. Every time he's bored at lunch, his gaze wanders. When he's in the library pretending to study, there she fucking is, even smaller when she's hunched over a pile of cue cards.

The longer he looks at her the more sure he is that Steve will never really want him.

Steve's slept with plenty of girls. A variety of girls. He probably couldn't afford to be too picky in this shitty little town. But he's only fallen in love once. One time. The only time it mattered what he was sticking his dick in was when it was in Nancy Wheeler.

And Billy...will never be her. Not even close.

He'll only ever be a warm mouth and a convenient hand, he'll never matter.

She's flat, and thin. Willowy, narrow-shouldered. Petite. Inches shorter than him and nearly half as broad. Thin fingers and delicate wrists. She fit comfortably under Steve's arm, she could nestle safely into his side.

And it was all so fucking easy for her. She never had to try.

She never had to piss off her dad so she'd be forced to skip meals. She never did laps around her neighbourhood until she was lightheaded and doubled over, dry-heaving in someone's hedge. She was never forced to sign up for baseball as a child, poked and prodded and guilted into it because a couple shirts were starting to get tight across the stomach, and being a momma's boy was bad enough, being a fat, lazy piece of shit too was unacceptable.

He used to think he'd done well, maintaining the physique he has. He's worked hard for it. Scraping together his savings for a weight set and keeping careful track of his calorie intake and never skipping a single fucking day of exercise, hangovers and broken bones be damned. And it's fucking useful, truth be told. More than keeping away the echo of old insults bouncing around in his head, it's made flirting that much easier.

But the more he looks at Nancy Wheeler, the more he hates the things he can't change. It gets into his head. Digs in deep, leaving scars on its way down.

He thinks Steve might've noticed.

He knows Steve has heard the stupid rumours about Wheeler, and probably chalked it up to Billy being an asshole, as usual. But it's harder to explain away his sudden tendency to go extremely still whenever Steve puts his hands anywhere on his torso. A palm pressed to his chest, slipped under his shirt, or fingertips digging into his back, or a casual fucking pat on the shoulder—whatever it is, he can't help freezing up, if only for a second, a sick feeling twisting his stomach, cold and shameful and clawing at his lungs.

And then, eventually, they argue.

It's over nothing. And everything. Billy can't explain what his fucking damage is, and Steve can't stop needling in the wrong places. They scream at each other until their throats are raw and Billy leaves when his knuckles start to itch.

He cries all the way home and doesn't eat for four days. Not on purpose. Not consciously. He's just. Fucking. Busy. He's busy. He's always gotta drive Max somewhere or dodge Neil's thinly veiled threats or lock himself in his room when bile starts to bubble up in the back of his throat and his head pounds and he doesn't think about why he's snapping at everyone constantly, he just pounds back a couple beers and goes to sleep. And then it's four days later, and he's flying off the handle at Neil, too sluggish and lightheaded to see the hit coming, and...

Steve comes to see him at the hospital. He hasn't told anyone anything but they've got him hooked up to a banana bag and the nurses keep making sad eyes at him when they come to check his stitches.

He hates it, sitting around doing nothing, being closely monitored every fucking second, it make his skin crawl, and he hates it even more when Steve's standing in the doorway looking at him.

Not for the first time, he's overwhelmed wondering what exactly Steve sees.

He's a fucking mess right now. Greasy hair tangled at the back, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his gross papery hospital gown, one eye swollen shut and a dark tangle of thread holding his eyebrow together. It feels stupid to get stressed about all the shit that usually bothers him when there's so many other things to worry about, but he still finds himself shifting in place, hunching his shoulders, hiding his hands in the crooks of his elbows.

It's sort of a disaster. Worse than last time they saw each other. Billy's not in the mood for Steve's apologies and Steve's at a loss for what else to say.

They don't see each other again for months. Steve graduates. Billy avoids anywhere he thinks Steve might be, and lies awake at night haunted by stolen touches.

He catches a glimpse of Steve through the red haze of storm clouds and cold lightning, tears blurring his vision, the Mind Flayer wearing him like a suit. Their cars collide, and everything whites out for a second.

He's in the hospital again when they finally talk. Billy rolls his eyes at "We've gotta stop meeting like this," and tries not to think about last time he was here. Steve seems more than willing to ignore it. Move forward. Guess demonic possession puts some things into a different perspective.

When Billy's released from the hospital he's seventeen pounds heavier than he was a few months ago. Every time the nurses did their check-ups and put him on the scale they'd pat his elbow, smiling encouragingly, telling him how good he was doing while he watched his stomach get softer, his biceps get less defined, watched himself disappear beneath a layer of fat.

The first thing he does when he gets home is throw up.

He doesn't make it happen. It just happens. And he blames it on the meds they have him on. It's a plausible enough reason, and it means he doesn't have to interrogate the tiny spark of satisfaction he got from losing his lunch.

His second day back home Neil asks him when he's going to start exercising again. His expression is pinched. Cold. His eyes are ice chips freezing Billy's skin wherever they touch, lingering on the softness under his chin, and where the hem of his sleeve pinches his skin.

He pushes his dinner away and grits out an answer from between clenched teeth.

He doesn't need the reminder that he's gotten weak while he was trapped in a hospital bed, but Neil gives it to him anyways. Tells him all about everything he should do to get things back to normal. Push past the pain. Work harder. He tunes it out after a while, and watches grease congeal on his meatloaf.

Eddie Munson is the first person to bring up the things Billy's never known how to talk about.

They started hanging out after Billy's most recent brush with death. Billy's not sure exactly how the got here, from buying the occasional painkiller and letting the guy wax poetic about his dumb band, to spending weekends getting high together at the trailer park. But as weird things in his life go, it's barely worth questioning.

This particular conversation starts with Chrissy Cunningham.

Specifically, Eddie's massive boner for her.

Billy's been noticing it for a while. He hasn't been letting it bother him.

He hasn't.

Maybe he likes the way Eddie smiles at him when they pass a joint back and forth, lazily stretched out and wearing three less layers than usual, and maybe he thinks about closing the distance between them when Eddie offers to shotgun, but it doesn't fucking matter. Just like it doesn't matter that Steve hasn't touched him since before the Mind Flayer and things are fucking weird now that they're on speaking terms again. None of it matters, he's just a fucking idiot.

Because Steve and his new best friend Robin are attached at the hip lately and everyone can see where that's going, and Eddie won't stop talking about tiny, pretty, perfect fucking Chrissy and her stupid ponytail.

And Billy...Billy gets winded walking up the porch steps at his house now. And he pulled a muscle in his back trying to lift half the weight he used to press. And last week he burned three pairs of jeans in the backyard because he kept grabbing them out of his laundry pile, not realizing they don't fit anymore until he was struggling to pull them up past his knees.

He's lost the one thing people used to actually like about him. Never the people he wanted, he was never enough for that, but it was something. Now he's just...

Now he's just listening to a guy he likes talk about some goddamn cheerleader like she personally hung the moon just for him.

And he's drunk. They're both drunk. Eddie in a soppy, embarrassing way, with a sparkle in his eye and a flush on his cheeks, an arm across the back of the couch, outstretched far enough that the tips of his fingers almost brush Billy's shoulder.

He wants to move closer. Thinks about shuffling into Eddie's space, curling into the warmth at his side. But it twists in his guts, sours, sickens—he couldn't, he can't. And he hates himself for wanting to.

"What do you see in her?" spills out of his mouth, bitter on his tongue and sharpened by anger he has no right to feel.

She's pretty. He expects it. She's pretty, she's perfect. She's a fucking angel even though her and Eddie only know each other because she buys drugs off of him. But she can do no wrong because she looks like a little china doll with sad eyes and everyone would be devastated if a single hair on her tiny delicate head was harmed.

Eddie only looks thrown off for a second. A moment. But he shrugs it off, leans his head back against the couch cushions and grins at the ceiling. "She likes my music."

Since fucking when.

"So, what, it's just an ego stroking thing then."

"Nah, man. I mean. Like. She's got this whole good-girl thing going on, but you should see her when I pull out my guitar, it's fuckin'...magic. When she lets herself just. Live." He wiggles his fingers in the air, arms spread, then drops them back down.

Billy's heart clenches, squeezes. It hurts and he doesn't know why. "Bullshit."

"Nah, nah. Seriously. The guy she's dating is a fucking asshole. And her mom..." he trails off, and rubs his eye. "She's just got all this pressure to be perfect, act a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way, and I hate seeing what it does to her, man. I hate it. No one should have to deal with all that. So. I dunno. I like helping her cut loose. Sorta, find herself, I guess." He cracks a crooked smile, casting a glance in Billy's direction.

And his smile drops.

"Billy?" He sits up, cautious, eyebrows up and his eyes wide.

Billy turns away, shocked into motion, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I'm fine. Fuck off."

He didn't notice he was crying until Eddie looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.

"Yeah, obviously."

"Fuck you."

Eddie doesn't get much more out of him that night. But he starts watching Billy like a hawk after that. Checking in on him at random. Calling if they haven't seen each other in a few days. It should be irritating as fuck, and he acts like it is, but he still basks in the attention.

Doesn't hurt that it seems to annoy Steve to no end.

Especially doesn't hurt when, in a fit of apparent jealousy, Steve shoves Billy into a wall and kisses him like his life depends on it.

The hurt comes when Steve starts to unbutton Billy's shirt and Billy reflexively shoves him away, when he wants to keep going but wants it to stop and can't tell Steve either of those things because he doesn't have the words.

So he gets angry. At Steve, for pushing it, crossing lines he can't even see. But mostly at himself, because it might be easier than standing there heartbroken but he knows it's the worst thing he could do.

And at Steve, again, when the he doesn't respond the way he should. Doesn't punish Billy for doing the wrong thing, reacting wrong, being wrong. He doesn't withdraw and save himself, he tries to understand, tries to talk it out, like this is something Billy can just say out loud and it'll all be fixed.

He doesn't explain. Not that day. But he lets Steve hold him while he cries, ugly gasping sobs into the front of Steve's shirt, curled up in his lap, collapsed on the floor and tangled together. Because despite everything he's told himself, he does fit comfortably in Steve's arms.

💜tag list ppl💜 @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

#stranger things #billy hargrove #harringrove #mungrove #a raven's writing desk #tw disordered eating #tw body issues #body image issues

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nyoomerr · 6 months

Note

For the drabble request, I can never get enough shixiong!SY bingqiu. But only if you're up to it :)

ok it turns out i'm fundamentally unable to write a drabble as short as theyre meant to be, so here's over 4k words of shixiong!sy for your perusal 🤡 (+ a decent helping of cranky peak lord sqq and his wayward head disciple sy)

---

Shen Yuan… has possibly let himself become a bit too relaxed, since he first transmigrated. He used to spend every day on high alert: every cute little kid might be the protagonist, every mistake he made might have been logged somewhere for a petty revenge side plot later. He wouldn’t dare miss anything plot relevant, not when it might cause his doom. After all, ‘Shen Yuan’ wasn’t even a named character within PIDW - he was well and truly canon fodder!

But then, ah… Then Shen Yuan was accepted as a disciple on Qing Jing, and then he was a personal disciple of the notorious Shen Qingqiu, and then -

Well, not even Shen Yuan can keep up that sort of hyper vigilance all the time, okay!! He’s the scum villain’s head disciple - basically a henchman! If he lived in fear for every moment he might be condemned, he’d never have a second to rest!

It isn’t Shen Yuan’s fault that the best way to relax in this world is to go on years-long expeditions off peak!

…It might, maybe, be just a tiny bit my fault, Shen Yuan thinks, staring at Luo Binghe with horror. How does he manage to take such a long vacation that he misses the protagonist’s arrival onto Qing Jing? What kind of fake fan is he, ah?!

Luo Binghe has not introduced himself as such, but there is no way he can be anyone but Luo Binghe. His hair falls into perfect curls around a face so cute and round Shen Yuan wants to squish his cheeks until they turn pink, and he’s wearing an expression so determined and focused that it puts Shen Yuan to shame as the head disciple.

And he’s chopping wood. That’s the most recognizable part, obviously.

Shen Yuan forces himself to step forward into the small glade he found Luo Binghe in, clearing his throat awkwardly. Luo Binghe whips around, and Shen Yuan nearly cringes at the nervous apprehension on the boy’s face.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to startle you…” Shen Yuan trails off. Luo Binghe stares at him and says nothing. Shen Yuan’s perfectly nice and friendly smile starts to slip. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before…?”

“Apologies to Shixiong, this one will be sure to cut wood further away from the main peak buildings, so Shixiong doesn’t have to see me again.”

“Wha - wait, wait, that’s not what I meant!” Shen Yuan cries, becoming increasingly concerned about just how long he’s been away from Qing Jing.

For Luo Binghe to already be this wary of any Shixiong who looks his way… ah, Shen Yuan has basically already failed every single one of his loose plans to keep Luo Binghe from blackening! He wasn’t even there to witness Luo Binghe’s initial perfect white sheep days, let alone keep him out of the warpath of bullies and bitter Shizuns!

“This Shixiong is Shen Yuan,” he says, taking a few slow steps closer to Luo Binghe. Somehow, he gets the feeling that he has to be ready to catch Luo Binghe by the scruff if he tries to run off or start a fight while Shen Yuan is just trying to introduce himself, ah!

“This one is Luo Binghe,” Luo Binghe replies, dipping into a perfunctory bow.

“Yes!” Shen Yuan says. “I mean - well, it’s a good name.”

Luo Binghe’s expression only grows more wary.

“And ah, how long has Luo Binghe been on the peak?” Shen Yuan asks, even though the look Luo Binghe is giving him makes him want to slink back off into the bamboo forest. He has to know - if he’s lucky, it’ll only have been a year or two, and Shen Yuan can -

“This one has been a disciple of Qing Jing for over three years, now,” Luo Binghe says.

“Hm!” Shen Yuan says, because what he really wants to do is yell but he can’t do that with this customer service smile plastered on his face.

Inwardly, he allows himself to monologue out a list of swears that would’ve gotten his old online accounts temporarily locked. Over three years is too long!! The blackening has already started!! Luo Binghe has already started damaging his meridians by following that cursed fake manual, has already started training under Meng Mo, and most importantly has already given up hope of being accepted here and started farming resentment instead!

Shen Yuan is fucked!! What sort of half-assed blackening prevention plan starts this late!?

“Ah, so Luo-shidi must already be 15, or nearly there,” Shen Yuan says aloud, laughing nervously. “Are you, um, sure?”

Please, please tell this pitiful Shixiong of yours that you just misspoke!!

Luo Binghe looks at him like he’s an idiot. Shen Yuan can feel nervous sweat beading along his forehead.

“It’s just - well, Luo-shidi is quite small, for being 15,” Shen Yuan says, and then nearly bites his tongue in an attempt to correct himself. Who is he to call the protagonist ‘small,’ ah!! “Not quite small! Only a bit! Only - uh, only slightly smaller than I’d expect! It’s only that I’m already 19, and Luo-shidi is much - I mean only a little! - shorter than I am, so -”

Shen Yuan makes himself shut up. You’re making a fool of yourself in front of the protagonist, you idiot!

“This one will be sure to train more to get bigger,” Luo Binghe says, though it sounds a bit like he’s talking through gritted teeth.

“No, no, you’re training plenty!” Shen Yuan rushes to say. “Uh, that is - admittedly, I’ve been off peak for some time now, but when I was Luo-shidi’s age, things like chopping wood were a group chore, so if you’re managing it all by yourself, surely you’re… big and strong…”

Shen Yuan shuts up again. Luo Binghe stares at him some more, but there’s something in his expression that seems more considering that it had been just a moment ago.

After a long stretch of awkward silence, he seems to come to some sort of resolution, and takes a hesitant step towards Shen Yuan.

“Forgive this one’s ignorance,” he says, slow and careful. “The other Shixiong said it was a chore best done alone to build strength. Is that wrong?”

“Very wrong,” Shen Yuan says, nearly beside himself with relief.

Good, very good! Luo Binghe hasn’t lost all hope for his time on Qing Jing Peak just yet, after all! Given the chance, he’ll still try to carefully raise the issue of his bullying to a responsible Shixiong to take care of!

Shen Yuan can so be a responsible Shixiong that takes care of reports of bullying for Luo Binghe!!

“Oh,” Luo Binghe says, edging even closer to Shen Yuan. “Then what does Shen-shixiong think I should do?”

“Luo-shidi doesn’t have to do anything about this,” Shen Yuan says firmly. “This Shixiong will take care of finding out who’s meant to be sharing this chore with you and make them do the rest of it.”

“There might be multiple people,” Luo Binghe offers, still speaking with a caution that makes it quite clear how likely he thinks it is that Shen Yuan’s assistance will vanish as soon as Luo Binghe complains too much.

“Because Luo-shidi has been made to do this chore alone for many days, now?” Shen Yuan asks.

Still looking a bit wary, Luo Binghe nods. Shen Yuan sighs, having expected that answer, and takes the final steps needed to get within arm’s reach of Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe watches him closely, his hands curling tighter around the ax he’d been using to chop the wood.

Moving slowly so as not to spook him, Shen Yuan raises one hand to place gently on Luo Binghe’s head. He really is too short for 15, but Shen Yuan knows all the details of ‘why’ - having to work too hard with not enough rest, having meals withheld from him or being served with spoilt ingredients - any kid would be a bit small, when under those conditions.

Luo Binghe had gone stiff under Shen Yuan’s touch, and Shen Yuan takes a moment to pet the top of his head for a moment before saying anything else, hoping to get Luo Binghe to relax again.

Ah, I really did mean to try and keep you safe, Shen Yuan thinks to himself, feeling regretful. He’d come to Cang Qiong with the intention of finding Luo Binghe early, after all, and had worked as hard as he had in order to be ready for Luo Binghe when he came.

But then he had worked too hard, and Shen Qingqiu had promoted him to head disciple, and suddenly Shen Yuan thought he might go insane if he wasn’t able to get off Qing Jing Peak and stay off for as long as he could possibly get away with, and -

How stupid of him. Luo Binghe must have been taken in during the disciple selection the very same year that Shen Yuan had taken off on his extended field trip. How very, very stupid of Shen Yuan, to think that things wouldn’t go upside down the second he looked away - this is Luo Binghe’s story, after all, and it’s always been a bit of a tragedy.

“Then this Shixiong can only apologize to you,” Shen Yuan says softly, with perhaps just a bit too much sincerity. “And in the future, if you’re given this sort of work again, I’ll chop wood in your place.”

Under his hand, Luo Binghe peers up at Shen Yuan with wide, hungry eyes. Shen Yuan gives him a final pat before withdrawing his hand, and plasters his friendly smile back on his face.

“Now, why don’t you get cleaned up, hm? I’ll meet you again later - this Shixiong of yours still needs to report back to Shizun that I’ve returned from my trip.”

Luo Binghe nods, still watching Shen Yuan with an intensity that would feel more at home on an emperor than a scrawny 15 year old, and Shen Yuan beats a hasty retreat.

Despite all the pretty promises he made to Luo Binghe, he’s going to have to think of something clever to actually be able to fulfill them.

After all, not even all of his meta knowledge combined would be able to save Shen Yuan from his Shizun.

---

Shen Yuan has been pacing outside Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house for ten minutes now. Nothing he can think of is good enough to convince someone as petty and stubborn as Shen Qingqiu.

Once, at the start of his time on Qing Jing Peak, Shen Yuan had tied his disciple robes wrong, unused to wearing anything quite so complex. Shen Qingqiu had sneered at his mistake in the moment, and then for every major event in the next five years straight he’d made a point to comment snidely on how well Shen Yuan has managed to dress himself.

That’s the sort of mean streak this man has!! If he doesn’t like something, he’ll keep harping on that one thing for years, even after that thing isn’t around to bother him anymore! How is Shen Yuan supposed to coax Luo Binghe out of the jaws of a man like that?

Ah, forget it, forget it! Shen Yuan would just - he’d come back another day! Greeting Shen Qingqiu wasn’t really necessary, Shen Yuan could just -

“I was under the impression that Shen Yuan was a head disciple returning from field work, not a child trying to avoid bedtime.”

Shen Yuan whips around, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end like a spooked cat. There, kneeling elegantly on his front porch not ten meters from Shen Yuan, is Shen Qingqiu.

“Shizun!” Shen Yuan cries, trying to force his grimace into a nice, polite smile. “When did - I mean - this disciple means -”

Shen Qingqiu closes his fan with a harsh snap, and Shen Yuan shuts his mouth so fast he almost bites his tongue.

“Well?” Shen Qingqiu asks dryly, and Shen Yuan hurriedly drops into a bow.

“This disciple greets Shizun!” Shen Yuan shouts, his ears burning with embarrassment.

Shen Qingqiu hums, and Shen Yuan risks peeking out from his bow to look at him.

He does not look especially pleased.

With all the elegance of a wild cat, Shen Qingqiu unfolds himself from his kneeling position on the porch and glides over to Shen Yuan.

“Too low,” he says, slapping at Shen Yuan’s wrists with his fan. “Or was Shen Yuan hoping there would be a replacement head disciple waiting for him by the time he came back from his trip?”

“Ahahaha,” Shen Yuan wheezes, carefully correcting himself into a bow of a slightly higher ranked disciple than the one he’d originally slipped into. “Of course this disciple is honored by the position and very very grateful for Shizun’s benevolence in leaving it to him even during his absence…”

“What advice does Shen Yuan think his Shizun has for him?” Shen Qingqiu asks sharply, and Shen Yuan winces.

“‘Talk less,’ Shizun,” he recites dutifully. It is advice that Shen Qingqiu has given him many, many times.

Shen Qingqiu sniffs haughtily and walks a slow circle around Shen Yuan, inspecting him. Shen Yuan tries not to sweat too profusely. He really had been hoping that Shen Qingqiu may have forgotten about Shen Yuan in his years away, ah!

Finally, Shen Qingqiu completes his inspection, stopping once more in front of Shen Yuan.

“What sort of pathetic creature has Shen Yuan carved the bones of to make his hairpiece?” He asks, using his fan to prod at Shen Yuan’s hairpin.

“A Hundred Year Crystal Tortoise, Shizun,” Shen Yuan answers.

“And the leather of your belt?”

“A Golden-Footed Acidic Bear, Shizun.”

“And did you even bother to remove the -”

“- the needle hairs beneath the Bear’s skin before treating the pelt,” Shen Yuan interrupts. “Yes, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “How bold you’ve gotten, interrupting your Shizun.”

“...Sorry, Shizun,” Shen Yuan mumbles, deflating a bit.

“Still,” Shen Qingqiu sighs, and Shen Yuan peeks back up at him again. “You did decent enough, I suppose.”

Shen Yuan perks up, half-standing up out of his bow. “Thanking Shizun -!”

Shen Qingqiu whacks him over the head with his fan. “If Shen Yuan’s trip had been only a single year, instead of nearly four!”

Shen Yuan very quickly gets back into the proper deferential position.

“Fleeing so quickly after being promoted, only to stay away for this long - I hope Shen Yuan is comfortable sleeping on the ground, because I’ve long since given up keeping the side room in my house for an absent head disciple. I filled it with cursed artifacts and dusty books two years ago.”

“Shizun -!” Shen Yuan protests, starting to stand up again. He’d liked that little room, damn it! It was the one decent part of being promoted to head disciple in the first place, even if it meant sharing a roof with this asshole!!

Shen Qingqiu whacks him again, and Shen Yuan obediently shuts up.

“Foolish boy,” he scolds, before promptly turning on his heel to stalk back to the bamboo house. “Hurry up, then,” he calls behind him, “I want to see if you still make tea as dreadfully as you did before.”

Shen Yuan makes a face at Shen Qingqiu’s back. Without looking behind him, Shen Qingqiu uses his qi to send a single leaf flying to Shen Yuan’s head, slapping him on the forehead right over where Shen Yuan’s brows had bunched together.

Shen Yuan smooths his face out into a perfectly polite smile once more. This asshole, he curses inwardly, he really is scum!! The lowest of the low!! A bully!!!

“Tea, Shen Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu calls once more, and Shen Yuan hurries to catch up.

---

Later, after Shen Yuan has dutifully given a retelling of his adventures over the last few years, and after Shen Qingqiu has grilled him on every mistake he made and how stupid that was of him and how shitty his tea still tastes, Shen Yuan finally manages to bring up Luo Binghe.

“This disciple met someone new this morning,” he says, pouring Shen Qingqiu more of his apparently awful tea.

“Was Shen Yuan sure they were new? Perhaps it’s been so many years your brain has started to forget the faces of the idiots here in favor of whatever foolish beasts you’ve been studying.”

“Someone new,” Shen Yuan confirms, pretending to ignore Shen Qingqiu’s very pointed glare. “He was a disciple even younger than Ning-shimei, and you only picked her out the year before I left.”

“Ah,” Shen Qingqiu says, and all of a sudden Shen Yuan thinks that perhaps his Shizun has never been truly irritated with him in the past, because this expression is far more acidic than anything Shen Yuan has seen before.

“A-ah…?” Shen Yuan says, stupidly.

Shen Jiu sets his cup down with a harsh clink. “Shen Yuan should ignore that little beast. He won’t bring you any good news.”

“Shizun, this disciple likes beasts best,” Shen Yuan says. “Is he so bad?”

“Ignore him,” Shen Qingqiu repeats frostily.

Shen Yuan swallows. This… there’s no way that he’ll be able to convince Shen Qingqiu to give Luo Binghe an honest shot in this one conversation. He can’t bet on being able to eventually wear him down, though, either - even if he does eventually convince him, if it takes a year to do it, that’s also not any good. Shen Yuan needs to be able to help Luo Binghe now.

Okay. This is fine. Shen Yuan has - he has so many very good ideas, all of them very well thought out and full of strategic benefits. He can use any one of these very good and smart ideas.

“I understand, Shizun,” Shen Yuan says, “That beast won’t be a shidi of mine, then.”

“Good, now -”

“But what about as a pet?”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him. Shen Yuan stares back.

“A pet,” Shen Qingqiu repeats.

“A pet,” Shen Yuan agrees. “Shizun, I already said that I like beasts best - if I can’t raise Luo Binghe to be my shidi, can’t I raise him as my pet instead?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “Beasts aren’t for keeping.”

“Sometimes they are - Cang Qiong has a whole peak dedicated to such a thing,” Shen Yuan points out. Shen Qingqiu’s scowl grows more fierce.

“Qing Jing is above such dirty work,” he spits.

Shen Yuan swallows again, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. He’s already started down this path; he may as well place all his bets on making it through.

“Then perhaps Qing Jing is not for this disciple after all,” Shen Yuan says, trying to keep his voice steady. It still comes out a bit reedy, but at the very least, his voice doesn’t crack over the words.

Shen Qingqiu’s eye twitches. “Speak plainly - Shen Yuan has already spent several years neglecting his duties. How much farther do you intend to stray?”

“Shizun so graciously held the position of head disciple open for this one,” Shen Yuan hedges. “On that topic, isn’t it possible for head disciples to choose to spend a decade or so on a different peak of their choice, to encourage diversity in education and cross-peak relationships before the head disciple becomes beholden to their peak as a lord? Perhaps I could take in a pet on a different peak, with such a method.”

“That’s a custom reserved for older disciples,” Shen Qingqiu spits, “intended to benefit them in the years directly leading up to their ascension as a peak lord, not when the head disciple is just a little whelp with a century ahead of them before they can wear a lord’s crown.”

“No such rule is written anywhere, Shizun.”

“Then I’ll write it,” Shen Qingqiu hisses. “Shen Yuan, you’ve had your fun these past years - now you are to stay on this peak.”

“Then I want a pet,” Shen Yuan says, tilting his head up defiantly. “It’ll benefit Shizun, too: you won’t have to feed or clothe him anymore, nor train him to be a cultivator.”

Not that you were doing any of those things for Luo Binghe before, ah!! Shen Yuan thinks, trying to focus on that feeling of indignation. If he just thinks about that - about the horror of coming across Luo Binghe in that clearing earlier, too scrawny to be 15 and yet wary enough of the world he may as well have been an adult - then Shen Yuan can hold his ground.

If he just thinks about Luo Binghe as a neglected kid, and he just thinks of Shen Qingqiu as that child’s abuser -

If he just thinks about that, then Shen Yuan can meet the eyes of the man who has taught him and promoted him and housed him in the side room of his house, and he can demand this one thing.

“With what funds would Shen Yuan be able to feed and clothe his pet?” Shen Qingqiu asks sharply. “With what free time would he train him not to bite?”

“This one is the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak,” Shen Yuan says. “If a head disciple couldn’t manage that much, they certainly couldn’t deserve to ascend as a peak lord in the future.”

Shen Qingqiu falls silent, unfurling his fan and raising it high up his face until only his eyes peered out the top of it, watching Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan’s hands twist in his lap, but he keeps his gaze steady.

“A head disciple does not run away from the position,” Shen Qingqiu says.

“Nor does a master run off from their pet,” Shen Yuan agrees.

There’s another moment of quiet as they both watch each other. When Shen Qingqiu speaks again, his voice is firm, like someone reciting basic peak rules and not the terms of the most batshit insane agreement Shen Yuan has ever brokered.

“You will stay on Qing Jing,” Shen Qingqiu says, “and you will accept the head discipleship position without fuss.”

“Yes, Shizun.”

“No more trips. No more pretending to forget to introduce yourself as my head disciple. No more pushing your pathetic disciple brothers at me with paperwork that you clearly filled out in some sort of foolish scheme to have me consider them over you.”

Shen Yuan winces. “Yes, Shizun.”

“You will not receive any additional allowance, for any reason, outside of the funds normally provided to a head disciple. Any pests you pick up will not sleep in my house, nor will you be allowed to request room in the dormitories for any such creature. Those resources are for disciples, not beasts.”

Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe can’t sleep in the rundown woodshed forever, and he wants to protest the idea that the dorms are for disciples, as if Luo Binghe was ever allowed in there in the first place.

Shen Qingqiu taps one finger on the table. “Answer, Shen Yuan.”

“This disciple agrees under one condition,” Shen Yuan says. “Using his personal funds, this disciple would like to request permission to make moderate renovations to a peak structure in order to improve the quality of kept wood.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Disciple Shen Yuan’s personal funds will be drained by feeding an animal - you will not be able to afford the standards that Qing Jing exacts for renovation projects.”

“This disciple has been collecting favors from An Ding. They will be repaid, and this disciple will be able to afford the project.”

“Shen Yuan had best not be caught collecting any such favors forcibly,” Shen Qingqiu warns, which is very distinctly a ‘don’t get caught blackmailing people’ warning and not a blanket ‘don’t blackmail people’ one.

“Of course,” Shen Yuan agrees. “This one is the personal disciple of Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu - how could I get caught in such a way?”

Read: you’ve made sure I understand how to not get caught when doing something shady, at the very least!!

Shen Qingqiu waves his fan once, twice - he’s irritated, but doesn’t necessarily disagree.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Permission for a renovation to that ugly woodshed is granted. And Shen Yuan’s answer to all other stipulations?”

“This disciple agrees.”

Shen Qingqiu slaps his fan closed in one palm. “Then Shen Yuan is allowed a pet. I won’t interfere further.”

Shen Yuan nods. He expected as much; Shen Qingqiu won’t egg on any further bullying, nor will he stop Shen Yuan from taking any measures he pleases when it comes to Luo Binghe, but he won’t help Shen Yuan dissuade the current bullying.

That’s fine - already, this is enough to help Luo Binghe.

“Thanking Shizun,” Shen Yuan says, bowing his head slightly. “This disciple will not disappoint.”

After all, how hard could raising the protagonist be? This world revolves around Luo Binghe; all Shen Yuan needs to do is make Luo Binghe’s everyday life a bit less miserable, give him just one person he can trust. Luo Binghe will manage the rest himself, by nature of being who he is - what he is.

Yes, this - this is the best way.

---

Outside the bamboo house, crouched beneath a window so still his muscles ache and his head feels woozy from how shallow he’s kept his breathing, Luo Binghe listens to his Shizun and Shixiong move on to discuss cleaning out the side room now that Shen Yuan has returned to the peak.

A pet, he thinks, his eyes blown wide, his fingers digging deep into the ground beneath his knees. He can feel dirt caking the underside of his fingernails, and the scars he leaves in the ground are very much like an animal, indeed.

A pet, he thinks again, over and over on loop in his mind, his pretty Shixiong’s voice fading to background noise. He thinks of Shen Yuan gently patting his head like one might coax a dog, and he thinks -

Yes, a pet.

#please forgive any grammar/flow issues w this if i tried to edit it i would have come to you w a 6k oneshot instead of a 4k one LMFAO #i'll probs clean it up and post it on ao3 after rent a bingge is done! for now tho enjoy uwu #svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #fic drabble

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nokaslitz · 3 months

Note

hii do you think you could do a tom x female reader where reader is georgs younger sister and she’s really close with him so he takes her on tour with them all and she’s really close to the rest of the band and she has a big crush on tom but only georg knows and he doesn’t want her dating anyone cause “she’s too young” even though she’s not and he’s protective over her but one night they all go to an after party and they’re drinking and tom confesses he likes her to like everyone while drunk so bill takes him back to the hotel and the next morning he wakes up and goes to readers room to apologise for embarrassing her and tells her it wasn’t just the alcohol talking and he actually likes her and she says the same thing and they end up having sex and he’s all cute and sweet with reader cause it’s her first time and later they meet up with the rest of the guys for lunch and they’re both covered in hickeys and gustav is like “finally the tension was getting too much” and georg is so awkward and he’s just like “nah i’m not dealing with this i’m pretending it’s not happening” but on the way back from lunch georg puts his arm around tom while there walking and is like “she is my little princess if you do anything to hurt her i’ll hit you with your own car” and then goes to walk next to reader and tom is just smiling like an idiot because of how much he loves her

sorry! kind of..

tw: alcohol, drinking, smut, p in v, unprotected sex

you are stood awkwardly beside your brother, georg, as he speaks to a few random guys. your fingers are wrapped around his bicep, gripping tightly as if that'll calm your nerves. you lift your cup to take a sip, only to find that it's empty. you let out a sigh, tapping georg. the brunette boy looks down at you. a brow raised.

"i'm gonna go get a refill." you tell him. he nods, nudging your arm. you push your way through drunken bodies, muttering soft, useless 'sorrys' to the people who only glare. when you reach the bar, you throw out the used cup into a nearby trash can.

"what can i get for you, ma'am?" the bartender asks - an older gentleman with a neatly trimmed, graying beard. you tell him what you want and he gladly begins making it.

you hand over the cash in exchange for the drink. taking a sip of the bitter alcohol, you jump a bit upon feeling a tap on your shoulder. you turn to see the familiar dreadhead, a crooked smirk on his lips.

"oh, tom. you scared me." you chuckle nervously, your eyebrows furrowing a bit. thank god for the dim, colored lights to hide the blush on your cheeks. "sorry 'bout that." tom grins, taking a gulp of his drink. "whatcha doin'? wheres georg?" he questions.

"oh, he's just like..over there." you say, pointing across the room to the left. "and i just came to get another drink." you add.

tom nods, leaning against the bar counter, his hand finding its way to the small of your back. your breath hitches in your throat, your face becoming warm. you look down at the glass in your hands, staring at it as if the tan liquid inside is the most interesting thing.

"so, you having fun so far?" tom asks, his tongue fiddling with the metal ring in his lip. something he does that drives you absolutely crazy.

you nod, smiling softly yet awkwardly. "yeah. you?" you ask, gaining the courage to meet his eyes. his stupid smile grows, his own head nodding. "ja. even more now that i've found you." he flirts, licking his lips as his eyes trail up and down.

you snicker, rolling your eyes a bit. you're about to speak, but another voice beats you to it. "stop running off, tom." the gothic twin scolds, crossing his arms.

"oh, hi, y/n." bill says as his eyes land on you, a small smile on his lips. "hi." you reply, giving a tiny, awkward wave.

"but seriously, tom. you already tripped over air in the lobby. you were supposed to stay by me." bill says, looking back at his drunk, clumsy brother.

tom lets out a sound of annoyance — like the noise a whiny toddler would make when its denied ice cream for dinner. "i am fine." he says.

bill rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter beside his twin. within a random conversation, georg and gustav eventually join alongside the twins and you.

tom's hand has not once moved from your back, now rubbing small circles with his palm. suddenly, a man walks up to the five of you, holding a camera and a microphone.

he begins asking the boys a few questions about their music, girls, blah blah blah. you think the man is ignoring your presence — you hope he is. your heart stops when the man asks tom a question.

"and who is this? a girlfriend maybe?" the man says with a grin, his annoyingly white veneers on display.

you glance at tom with wide eyes, silently hoping he'll just brush off the comment. instead, tom grins, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

his arm rests around your shoulder, pulling your body against his. "ja. this is my girlfriend, y/n." he says, thinking he's the funniest guy alive.

your heart is anxiously beating rapidly. you look over at georg with horrified eyes, faintly shaking your head. when the interviewer is finally finished, he walks off, giddy to see how much money he'll make off of the video he caught.

you turn to tom with nervous eyes. "why would you say that?" you ask him quietly. tom giggles, nudging you. "it's fine, y/n. it was a joke." he says.

he smirks again, leaning over a bit. "or maybe you'd like to be my girlfriend?" you've never been more embarrassed in your life.

you freeze, glancing at the three boys around you. they all look as if they pity you, their lips tightly sealed. georg looks extra annoyed with tom.

then, bill sighs, grabbing tom's arm and leading him away. "come on. we're leaving." he says. you, gustav and georg just watch silently, knowing that tom is going to be scolded by his brother.

you wake up with a headache, the sun beating harshly on your face from the window. you sit up, rubbing your eyes. you glance over at the clock, almost rolling your eyes at the time. 10:45 it reads.

you take a minute to fully gain consciousness before slipping out from under the covers. you walk over to the bathroom, entering it. you brush out your mess of hair and then brush your teeth. you wipe the suds from your mouth, washing out the sink. you grab a towel and dampen it with warm water, washing your face.

you go back out into the bedroom, grabbing clothes from your bag. you're about to change, but a knock on the hotel rooms door catches your attention.

you walk over to it, looking through the peephole. when you see tom, a wave of remembrance and embarrassment washes over you. you mentally prepare yourself before unlocking and opening the door.

"oh. hi." you say awkwardly. "hallo..er..i need to talk to you." the boy mutters, seemingly trying hard to keep eye contact. you've never seen tom look so embarrassed.

you let out a deep breath, opening the door wider for him to come in. once he's in, he goes over to your bed and takes a seat. you close the door before sitting down beside him.

an awkward tension is filling the room, practically suffocating the two of you. after a little while, tom speaks up, his eyes on his fidgety hands.

"i'm sorry for embarrassing you last night. i shouldn't have said that.." he apologizes. "it's okay-" your words of forgiveness are cut off by him.

"but i also do really like you. i wasn't..completely joking when i asked that." he admits, raising his head so his dark eyes can meet yours.

you swallow thickly, not really knowing what to say. suddenly, a rush of confidence rushes over you, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. your eyes close as you lean in, pressing your lips to his.

tom's own eyes close, his lips lifting into a grin into the kiss. his hand trails down your side, gently squeezing your hip. you let out a sigh against his lips and suddenly, your gently pushed onto your back.

tom hovers over you, the kiss never breaking. your hand moves to the back of his head, your fingers carefully gripping his dreadlocks. an accidental tug of his hair elicits a soft groan from his throat.

"sorry.." you mutter apologetically, thinking you may have hurt him. "no, no. keep doing that. please." tom adds breathlessly against your mouth.

you nod, continuing to cautiously tug the boys locks. he removes his lips from yours, now trailing kisses down your neck, softly sucking and biting.

a soft moan leaves your lips as his tongue hits a sensitive spot. he smirks softly, sucking to leave a mark. shivers run up your spine as his hand begins trailing up your shirt.

you begin getting nervous as his hand nears your breast, but you don't stop him. a gasp leaves your lips as he cups one of your boobs with his large hand, gently massaging. your back arches, a quiet whine leaving your lips as his index and thumb roll your sensitive nipple, getting it hard.

"so good, schatz.." he mutters against your neck, leaving trails of hickeys. he gently takes your shirt off, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. you cross your arms over your chest, embarrassed to be nude in front of the guy you've liked for years.

"hey..it's okay..lemme look." he whispers softly, carefully removing your arms. he lets out a shaky breath at the sight of your bare tits. a smile grows on his lips as his cock grows in his pants.

"beautiful.." he compliments, taking one of your nipples between his lips. the soft sucking and licking of his tongue causes you to whimper, the heat growing between your legs.

he slips off his own shirt, the cloth joining alongside yours on the floor. his hands move down to his belt, unbuckling it. the harsh, yet careful sucking of his mouth creates purple marks around your breasts and neck.

his pants hit the floor and a gasp escapes both of you as his hardened member — strained by his boxers — rubs against your clothed crotch. he presses his lips to yours again, removing your sleep shorts.

his fingers move to the hem of your panties, going to take them off. you gently take his wrist, stopping him. "wait..i've..never done this before.." you admit quietly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

tom's eyebrow raises, his eyes trailing up and down your perfect body. "you're a virgin?" he asks, completely dumbfounded by the fact that someone as hot as you is a virgin.

you nod and tom grins. "cute." he snickers, kissing you. "i'll be gentle. just tell me if you wanna stop." he says reassuringly against your lips, his voice muffled.

you let out a shaky breath, letting him remove your baby purple underwear, revealing your bare pussy to him. he almost moans at the sight, his fingers quickly removing his plaid boxers.

his cock springs out, standing tall and hard. you gasp upping feeling his naked shaft brush against your wet cunt. he lines his tip up at your entrance, kissing your shoulder before slowly pushing in.

you gasp, feeling your walls stretch to this newly found girth. your nails dig into his back as he bottoms out, filling you up. he gives you a reassuring look, pushing some hair out of your face as he begins pulling out.

you whimper as he begins thrusting slowly, his movements careful. he knows he's big and he knows your new to this, so he's extra careful not to hurt you in any way.

"f-faster.." you mutter, desire building up. tom complies, picking up the pace of his hips movements. "mm, fuck, liebe.." he groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

you moan, your legs wrapping around his waist as his dick slides in and out of your tight hole. "s-so good n' tight f'me.." he mutters.

you bury your face against his shoulder, kissing it. you trail up to his jaw, sucking lightly to leave marks. "oh, tom, fuck..!" you moan close to his ear.

your sounds of pleasure encourage him, his thrusts getting a bit rougher. you gasp loudly as his tip hits a certain spot in you, your cunts walls squeezing around him. "right there!" you moan.

tom nods, his cock jerking against your g-spot with every thrust. "sh-shit. gonna cum.." the boy warns, his humps becoming sloppy and desperate.

"me t-too-" your words are barley out before your release washes over you. you cry out as you come undone around tom's cock.

the tightening of your pussy is enough for tom to reach his high. he groans, his thick seed shooting into you. his thrusts continue, his member fucking his cum into you.

he pulls out with a grunt, panting. he lays on top of you, pressing kisses all around your face. "you alright?" he asks, stroking your cheek.

you nod, breathing heavily. "yeah, yeah i'm good. that was..amazing." you mutter, nuzzling into him.

"come on. let's get you cleaned up." he says, helping you stand up. he leads you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet lid as he starts up a shower, grabbing two towels.

after a warm shower filled with giggles and kisses, the two of you get dressed for the day. bill had messaged the group chat about meeting in the dining room for lunch, so you two head down for that.

the three other boys are already sat at a table, menus in hands. you and tom take seats beside each other, acting casual.

tom and you completely forgot about the dark purple marks littering your necks until gustav points it out. "guessing she forgave you?" he asks, raising his brows as he looks at tom.

tom smirks, shrugging. "somethin' like that." he responds, his hand finding your thigh under the table. you glance over at georg to see him shaking his head, rolling his eyes.

you hold back a giggle, placing your hand on tom's. the five of you eventually get your food and eat it, making small talk as you do.

on your ways back to the rooms, tom is pulled aside by georg, his arm around his shoulder. "you hurt her and i'm shaving that mop off your head while you're sleeping." he threatens, feeling protective over his younger sister.

of course, tom is a bit intimidated, but he just giggles, nodding. "i'd never hurt her."

#tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #gustav schäfer #georg listing #tokio hotel #2000s #fanfic #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut

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yandere-romanticaa · 7 months

Text

.ೃ࿐ crazy in love.

❝ it's the way that you know what i thought i know, it's the beat that my heart skips when I'm with you, but i still don't understand, just how your love can do what no one else can. ❞

SONG: crazy in love by sofia karlberg.

yandere! al-haitham x gn! reader.

warning for mentions for past suggestive activities. this is a proper fic version of this thing here because I originally wanted it to be longer but was too tired to continue it... but you people still loved it.

Fun fact - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022!

Chattering sailors went on and on as you stared emptily at the hustling and bustling city in front of you, the various lights and lanterns bringing Port Ormos into life as people happy walked on with each other, eager to either finish their duties and go home or they can finally unwind and relax with their friends and family, a promise of either good food, drinks or both waiting for them.

Biting on your lower lip you narrowed your eyes, bitter feelings taking over your entire feeling from top to bottom.

Oh, what you'd give to be in their shoes right now.

Pulling your arms closer towards your body you huddled yourself for some warmth as you tilted your head slightly to the side, the ocean view and the chilly wind being the only ones to greet you. The scent of salt dominated your senses as you closed your eyes and sighed, subconsciously relaxing just a little bit as you accidentally imagined his hand on your back. The memory of his warm knuckles brought you back down to earth as you shuddered, the memory etched in your mind as you desperately tried to shake your head, a pathetic attempt of trying to forget. Even while you weren't with him Al-Haitham still managed to dominate your mind, whether you wanted him there or not.

With a quiet yell only you could hear you plopped yourself back on your feet, your feet almost giving in and falling to the ground had the strong grip around your waist not been holding you in place. Pure shock was written on your face as you turned your head once more and was met with the person you least wanted to see right now.

Al-Haitham said nothing as he carefully brought you back up, your arms pressed firmly against his chest as he slightly lowered his head down to your level, his nose lightly touching your own. A furious blush dusted your cheeks as you retreated back from him, fiery rage burning deep in your heart as you turned your back and practically ran away from the man. Before you could get too far though Al-Haitham managed to catch up to you, his arms tightly gripping your wrists as he lead you to a dark alleyway, determination shining bright in his eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Hah, what a stupid question. You were tempted to just spit on him.

"Why am I avoiding you? The nerve you have..." you replied with a loud scoff, absolute venom coating your words. This attitude would usually be a little amusing to him but Al-Haitham was not in the mood to play games, not now at least. He needed a straight answer out of you and he planned to get it one way or another. With one hand he was now holding both of your wrists high above your head, back against the wall as the thumb from his other free hand traced tiny patterns across your lips.

"I have the right to ask you know. There used to be a time when you could hardly keep your hands to yourself and now you..."

He suddenly retreated his hand back, a barely visible inkling of shock visible in his eyes.

He didn't think you'd try and bite him. And clearly, you were out to make it painful.

You were downright growling at him now, screams of anger threatening to spill out of your mouth and second now as the two of you remained still in your places, the cover of darkness being your only companion for the time being. With the ounce of composure you had left you finally found the right words and said:

🍒 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @universal-rose, @juuuuuj101010, @mod-kisa-blog, @morigumy, @b10h4z4rd

"You, Al-Haitham, are infuriating. All you do is make me miserable and once you're done with me you just toss me away like the most worthless piece of garbage in the whole wide world and then have the nerve to be displeased with me whenever I leave? Tell me, tell me dear Al-Haitham, just where is the logic in that?"

Alhaitham stood back, which allowed some distance between the two of you. Despite the schooled expression on his face his jaw was a dead giveaway. The way it tensed up could cut diamonds but you didn't mind.

You took pleasure in making him as uncomfortable as you possibly could.

Despite the awkward tension in the air, he clearly wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon. Just what was he trying to achieve here? Whatever happened between you had vanished, the spark was gone. At the start you found Alhaitham attractive, very much so even. Having one too many glasses of wine gave you confidence you didn't even know you had which allowed you to make your feelings more... vocal.

Alhaitham made sure to pull out as many different sounds out of you that night, like a twisted symphony of wicked pleasure.

Ever since then, he has been hot on your trail. Constantly sending you gifts, letters, books, trinkets that you didn't even dream of affording - just how rich was he?!

Still, the harder you pushed, the more he came back running. Like a lost pup who was just waiting for his treat but you, the cruel master, was refusing to budge.

It was a tiresome song and dance that seemed to have no end in sight.

He wasn't going to leave you be, no matter how hard you tried to run away. That was your punishment for ever allowing yourself to get so close to him.

#al haitham x reader #yandere al haitham #al haitham agenda #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #genshin impact #genshin al haitham #al haitham #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 3

Another part already! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings! Some kissing! Dracule isn't shy about what he wants.

You don't remember falling asleep, but wherever you are, you're warm and cozy, just a little confused as to why your bed is moving. Up and down you go, and it's enough to pull your sluggish brain to wakefulness and crack your eyes open. The sight that greets you is one that you could definitely get used to.

Ringed yellow eyes stare down at you, a fond, but exasperated look adorning Dracule's handsome features. He shifts under you, and you realize that he's probably uncomfortable with you draped all over him like this, “How long was I asleep for?”

“Only a couple of hours,” Mihawk murmurs and taps the side of your leg, “Move for me, Dear.”

He watches as you carefully remove yourself from his lap, not touching him more than you need to. Mihawk stands and sighs in relief when his back pops. He steps by you, stopping for half a second to press a sleepy kiss to your forehead before he slips off to the bathroom.

You make yourself useful and go to the storage room to dig up a shirt that would most likely fit Dracule and that pair of socks you'd forgotten about. He has emerged from the bathroom by the time you come out of the back room, and you hand over the things you had gathered.

“I checked your jacket. It's still pretty damp,” you inform him and turn away from the well-groomed man as he slips the white shirt over his shoulder. Mihawk only bothers to button the bottom four buttons, leaving his chest exposed.

“Nothing to worry about, Darling. I have others on my ship,” he rumbles and then steps towards the kitchen, “I'll put the kettle on, if you don't mind?”

It makes your heart flutter to see him so comfortable in your home, so you nod quickly, “Absolutely. Like I said, Darcule. Make yourself at home,” you assure him, and he slips you a tiny smirk before disappearing around the corner.

Hank flops down beside you, giving you big pitiful eyes, and you crouch to pet his shaggy head, “I know, Buddy. I don't really know what I'm doing, either.”

Which is terribly true. You've never had a man treat you like this before, as if you were his equal, and it made you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.

“Darling, how do you like yours?” Mihawk's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you stand to meander to the kitchen.

“I'll show you,” You step close and pull your sugar tin close and proceed to dump an obscene amount of sugar into the mug. When you glance at him, Mihawk is giving you a look as if you've suddenly grown a second head, “What?”

The warlord huffs, “No wonder you're so sweet,” he quips with a twist of his lips, and you gasp in mock outrage. You watch as he proceeds to put nothing in his tea and simply sips the blend itself.

“Well, no wonder you're so bitter,” you tease back and sputter when Mihawk flicks you in the forehead. It doesn't hurt, but it's enough to have you glaring up at him, lips curling in a mischievous smile.

“Don't call me bitter. I like plenty of sweet things,” Dracule rumbles, and you flush as you recall his words from the first time the two of you met.

Mihawk enjoys the red that tints your cheeks. Likes the way your eyes go all half lidded when he whispers honeyed words to you. A cruel smirk plays across his lips and he steps close, one hand curling around your hip, and you can feel his breath against your skin, “Things like deserts, and candies,” his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “Things like you.”

The room grows cold, but Mihawk does not move despite the rising chill. That same tension is back from earlier, and it makes you tremble and not from your devil fruit. His hand flexes against your hip, tugging you a tiny bit closer to his furnace of a body, and you gasp when you stumble forward.

Your hands are freezing against his chest, and Dracule lifts his free hand to gently grasp both of your, squeezing softly.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” you admit quietly and stare at the way this beautiful man holds your hands like you are something precious.

Mihawk stares down at the top of this young woman's head. He doesn't know why, and he doesn't know when, maybe when she had offered him tea the first time, but a connection had formed between the two of you. One that he didn't want to shy away from. You were something special in this world, hidden away from the drama and evil that tainted the Grand Line. Dracule has always gotten the things that he wants. This would be no different.

“I won't lead you astray, Little One,” Mihawk murmurs, voice rough, and he smooths his hand up from your hip to cradle your jaw. He lifts your face up, and you can't help but stare into his ringed eyes. His lips curl into a soft smile so small that you wouldn't have caught it if you hadn't been paying attention. His thumb smooths over your cheek, “Do you trust me?”

You search his gaze and see nothing but fondness for you in the yellow depths, and you find that you do trust this man.

“Yes.”

The smile widens on Dracule's face, “Good,” he whispers, and then he is leaning down to close the distance. He tightens his grip on your hand when you whimper against his lips, eyes falling shut so that he can focus on the way you feel against him.

Your lips slot against his perfectly, but it's your first kiss, so it's enough to take your breath away and have you flushed to the roots of your hair when Dracule breaks the kiss. You breathe deeply through your nose, and he lets go of your hands to wrap his arm around your waist and press you close to his chest. His lips find your brow and rest there before he speaks up.

“Was that okay, Darling?” He asks softly, and you are quick to nod your head. You feel him leave one last kiss to your forehead, and then he is letting you go to stare down at you, “Verbally, please.”

You grin up at him, “That was my first kiss,” you say and giggle when you watch Mihawk's eyes darken a shade at the information. He knew that you were sheltered, innocent even, but knowing this about you only makes Mihawk want to keep you hidden away even more. Dracule knows that he is selfish.

“I'm honored to be the one to take it,” He quips, and you roll your eyes at him and carefully step away.

“My books didn't do it justice,” You mention off handedly and gesture to a stack of said books, “I don't have a lot of romantic ones though, only the ones that have washed up on shore.”

Mihawk huffs, “I can assure you that your books will not hold a candle to me,” pride in himself drips from his voice and you can't decide if what he says worries you or not.

The rest of the day is spent in one another company. You show him your garden this time and explain which plant is which. Mihawk learns that you have become an excellent fisherman since that was your main source of protein and agrees to stay for dinner when the sun begins to set.

It's disgustingly domestic watching you dither around the kitchen of your small home, but Dracule is more content than he has been in a very long time. The smell of baking bread and grilled fish fills the cottage, and he can't help the small smile that plays along his lips. This was the start of a new chapter in his life, one that he would gladly share with you.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @djbumblebee

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #opla mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #opla dracule mihawk #fluff #kissing #peppermint tea

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 5 months

Text

Merry Christmas, Darling

Word Count: 1,200 (Tiny for me, but I haven't written in almost a year so forgive me.)

Summary: Ominis is going to miss you over the holidays. || Ominis Gaunt x reader|| Hurt but with plenty of comfort.

Warnings: This is as fluffy as a good sweater.

In the eyes of Ominis Gaunt, Christmas was a complicated thing. He loved it. Truly. Though, he'd never actually had one until he was eleven years old - when Anne and Sebastian Sallow invited him to their uncle's cottage in Feldcroft. They asked him to be there, they told him all these stories about how muggles celebrate the holiday, and their modest Christmas dinner was the best thing he'd ever tasted. The whole house felt so warm.

And...

They gave him gifts.

No one had ever done that.

He hadn't had anything for them that first time, but they told him that was alright. Of course, he had remedied his ignorance every year afterward and for three more blissful years, everything was perfect.

Until fifth year, when Ominis' only Christmas gift was comforting Anne through her nightmares – frightful visions of a goblin disemboweling itself in front of her. And her brother's manic grin.

Ominis was sixteen now, and Sebastian was gone. Anne was too.

In all his time at school, he'd never gone home for winter break and he didn't intend to now. Even if he had nowhere to go instead.

Because you were leaving him too.

He'd be, once again, alone.

You'd be going home to your own family to spend Christmas surrounded by love and warmth. Not that he wasn't happy for you, he was! But you wouldn't be with him. It wasn't your fault. You'd begged your parents to let him come along.

But why, oh why, would they ever approve? How could they possibly want him – a Gaunt – in their household?

"That family has a reputation, Y/N." They'd said.

Well, they were right. And he was bitter. And he was sad. And he just wanted to spend Christmas with you. Why was that too much to ask?

He heard you sigh next to him. The sound brought him back to reality. You hadn't left for home yet. You'd leave in the morning. For now, however, you were curled up against him on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. The flames crackled and roared and he so adored the scent of pine and applewood burning. You hadn’t left him yet. He could still feel you.

Your cheek against his shoulder. Your hand in his. You smelled like peppermint.

“I wish you could come with me,” You whispered. And you didn’t say you wished you could stay. Because you loved your family and he was so happy that you did. He wished he had the same luxury.

“As do I,” He said. He tried to smile.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I hope you will.” He knew he’d miss you so much more.

He felt you shift, resting your forehead against his arm now, stroking from his forearm to his hand. You drew in a breath.

“Greeting cards have all been sent… the Christmas rush is through. But I still have one wish to make, a special one for you.” The tune was slow and you sang it so softly. He’d be the only one in the common room to hear it. You didn’t have the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, but in that moment, you sounded like an angel. Ominis squeezed your hand tighter.

“Merry Christmas, darling. We're apart, that's true. But I can dream, and in my dreams, I'm Christmas-ing with you.”

“That’s a very nice thought.” He interrupted, unable to stop a smile from tugging at the corner of his lips. You laughed and kept singing.

“Holidays are joyful. There's always something new. But every day's a holiday. When I'm near to you.” He ducked his head and blushed, and not just a little bit. See, you were one of those people who never said a word you didn’t mean - unlike him. You were always so sincere.

“Oh, how flattering.”

You kissed the back of his hand.

“The lights on my tree, I wish you could see. I wish it every day.”

“Why would I need them when I have you?” He murmured. As if you weren’t doing enough, you leaned in to kiss his cheek. You were warm. You’d take your warmth with you.

“Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you and to say that I wish you Merry Christmas. Happy New Year too. I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve. I wish I were with you.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, grabbed your soft, warm hands, and pulled you up against him. You were wearing his sweater. It was far too big for you so he had to go searching for your hands in its sleeves, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. One arm around your waist, yours around his neck, your hand in his.

“Dance with me?” He breathed. “Just once more… before you go.”

And sure, you wouldn’t be leaving him forever. But it would feel like longer.

You laughed that sweet laugh of yours and he knew that if he could bottle the atmosphere around them, that emotion on his tongue would keep him warm through the winter. He held you tighter, trying to memorize every inch, every layer of your scent. There was peppermint, and cinnamon, chocolate, and pine. He loved it all. You smelled like the only home he had left. When you were gone, your scent was all he’d have of you. Your family was poor as dirt. Ominis didn’t care, but your parents wouldn’t allow you any money to spend on him of all people. You were the only gift he wanted now anyway. Your presence alone was too much to ask, yet you gave it so willingly.

“Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you and to say that I wish you a Merry Christmas. Happy New Year too. I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve, I wish I were with you.” You stood up on your tip-toes to whisper to him. Your hand found its way into his hair. “I wish I were with you.”

His breath hitched and what was a dance collapsed into a longing embrace. He held you as tight as he could, burying his face in your shoulder. Though he wasn’t one to be so cavalier with expressions of emotion, he couldn’t help but dip his head to nip at your collarbone. The mark he knew he’d leave wasn’t for him. He just… didn’t want you to forget, was all. And he had to leave more kisses - a trail of them along your perfectly smooth throat. He hoped the taste of your skin would keep his cheeks burning through the January freeze.

You were the one to kiss his lips. When you pulled away, you placed your hands on his cheeks and rubbed your nose against his.

“Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas…” You whispered.

He sighed.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

That sweater of his that you were wearing… after wishing you farewell at the train station, he’d find it folded on his bed when he got back. It smelled like you. A note in Braile accompanied it.

“To keep you warm until I return. Wear it. (I cast a preservation charm on it this morning.)”

He did wear it. And your scent on the wool didn’t fade until you returned and tugged it off him.

This fic is dedicated to @witchcraftandgeekness for telling me to f#ck everybody. Not in the sexy way.

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czrpenters · 1 year

Text

sam carpenter nsfw alphabet

pairings: sam carpenter x fem!reader.

masterlist | request rules.

a - aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Sam is the type of girl who will literally do anything for you. Anything. If you wanted a glass of water, she would get up to fetch you some. If you felt hot, she would turn on the AC immediately. Sometimes she would literally exaggerate so much, to the point where you had to make her stay with you instead of going to buy you some water bottles after you've fucked, because you guys' were running out of them.

"But you said you were thirsty, baby..." She would whine like a baby when she couldn't take care of you.

b - bodypart (their favorite part of their partners body)

Sam loves everything about you, so it is pretty hard for her to think about picking a favorite spot on your body. But, if she had to choose, she would say your eyes. She can read you pretty well by then, especially read your eyes; she can tell if you are sad, angry, horny, anxious. Just by looking at them.

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She loves your taste more than anything. It's what drives her the most when you're fucking; she mostly wants to make you cum so she can taste it. It's bitter, a little bit sour even, and she would taste you everyday if she could.

d - dirty secret

Sam wil never, ever tell you this, but she would literally die if one day you called her Mommy. It's something that she would only tell you if you were the one that brought it up, otherwise she will carry that secret to the grave with her.

e - experience (how much do they have?)

She definetly has some experience, more than you. Boys, girls, you name it. And your lack of it never was an issue to her; in fact, she loved teaching you everything she knew about sex.

f - favorite position

Every position where she gets to see your face are her favorites. Although, when she's feeling a little bit angrier at the moment, she'll definetly want something where she could slap your ass, or your face. All fours is a must, as well.

g - goofy (how are they in the moment? are they more serious or humorous?)

She takes it very seriously, but not in a bad way. She just gets too focused in making you feel good, and you enjoy that about her. Even in times where she feels rougher, she's always serious.

h - hair (how well groomed they are, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Sam prefers to keep it all trimmed, most of the times she just wax everything off for convenience, as well.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Really depends on her mood. And depends on you, of course. If you sit on her lap, kiss her slowly and ask nicely, she'll have the most romantic night with you. Candles, music, you name it. Everything that you love, she'll do. You just have to ask. She absolutely needs to know how you're feeling the entire time when you're having these romantic nights. "Is this good?", "Am I hurting you, baby?", "I'm gonna put another one in, okay?". You felt like a princess every damn time.

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh, she does it more than she can admit it. I mean, you're a busy girl, she's a busy girl, you both don't always have time to be intimate and that's fine to her. But sometimes it gets harder than she expected, and she literally has to lock herself in the tiny bathroom of the diner she worked at, just to get some relief.

k - kinks (one or more of their kinks)

She likes to play it rough. Bondages, wax play, strap-ons. And slapping. That is her weak spot. Anywhere she can slap you, she will. In your ass, your thigh, your face, especially your pussy. She likes causing you pain, but still worries about you all the time. You both had a safe word that, thankfully, was never used, but still; Sam knew that she could be a little too much when she was horny, and she would hate hurting you in a way that you didn't liked it.

l - location (favorite places to do it)

Sam isn't the number one fan of having sex in public places. She liked making you scream, she enjoyed the privacy. She would only consider if you really, really wanted to; otherwise, no.

m - motivation (what turns them on)

Unironically, you. Anything you do. If you wore a shorter skirt, she was down. If you tied your hair, she got wet. It wasn't hard to get her in the mood, you just pretty much had to exist. But something that really, really gets her going, is when you ask for it. If you got home from work, wanting for Sam to fuck the stress out of you, she will immediately do so. And she will do it like she has a fucking PhD in sex. Or in the middle of sex, when she teases you a little bit just to hear you say "Please". Being in control makes her crazy.

n - no (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Honestly, Sam is down to try almost anything, except if it was anything that you didn't want to do. Even if it was something that she personally wanted to try. She would ask you once, and if you said no, she would never bring it up again.

o - oral (preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.)

I'm not gonna lie, Sam is pretty talented with her mouth, but there was something about having you down on her that really makes her go crazy. She loves how good you're with her, how you know exactly the right spots. And it's funny because she was the one who thought you all of that, she felt like a proud teacher most of the times. She praised you everytime, saying stuff like "You're such a good girl, baby...", "You're a fast learner, huh?".

p - pace (fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Like I've said, it really depends. If she's feeling romantic, slow. If she's feeling angry, rough. And sometimes she would do both at the same time, surprisingly.

q - quickie (their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

She never really enjoyed quickies, to be honest. It was a habit that came with you guys' relationship. Specifically, it came when you both were alone in the house, horsing around, when you said jokingly (enphasis on the joke part) that she couldn't make you cum before Tara got home (which had just texted you saying she was 5 minutes away from the apartment). Like the competitive girl that she is, she took it as a challenge. And spoiler alert: she did make you cum (in 3 minutes).

r - risk (are they okay with experimenting, do they take risks, etc)

Sam is down to try anything, you just needed to ask her. She's just so whipped.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long they usually last)

For real, she can go for hours. Sometimes she just needs some 5 minute breaks in between rounds, but she can go as long as you want her to. She's there to please you, after all.

t - toys (do they own any? do they use them?)

You guys call it "The Collection". The amount of toys that you guys bought over the years was embarrassingly high. Strap-ons, vibrators, ropes and chains, you name it. The last purchase she made was a bullet vibrator type of thing with a remote controller. She was having way too much fun with that.

u - unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

She only teases you just to hear you plead, because in the back of her mind, she hates to not give you what you want. She loves spoiling you with everything, but she also loved it when you asked for stuff.

v - volume (how loud they are, what kind of noises do they make, etc)

She isn't too loud, she believes. Sometimes, when you guys are alone, she allows herself to be a little bit over the edge, but not always. She prefers to moan for you, and only you. But when it was her turn, she just wanted to make you scream her name. And also, Sam had the filhtiest mouth you'd ever seen, honestly. She would say the nastiest things while you were fucking and that honestly got you more turned on than ever.

w - wild card (random headcanon)

Sam's personal goal, everytime, was to make you cry. She loved making you feel so good, but so good, that it made tears roll down your face.

x - x-ray (what's going on under their clothing)

Sam loves to wear matching underwear, and loves when you do the same.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not that high, but also definetly not low. She was a little bit over the middle.

z - ZZZ.. (do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Almost never. She loves watching you sleep. Cuddling you, kissing all over your face, making sure that she didn't stepped over the line with your body. She would only sleep if she knew for sure you were alright.

⠀

#sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader #scream #scream vi #melissa barrera #sam carpenter #sam carpenter smut #melissa barrera smut #nsfwalphabet

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spiderrrling · 2 years

Text

Little traces of you - Eddie Munson x reader

concept - you've just moved to college and you're really missing your boyfriend, and it doesn't help the shirt he gave you doesn't smell like him anymore

a/n - just a soft little drabble done on my phone because im in a fluff mood

"Pumpkin? Did you fall asleep?" his voice was soft into his end of the phone, spoken into a soft hushed whisper into cold staticy plastic, and it echoed in your end.

He heard your breathing slow into long deep breaths, if you had fallen asleep he'd stay on the phone with you all night just to hear you breathe. Close his eyes and imagine the weight of you pressed into the mattress next to him. If he concentrated really hard he swore to himself he could smell the trace remnants of you in the fabric of his sheets.

But you weren't in Hawkins, you were two hours away in Indiana, tucked away in a tiny and cramped worn down dorm instead of being tucked into bed resting against his chest like you used to.

"No- I'm here," you finally answered him, your voice muffled as your face pressed into the shirt you was adamant about keeping among your pillows. Eddies shirt.

And not just any one of his shirt, his and subsequently your favorite shirt of his that he had given you so he wouldn't feel so far away.

You felt ridiculous, like a child clinging to a safety blanket or their favorite stuffed animal. But instead it was a well worn and loved concert shirt sympathetically donated by your metalhead boyfriend who in that moment felt impossibly far away.

Only two weeks away from him, and yet you had still called him almost every night. Blowing off parties and get togethers just to hear his voice through the statics tones of the phone.

Never in your life had you been homesick, but now it was an overwhelming feeling that shook your whole body.

"What happened sweet thing?" Of course he was able to tell something was wrong, even without having to see your face, being miles away in a completely different town, he knew something was wrong.

"Nothing..." you muttered back to him, shifting around in your bed hopelessly, the bed which never seemed to be able to get completely comfortable in.

"You're gonna have to do better than that of you want to convince me." Eddies ring clad finger was endlessly twirled in the curl of the phone chord, desperately wishing it was your hair he was playing with instead.

"It doesn't-" you felt ridiculous admitting it and you had to fight the words to come out, "it doesn't smell like you anymore."

Even when pressing the soft fabric against your nose you could barely smell the hints of his heavy cologne and bitter cigarette smoke. The smell of Eddie, the smell of home.

It felt as if he was slowly drifting away from you, dwindling with every passing second and you had to fight to keep tears from spilling from your eyes

The pang that echoed through Eddies chest was overwhelming. He could practically hear your lip quivering through the phone, and all he wanted to do was to be there for you, with you.

"Wanna hear something silly?" Eddie shifted in his bed, laying flat on his back with the phone pressed to his ear, he didn't wait for your answer. "I have one of your shirts."

"You have one of my shirts?" you hiccuped into the phone, giving up on trying to hide it anymore, you heard Eddie's laugh on the other side, and it only made you want to cry harder.

"Yeah... I kinda took it from one of your boxes before you left," his admission soothed you a little bit, it was the most Eddie thing to do, "it doesn't smell like you anymore either."

"Eddie?" you asked carefully, biting at your anxiously, you didn't want to seem clingy or needy, even though that might have been exactly what you were.

"Yes Pumpkin?"

"I really miss you"

"I miss you more"

"Tell me I'll see you soon... Please?"

"Say the word sweetheart and I'll pack the car and leave right now, be there in two hours, an hour and a half if I'm speedy,"

"No- no you don't need to do that just soon?"

He was your everything, just as you were his. And being away from someone who inhabited every part of your life was more difficult than you ever imagined it would be.

"How about next weekend?"

Nine days.

"Yeah- yeah next weekend."

"Do you think you can get some rest?" His voice was seeped heavy in sleep, and you could feel the desperation nipping at your eyelids as they grew heavy, and you hummed softly back to him.

"I love you," when he said it, it felt like a promise.

"I love you too,"

"I'll see you soon," Eddie said after a few moments of silence, but you were already long asleep.

Three days afterwards a package waited for you on your doorstep which was... strange? You weren't expecting anything and your mother surre wouldn't be sending you care packages this soon.

But as soon as the package was within the grasp of your fingers and you could read the name of the sender you practically ripped the box apart.

The letter tucked inside hard you on the verge of tears and you read it as you pressed the new shirt to your nose.

This time, a black and white long sleeve hellfire shirt was carefully packed away, and the smell was almost overwhelming.

"You're welcome," was the first thing he was when he picked up the phone that night.

"Thank you," you whispered back, the heavy feeling in your chest was still there but it had eased.

"I'll bring you another one when I come up and visit,"

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x read #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader

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riaki · 6 months

Text

— last train at 25 o' clock | suguru geto x reader fluff(???)/light angst @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat please take this bc coffee shop geto is gonna take a bit

it's 1am in the morning, the train platform's a ghost town, and the hum of the vending machine is all the noise in the world as you and suguru wait for the last ride home after a mission.

wc : 2.6k cw : brief mentions of blood ; references to hidden inventory arc , shoko typical smoking , probably some other stuff i'm forgettin not proofread!!!! also he may be ooc srry

i cooked this up last minute cus i remembered my promise of posting every weekend last week so my bad if u can tell its rushed lol post hidden inventory pre defection

suguru remembers it like it was yesterday.

the song of summer insects reaches your ear as you clamber up to the train station platform; a pandemonium of cicadas and crickets that sing odes to the full moon in the sky partially curtained by dark clouds and the dew on the grass that's begun to form.

"damn, it's hot." you muttered, wiping your forehead as your arm shot out to grab the dirty railing, white paint cracked and peeled as a splinter pricks your fingers and you flinch. suguru follows after you; a small hum is your acknowledgment.

"careful. shoko doesn't like dealing with splinters," he says from behind you, stepping up the stairs two at a time to straighten up on the train platform, hands in his pockets. “i don’t have reversed curse technique healing either.” there's the smell of a storm in the air, and the lights overhead buzz and flicker with the intermittent beat of a moth's wings. you just give a dip of your head in acknowledgement as you pry your hand away from the railing, the scent of old wood lingering on your hand as you wipe off the dust clinging to your palm on your pants.

(geez, you two have no sense for these types of things.)

suguru holds a hand out, and you take it eagerly to let him pull you up the last step, before politely letting go and slipping it back into his pocket once more. you let out an exhausted sigh and stand up, rubbing your tired eyes as you look around.

the platform is deserted save for the stray cat beneath the station bench, sniffing at a clump of weeds growing from the metal leg. there's a vending machine up against the wall to the elevator, an obnoxious painted 'out of order' sign on the lift's muddy glass doors, stained with dust, dirt, and fingerprints. there's some... creative graffiti on the wall, and a starch yellow section of caution tape flutters in the humid evening wind.

the cat scratches at the concrete floor, and its matted white fur and crystal blue eyes remind you of someone. you glance up at suguru, poking his arm to get his attention.

"look. it's satoru." you huffed, still a little loose for breath as you reach out and grab his shoulder, leaning against him for support. the dark-haired boy just laughs a little, taking his phone out to snap a picture and no doubt send it to the white-haired brat. "i see it." he leans a little closer to you; it's subtle, and you don't notice it, but the way his shoulders sag just so you have an easier time holding on speaks volumes. "don't send it to him! he's probably asleep right now. think it's past his evening sugar high?" you asked, glancing up at him with a tilt of your head.

"most likely. i think he got sent on another solo mission today." there's a tiny bitter bite to suguru's voice that underlines its usual velvetiness; like an ocean current beneath the waves that you only find once you've been dragged underwater. you don't say anything about it, though. the sleeves of his uniform crumple beneath your fingers when they curl into the fabric, a shiver running down your spine as goosebumps spring up on your skin like shroom caps after the summer rain.

suguru is observant.

"you cold? you can have my jacket." it's immediate, and his voice is as smooth as cream silk and marble as he shrugs your hand off (much to your dismay-- shown with a bite to your cheek) to unbutton his uniform jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and offering it to you. when you stand there, feeling a little daze and a lot tired, he just smiles, shoving it in your face with a low chuckle that sounds like honey pouring from a jar.

"you sure? you can hug a cursed spirit if you get cold, 'cus you're not getting it back." you sighed after a moment, reluctantly taking his jacket and tugging it over your shoulders. it's warm, and it smells like his cologne- like some natural incense that soothes your nerves and loosens your body to the marrow in your weary bones. you bury your nose in it and forget to think about the warm hue on your cheeks that you'll later chalk up to the humid air.

"i'm sure." the cat by the bench perks up, staring directly in your direction. it yawns, before bounding away, disappearing behind the vending machine with a flick of its cloud white tail. the machine is missing a few rows of drinks, but the green of a melon soda can that's far too saturated to have a name to the original fruit and the cream and red of a yakult bottle are enough to catch your eyes beneath the harsh light of the display.

"still don't understand how you get cold on a night like this, though." he makes a gesture towards 'this' with one hand, fingers flexing in a way that makes your heart flutter unreasonably.

a moment of silence passes; you can see the distant lights of some prefecture over the hill, and your mind briefly wanders to rainy afternoons, puddles reflecting the red neon of passing cars and distorted faces under plastic umbrellas sandwiched between painted concrete and a dark sky.

"you want a drink? on me, as thanks." you say, breaking the sound of silence and nodding towards the vending machine as you look up at suguru. it takes him a moment to respond, so you use the opportunity to admire his profile; the slope of his nose, the deep hazel of his eyes that shine a copper rust beneath the pale yellow light overhead. his hair is a little messy; it's falling out of its slicked back bun, a product of your earlier fight. there's a scrape on your ankle from tripping through the bush in an attempt to put distance between the curse when you had been engaged earlier; it still stings. there's a tightness to his jaw, you notice- and some part of you wishes you could take it for yourself.

the section of dark hair in front of his face sways as he turns to look down at you, gaze charting the corners of your face (your cheeks look soft, he notes) before he opens his mouth to speak.

one kick to the machine, a disappointed frown when nothing comes out, and two yen bills later, the pop of can tabs fills your ears as condensation seeps into your skin, a pleasant relief from the heaviness of the summer air. it's too much when the cold side of a drink is pressed to your cheek, though-- and you let out a yelp of protest, shooting a quick glare up at suguru, who just laughs it off and takes a sip of his drink.

you down a sip of your own; it's a sweet fruit tea that's your go to whenever it's hot out. sweet, citrusy, like starfruit. it tastes like a summer of youth and a warm blue spring. it's pleasant.

a distant rumble echoes from the dark horizon, and both of your gazes simultaneously snap towards it-- at last, you think. the last train is here. you adjust suguru's jacket around your shoulders, catching a whiff of something that smells like rosemary and new leather as his voice fills your ears.

it's an easy night when you pass the threshold and step into the train car, speckled white floors and blue hard seats greeting you. somewhere, there's a ticket stuffed into one of your pockets; a memento of late evenings that blend into early mornings when there's a bruise on your face and a knick on suguru's wrist that soothe themselves with the harmony of small talk and sensation of fizzling bubbles in cold metal cans as the train jostles you along. you're sitting, and he's standing, one arm on the hangers overhead as you talk about everything and nothing. he catches himself every now and then, watching with minimal interest as the sliding doors part themselves like gateways to the afterlife for ghost passengers. it's not your stop yet; far from it.

"say, suguru-- do you miss going on missions with satoru?" you asked after a moment, fingers drumming against your knees as the automated voice overhead announces the next stop, empty farm plots and tangles of wire passing by as the lights inside cozy houses dim and go off.

he doesn't answer that, so you just look out the window.

(suguru, you gettin' enough sleep? heatstroke?)

"how's the cut on your leg?" he finally murmurs after a moment, his eyelids heavy before he tears his gaze away from a tacky advertising on the wall and back to your scrunched nose.

"annoying." you just sighed, and you watched as he gave a small smile; his eyes fluttering shut, long lashes resting against his cheeks. you wondered if the wings of a butterfly would be heavy enough to weigh them down.

he moves after a second, sitting down one seat away from you in a swift motion and beckoning for you to lift your leg. you comply, not entirely sure where it's going- until he gently rolls the hem of your pant leg up, pressing the cold edge of his half-empty soda to the angry red scratch, and you wince a little before letting out one, long sigh. you melt into the chair, feeling like a senior citizen with a hunched back and one too many shrine visits under a bleached kyoto sun.

"thanks." you mumbled, leaning your head against the window as the train jostles ever so slightly to its own tracked rhythm.

he just hums in response, pulling a worn bandaid out of his pocket; the plastic top has pen smudges on it and the white wax gets caught between his pearly teeth as he tugs it off, taking time to make sure he positions the healing strip properly before flattening it down on your leg.

"shoko makes no sense when she talks about her reversed curse technique, so this'll do." he says quietly, and you let yourself fall into the pool of molasses that comes from his throat as you close your eyes, feeling the dull sensation of pain drain from your muscles and melt away like the first waves of spring and the ripple of lake water as a lone sakura petal disturbs the mirrored blue surface.

"i could learn it." you said after a moment, pressing your lips together in an attempt to snuff out the feeling of his fingers lingering on your skin, toying with the loose edge of the bandaid. he just snorts, and you crack one eye open to glare at him.

the rest of the train ride is spent in silence; you slip in and out of a hazy sleep, and you're faintly aware of the timeline-- somehow, your drink ends up on his lips. your head ends up on his shoulder, and your ears pick up his quickened heartbeat. his warmth is nothing like the humidity that clings to your skin like a layer of smoke and vapor, accompanied by sticky dango and raucous laughter weaving between the sounds of fireworks and the crunch of dirt beneath pairs of geta. he smells like home and his soft hair tickles your face as your little breaths squeeze past your parted lips, a warmth like bumping shoulders and linking fingers seeping into your body like the steady stream of fine sand in an hourglass. a warmth like empty classrooms lit by golden hour; windows cracked open to let in a fresh breeze as the faint smell of cigarette smoke drifts up to the room from the brunette and her lighter beneath the patch of shade from a tree in the courtyard below.

(need a light?)

this is how it's been for the past month. tired mumbles and hushed murmurs exchanged between two people who are more than friends but less than lovers after each harrowing mission; shared drinks and linked pinkies, the warmth that stains cheeks rosy when fingers that look small against calloused ones brush with another hand reaching for the metal pole on the train. heavy silence as you fall asleep on his shoulder; faint tingles when his fingers graze your knuckles as he stares at the dark reflection in the windows across. even the windows know how to make him relax.

one day, it'll be just him. a white bird stained black by apollo's hand in a sea of dirty geese, silent as the others hawk and squawk for a place on the lake. one hand hooked around the hard plastic of a hanger, supporting heavy shoulders with weight that could rival atlas' burden. a boy so tired of being beaten by the waves that he succumbs to the undercurrent with the same practice as before, only the paint on the railings has chipped past repair and not even the greenery of the countryside can touch the stains on the windows to his soul; eyes that used to shine with mirth and crinkle with gentle smiles become sunken and heavy with experience more suited to those a decade older.

he'd already chosen his path when he offered his jacket to you; when he laughed at the way you'd sneezed after investigating the patch of weed that had captured the stray cat's attention from before. and he knew that you'd noticed, and he knew that you'd try, and he knew that he wouldn't let you.

he knew when he woke you up with a gentle nudge to the forehead, suppressing the fluttering feeling in the heart he didn't know he still had when you made a grumpy tired face and stood up with much effort and a stumble or two.

(damn monkeys.)

it was easy nights like these that he'd eventually miss the most. walking you back to your dorm, past the candy wrappers and empty cola cans in the halls stained with imaginary blood and passing glances. departing with a kiss goodbye when he knew you were too drowsy and delirious to be able to remember it come morning.

the swing of a jazz rhythm would get stuck in his throat when you stumbled, only catching yourself from the jolt of the train's stop by latching a hand onto his wrist like some evil little lamprey and muttering a small 'sorry'. he'd laugh it off, collect the empty bottles of drinks of debt, and tug on the sleeve of his jacket on your arms, gently helping you off the platform as your pant leg slid back down to cover the bandaid on your leg, rough fabric scratching away the ghost of his touch on your skin. he wished it would just stay for a little longer.

and when the morning came and you woke up in your bed with his scent on the fabric of your shirt, you'd do it all over again. the only part of the terrible cycle he ever took pleasure in. even when the vile taste of a cursed spirit sunk into his stomach, it would be washed away with the right pop and fizzle of sugary drink followed by an even sweeter kiss to the knot between his tired eyes.

there was nothing about your time together he wouldn't ever miss.

you'd be his past, his present, and his afterlife. even when it was his turn to get off the ghost train and step past those sliding doors that held new meaning, you were the last thought on his mind.

one day, he hopes to see you again, when the last train comes in the night so late it could be considered early morning and the platform can relive old memories of peeling paint on a past summer spring once more.

hope u guys enjoyed the catoru cameo my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

#yes the title is a lamp song sue me #meant to practice sugu dialogue but he spoke like twice the entire time #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x you #geto suguru #jjk x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #billet-doux #think i genuinely started tweakin halfway thru #i asked mt friend for a prompt and she said train station and this amalgamation was born #jujutsu kaisen

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