#like it’s not his fault and I get what he’s trying to say

[naughtyjjk]

testing nanami kento’s self-control

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, riding, cock tease, edging, orgasm denial, begging, creampie notes: it's just so hot to see a man who's always composed start to break down hehe

whenever nanami comes home, his suit and tie are always in pristine condition, even after a long day of work. there’s never a strand of hair out of place or a speck of dust to be found anywhere. that’s just how he is—precise and focused and meticulous, almost to a fault.

even when you’re undressing him, kissing him, bringing your bodies together, he still manages to be so put together that it’s honestly a little frustrating. it makes you want to tease him to the point of torture and go slow enough that he falls apart. so slow that he begs.

you want to see him lose control. you want to ruin him.

pushing nanami down on the bed, you climb on top of him and grab the lube, slicking his cock with a few strokes. he’s already so hard, flushed red and throbbing in your grasp, desperate for more. when he bucks his hips to try and fuck himself in your fist, you let go completely and tsk at him.

“don’t move,” you say, coaxing him. “let me take care of you today.”

sighing, nanami lies back down, hips going still. you shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. this goes on for agonizingly long as you tease the both of you, feeling his hard cockhead poking at your entrance.

you push down a little, applying the slightest of pressure, and hold it there until you hear nanami groan, his cock twitching with arousal. he’s looking at you with lidded eyes, expression dark and hungry. “darling…”

but you only grin and move again, this time almost allowing his cock to slip inside you. almost. so close, but not quite there. you drag the head past your entrance, dipping barely inside, before you lift your hips again. nanami’s breath hitches, chest heaving. he swallows thickly, arms tense by his side, fighting against his instincts to keep himself still.

“ah—f-fuck—”

leaning forward to kiss him, you catch his bottom lip and flick your tongue over it. meanwhile, you spread your legs a bit wider and finally, finally sink down so that the very tip nudges inside you. only the tip. nanami is moaning your name in broken pieces, mixed in with a few curses and whimpers.

then you stop. again.

nanami groans in frustration and his hips jerk up involuntarily, but you were expecting it. you move with him, keeping just the tip of his cock in you, maintaining the position and refusing to let him go any deeper.

“wh-what did i do to deserve this teasing?” nanami asks, looking like he’s about to lose it.

you lick your lips and reply honestly, “you’re always so composed, kento. i want to make you desperate for it, see you completely wrecked for me.”

for a few more seconds, you stay in the same position, unmoving. the stretch of his cock is nice; he’s hardly even really inside you yet, but your pussy is already adjusting to his size, opening up for him. it’s so tempting to take all of him like you’ve done many times in the past, to ride him and bring him straight to the edge. but no. not yet. you have a plan to follow through.

lowering your hips just the slightest, you sink down further, taking more of his cockhead until the crown is almost fully inside. you can feel him throbbing against your walls, wanting more but never getting it.

nanami lets out a broken moan, breath stuttering. “you’re being cruel. how long are you going to make me wait?”

“that,” you say, “depends on how long you can hold out.”

as if to punish him, you raise your hips again, smiling wickedly as you pull away until all of him is resting outside your entrance again. it’s hard for you, too; you miss the feeling of having him inside. but you remind yourself that you’re going slow, as slow as you possibly can. slow so that you can watch nanami break.

nanami groans, low and needy. his hands clench and unclench the bedsheets by his sides. “fuck.”

without warning, you drop down again suddenly, less than an inch just so that you have the tip of his cock in you again. nanami gasps, throwing his head back against the pillow. you take in all the sensations: the messy feeling of lube and precum, the way nanami’s hard cock twitches with desire. how he’s struggling and using every ounce of his willpower to not buck up and thrust into you.

“good boy,” you lean in to whisper right by nanami’s ear, watching with delight as he shudders in response. he’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tensed up.

you keep him there inside you for what seems like forever. every tiny shift of movement is agonizing and extra sensitive, sending waves of pleasure from where you two connect to the rest of your body. you can tell that nanami also feels it, by the way he’s losing control more and more with each passing second.

and that’s exactly what you want. it’s working. you’re going to break him down piece by piece until he’s nothing but a shaking, writhing, horny mess beneath you.

it’s such a fucking turn on to see nanami’s self-control slipping, breaths growing ragged, waiting in anticipation for whatever you’re willing to give him next. it’s getting hard for you to hold back as well. you let just a tiny bit more of nanami’s cock into your pussy so that all of the head is nestled inside and then you start the shallowest, most torturously slow rhythm you’ve ever done in your life. hardly moving at all, the most miniscule rolls of your hips to take only the tip of his cock over and over again.

up… and down…

up… and down…

“o-oh god,” nanami curses, and he can’t help rocking his hips to follow your rhythm, matching your pace. he knows better now than to try for anything more, knows that you could take it all away from him at any moment.

each time his cock nudges its way back inside you, your pussy clenches around him. tight, like it doesn’t want to let him go. and nanami moans, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, wishing that he could feel your warmth along the rest of his neglected shaft, too.

he looks delirious now, so fucking aroused with his mouth parted and his eyes hazy and unfocused. his cock throbs and pulses inside you, making him dizzy with pleasure. the shallow thrusts are getting to him, slowly but surely, the sensation building up in tingling layers, bringing him closer to the edge.

honestly, you’re teasing yourself as just much as you’re teasing nanami. with only short strokes of his cock that barely manage to penetrate you, you feel empty, craving for him to hit your deepest parts. on one hand, it’s so fucking hot to drag it out like this, so arousing to see nanami at your mercy. on the other hand, you’re reaching your limit, too.

“beg,” you say. “tell me how badly you need it. let me hear you beg, kento.”

there seems to be an internal battle going on within nanami as he grits his teeth, trying to resist. but it’s futile; you simply keep moving your hips in that slow, steady rhythm until it becomes unbearable and nanami gives in embarrassingly fast, mind clouded with lust.

“hah—p-please, i can’t—fuck, please—”

“mm,” you consider his words. “please what?”

nanami chokes out a moan. “i wanna fuck you—ah, please, your pussy—” he looks at his aching cock, the precum spilling down the sides, the way his cockhead disappears into you. “let me come—i-i need—” then he gasps, “oh shit—”

it’s beyond arousing to hear him like this. in that moment, you don’t let him finish his sentence as something snaps within you and you give in to your own desires. your hips slam down on him without warning, burying all of his cock inside you in a single, rapid movement.

an intense wave of pleasure rushes through both of you, every nerve ending igniting at once. you moan, overwhelmed. you’re filled so deep and so fast that it takes a second for you to return to your senses. and nanami—fuck, the sound he makes, low and guttural, a stuttering, broken moan that should be illegal. his abdomen clenches, thighs shaking. it’s only one full thrust, but you can tell that he almost came right then and there.

“fuck.” his voice sounds destroyed, fucked out. chest heaving, he wants so badly to buck his hips into you until he’s spilling his release into you. it won’t take much more to get him there. but he very carefully doesn’t move, still following your orders, still being good.

“k-kento,” you whine, staying there, the sensation of his cock pulsing and splitting you open driving you dangerously close to orgasm as well. you don’t dare to move until the pleasure simmers down into something more manageable, until you’re sure that you’ve fallen away from the edge.

that’s when you draw your hips up again. still going slow, so fucking slow that it almost breaks you—but it breaks nanami too, and that’s what you’re aiming for.

by this point, nanami’s composure has completely crumbled. he’s resigned himself to the torture as you restart the aching, brutally slow thrusts. the tip of his cock dips into you, as far as the crown of his cockhead, and then pulls out almost all the way. again and again and again.

you’re dripping wet, the teasing against your pussy reaching an unbearable degree. there’s nothing you want more than to take nanami fast and deep, to feel him hitting your most sensitive spots instead of just playing with the entrance. but you almost have nanami where you want him and you’re betting on him to give in first.

“please—ah, m-more—” nanami cries out, breathy and horny and frustrated, trembling from the effort of holding himself back.

you keep the same pace, not giving him what he wants. keeping him just on the edge of satisfaction, waiting him out. and it’s infinitely worse now that you’ve both had a taste of what you could be getting instead.

your hips move up. then down.

then up again.

the crown of his cockhead catches and releases from your pussy, delicious friction causing your head to spin. nanami’s neck is arched, looking at you with narrow eyes, aroused beyond his limits.

“f-fuck, fuck,” he rambles nonsensically, body so tense. “please—let me—i’m—i need—let me inside you—i c-can’t take it anymore—”

“just a little longer,” you tell him, and nanami groans. “you can hold out for a few more minutes, can’t you? be a good boy for me.”

those words make a desperate, wrecked sound escape from his lips and his self-control is slipping, slipping, slipping. he’s turning wild under you now, squirming, writhing, frenzied and starved for his release. your own willpower is dissolving at the sight of nanami’s desperation.

your hips descend on his cock again, clenching tight around the tip. nanami sucks in a sharp breath.

up, agonizingly slow, leaving him throbbing at the loss of contact. this time, you let out a moan, feeling so empty. god, it’s not enough for you either, not nearly fucking enough.

“need you—n-need to feel you,” nanami pleads, whimpering, chanting your name over and over. “please, please, i’m close—fuck, i’m so—”

he’s panting, cock twitching madly, and this —this is exactly what you had been waiting for the whole time: nanami completely ruined, nanami undone by your actions, nanami looking at you with pure hunger and lust, overtaken by arousal. he seems to be right on the edge of pleasure, so close to tipping over, body burning with an orgasm held at bay. you’re sure that when you finally allow him to come, it’ll be ecstasy like he’s never felt before, coming harder than he ever has in his life.

and that’s the end of your limits. you can’t deny either of you any longer.

you slam your hips down all at once, plunging nanami’s hard, aching cock inside you.

“ah—!”

“f-fuuuck—”   

nanami moans, loud and guttural and absolutely wrecked. it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. his cock splits you open, so hard and thick, and you fall forward on his chest as your pussy spasms around him.

the sensation is entirely overwhelming, your mind going blank, pleasure jolting along your nerves tenfold, having built up by the teasing and denial.

“o-oh god,” nanami pants. he bends his knees to drive his cock even deeper inside you, and the change in angle makes you fucking delirious. “good, so good—”

you’re all out of patience. there’s no more waiting, no more drawing this out.

looking at nanami, you say, “kento. take what you need. make yourself come.” you swirl your hips in a circular motion, feeling his cock hitting every corner inside you, and both of you moan at the same time. “fuck me.”

something sparks in nanami’s eyes, washed over by a fresh wave of arousal. before you know it, he’s flipped the two of you over so that you’re now lying on your back and he’s propped up above you. his eyes stare into yours, so intense, and that’s when you know: he’s going to devour you.

with a growl, nanami begins to move, pulling out his cock just enough to shove it back into you. hard and fast and so, so fucking deep. your mouth parts but no sound comes out. you can’t think straight; your pussy feels so full, stretched tight around his aching cock.

“kento—kento—”

but nanami isn’t listening to you anymore. he’s so wound up, so fucking turned on beyond reason, that he can’t hold back anymore. he starts thrusting wildly and unrestrained using short, quick rolls of his hips to drive his cock into you. each inch that enters you burns with pleasure and the room fills with the filthy sounds of your moans, of nanami pounding his cock into you again and again.

“this is payback,” he says, voice low and raspy. it makes you shudder to think about what he has in store for you. “i'm gonna—hah—gonna fuck you until you scream. fill you up with my come. shit, and i won’t stop until you’re coming on my cock like the naughty fucking girl you are.”

nanami’s hips are stuttering but his pace never falters. his next thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, making you arch off the bed and gasp, sparks of pleasure dancing along your spine. and now that nanami has found it, he aims there every time, knowing how sensitive it is, how it brings you that much closer to the edge.

moaning, it’s all you can to do keep up with the brutal thrusts. your stomach coils, orgasm building and building, threatening to take over your body. it feels so fucking good. nanami’s cock is pushing deep inside you, hard and fast, pulsing against your walls, stretching you open. he uses a hand to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, and you cry out, hips bucking up to chase the sensation, clenching around his cock on instinct.

“oh—fuck, k-kento, i'm—i'm coming—”

the pleasure crests and your arousal spikes. you know that you won’t be able to endure it for much longer. and nanami is right there with you, thrusts turning erratic and desperate.

“m-me too,” he says, grunting. “come. don’t hold back. come for me, baby.”

one, two more thrusts and you’re moaning his name, body convulsing in waves. nanami fucks you through it, sending aftershocks to your nerves, and then he’s coming too, releasing everything that’s built up inside of him in spurts. he’s loud when he comes, mouth next to your ear; louder than you’ve ever heard him, riled up by all the teasing. his cock twitches inside you and his hips slow, eventually go still.

god, it’s so damn hot that it almost makes you want to fuck him all over again.

for a moment, both of you lie there, catching your breaths. then nanami pulls out slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. he holds you like that and you melt in his arms, all the strength leaving your body.

“next time,” nanami says, sounding defeated, “you’re going to be the one begging for it.”

.

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu

(comment to be added/removed)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk men #jjk smut #jjk imagine #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #naughtyjjk

[surielstea]

Wrapping Wounds

1k celebration request

Pairing: Bodyguard!Azriel x Princess!Reader

Summary: Azriel gets hurt and reader feels guilty, so she visits his bedroom and doesn’t plan on leaving until he’s healed.

Warnings: mention of attempted kidnapping (it’s all fluff though)

1.8k words

My bodyguard was injured. Which is a surprisingly unusual occurrence. Azriel never got hurt, so it was a shock when I opened my bedroom door this morning only to find the grand hallway vacant, void of any brooding male guarding anyone from entering my bedroom. He was always there to greet me with a slight nod of his head, his shadows bringing me a cup of coffee before I could even mutter a word.

Instead, this morning I was met with an entirely different face, one I recognized but hadn't been expecting.

"Where's Azriel?" Is the first thing I say to Cassian, an equally intimidating male.

"He's injured at the moment, I'll be guarding you today." Cassian's words were dutiful and I can't help but frown. I loved Cass, sure, but I couldn't help but wonder why Azriel was hurt.

"So he's in the medical tents still healing?" I ask, stepping from my bedroom and closing the door behind me.

"I believe he's in his bedroom, but you're not allowed—" He starts but he doesn't get to finish before I winnow out of his sight and straight into Azriel's bedroom.

It was wrong to use my abilities against Cassian who was incapable of winnowing but it wasn't as if I was breaking any rules, just visiting an injured friend.

Azriel was sitting on his bed, currently rewrapping a wound on his abdomen.

"You can't be in here," Azriel stated without even taking a glance up at me, yet he still knew. I had to hold back from rolling my eyes at his absurd comment.

"I've been in a male's bedroom before," I scoff but he and I both knew that wasn't what he was talking about. We had been toeing the line of unspoken feelings for far too long now, mere inches away from being more than just professionals but he refused to cross that line and didn't want to drag me with him either.

I gather my skirts in my hands and close the distance between us, crouching down beside him and taking over his job of dressing his own wound, replacing his calloused, scarred hands with my manicured, delicate ones.

"You're not paid enough to get stabbed on my behalf," I grumble beneath my breath, my hair falling into my face as I focus on keeping pressure on the wound.

"Is everything about money to you, princess?" He teased and I just huffed, flicking my gaze up at him in a glare. He mirrors it with a quirk of his lip.

"Nevertheless, I'm making my brother give you a raise," I claim, looking back down to the gauze in my hands, deciding to look into his hazel eyes was too much to bear if I could not have them on me at all times. "Tell me what happened," I say, my words coming out more demanding than I anticipated but I was frustrated with myself for falling so damned hard for someone who was simply paid to be around me.

"So demanding," He grumbles, craning his neck to the side as if he needed to stretch, already tired from this conversation. "All you need to know is that some guys were trying to, take you last night," He gritted out like it was hard for him to stomach, but I brushed it off as the pain from his wound. "And I wasn't going to let them," He finished and I frowned, keeping my eyes pinned to the wrap in my hands as I tightly secured it with a clasp.

"It doesn't hurt too much, does it?" I say, looking up at him. He reaches towards me, his large calloused hand coming to my jaw and then pushing a lock of my hair away from my face.

"It's sweet that you're worried about me, but I’m kind of paid to be your bodyguard." He looks down at me with a stoic expression, a hint of devotion wandering behind his gaze.

“You don’t have to remind me,” I mumble, looking away from his gaze and down to his wound, the one that’s my fault. "If I was there, I would've offered myself rather than see you get hurt," I confess and his brows form a line, an angry frown pulling at his lips.

"Don't say that," He uttered. "No one will ever deserve you, no matter how good of a fight they put up." He claims and a comforting warmth blooms in the depths of my chest. I swallow, rising fully but still having to look up at him.

"I think you put up a pretty good fight," I shrug suggestively and he shakes his head.

"I'm protecting you because it's my job, it's just business princess." He claims and I roll my eyes and sling my arms over his shoulders, which he doesn't back away from.

"Nuh-uh, admit it, you like me," I taunt with a smile spreading over my lips, able to read him like an open book as the corner of his lip twitches downward, a clear indicator that he was debating if he should say something he knew he’d later regret.

"You're technically not working right now, we wouldn't be breaking any rules," I add and he only gazes down at me with a faux pitiful look in his eyes, like a rich man too selfish to donate to my charity.

"I don't think that's how it works." He blinks ever so slowly, taking all of this moment in.

"Az," I huff, walking my fingers down his bare chest.

"Princess," He mocks my tone, catching my wrist in his hand before it could get too low. "Cassian will be in here any second," He gestures for me to step backward with a jerk of his head. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck instead, rebelling his commands and doing the exact opposite. But he didn't push me away, and he didn't complain when I slowly situated myself over his lap.

"Please," I utter, begging was foreign to me but I'd do it if it meant he'd finally just let me love him.

"Please, what?" He plays dumb and this time I do actually roll my eyes, one of my hands going into his hair.

"Please, can you just stop being my bodyguard for five seconds and be my boyfriend?" I mumble and a smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

"It's kind of a package deal," He shrugs, his eyes glinting with amusement, silently laughing at my frustration.

"My gods, just kiss me already," I sigh and a rare grin grows over his features, revealing dimples.

"Always, so demanding," He muttered while leaning in, cupping my jaw in his large hand and pulling me into him.

Our lips connect like the last two pieces of a puzzle I've been working on for years, slotting together perfectly. His other hand was slipping up the slit in my pastel dress, resting at my upper thigh, gripping it occasionally and I can't help but smile at his lips at the action.

He slips his tongue into my mouth at the first opportunity he gets, craving to taste me further than just my lips. I wrap my arms tighter around the back of my neck, attempting to press myself as close as possible, needing the proximity of his warmth more than anything else.

He winced, biting slightly at my bottom lip in silent warning and I realized I pressed against his wound.

"Sorry," I murmur as he moves away from my lips and towards my jaw, kissing a trail down it all the way to my neck.

"We should probably stop," Azriel murmured as if he wasn't the one sucking hickeys to my neck and holding me down with his hand on my thigh.

"Probably," I say, slightly breathless as I recover from the pain of him pulling away from my lips. "I don't want to go," I sigh. "I'm safe in here with you, I don't need any other bodyguard," I explain and he smiles against my neck at my words, kissing the area softly.

A knock on the door makes me jump but he barely flinched, pulling away from my neck and looking at where he had been sucking, admiring the forming mark like an artist staring at their canvas.

"I have an idea, hide behind the door." He gestures to the door and I nod with a cheeky grin, scrambling off his lap and to where he told me to go.

"Az, you in there?" Cassian's voice was heard through the door.

Instead of replying, Azriel simply swung the door open with a tired smile. From my position, I could still see Azriel, but I was out of Cassian's line of sight— unless, of course, he decided to enter the room.

"Is the Princess in here?" I can hear the slight panic in Cassian's voice but Azriel doesn't falter when he replies.

"You already lost her?" The male scoffed, slightly amused.

"It's not my fault, she saw I wasn't you and winnowed away. I figured she'd be with you." I couldn't see the male but I knew his brows were bunched. I sort of felt bad for the male, I debated telling him I was going to stay with Azriel for the rest of the day so he should go far away unless he wanted to hear some things he shouldn't, but I didn't, I let Azriel handle it.

"Calm down, she's probably at the library. This castle is crawling with guards, she's safe here," Azriel reassured and Cassian must've nodded because there was no reply.

"I'm going back to bed, no more interruptions I'm trying to heal," Azriel shooed him away.

"Right, thanks Az," Cassian murmurs then a heavy pair of footsteps recede down the hall and Azriel closes the door, turning to me.

"Having affairs with your protectee and lying to your colleagues, how many rules are you going to break today?" I tease, lifting onto the tips of my toes and twining my arms around the back of his neck.

"I can always ask him to come back," He retorts and I frown, pecking his lips so quickly he barely had time to return the action.

"You wouldn't dare give me up so easily," I claim confidently, my fingers twining into his hair. "You like me too much."

"Way too much." He leans closer, his nose brushing mine. He looks at me for a moment, admiring my features from such a short distance, but as soon as his eyes flick down to my lips he can't help but lean in, our lips pressing together and somehow he made it feel like we've been doing this for decades it was all so natural.

"I'm staying in here all day, I hope you know that," I mumble and he pulls away a fraction to meet my gaze.

"But how will I ever get my rest to heal?" He sighs dramatically and I chuckle.

"I'll tell you what, you can sleep as long as you want, you just have to cuddle with me," I offer, and a soft grin forms on his lips.

"Sounds perfect to me." He closes the distance between us once more.

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #x reader #sarah j maas #request #azriel #acomaf #1k celebration #x you fluff #azriel fluff #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar au #bodyguard x princess #bodyguard au #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #alternate universe #cassian #high lord rhysand #acotar fanfiction #fanfiction #azriel fanfic

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME

FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)

Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.

To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.

But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up. 

He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.

You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.

You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.

So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.

It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.

The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake. 

“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..

“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”

“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.” 

Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?” 

His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.

Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up. 

“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.

Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”

“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”

Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.

“I have not.”

He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie. 

“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”

“No, I didn’t.” 

Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back. 

But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to. 

“You just did it again.”

“I did not.”

“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”

Dazai looks mortified.

“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”

A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.

You almost feel bad.

Almost.

“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”

“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”

“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”

Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.

Dazai does not budge.

At all. 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

Did he fall asleep?

You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.

“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”

You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.

“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.

Has he really not slept since he left?

“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”

“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”

You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.

“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.

You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.

As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.

“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”

Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.

“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”

“No.”

The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“No?” 

“No.”

“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.

“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.

“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”

“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No.”

“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”

“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”

Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.

At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.

“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.

You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.

“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”

“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”

“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him. 

You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.

“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”

“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.

“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”

When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…

Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.

Fuck.

You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.

(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)

Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:

Something came up. Meet later.

And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it. 

You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.

(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai fluff #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's not here, but she'll be - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Series: She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you

requests: "hello can i request one with lewis where he has been having a baby fever ... fluff and smut of course. and can we have a very slow and sexy one because he wants to take his time with her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻" - anon 2 ;

"hi, can I request a prequel to She's here and she's ours ... maybe it was hard to conceive and things weren't always all flowers" - anon 1

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of troubles with infertility, unprotected sexual activities (all sorts)

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Combined requests again because anon 2 asked for something that gave me the idea for the prequeal (sorry for how long it took anon 1, but hope the wait was worth it)

a/n.2: The tone of this whole series is mixing angst and fluff, this time I added a bit of smut too, hope you guys like it

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The discarded ovulation test lay on the bathroom counter, a white plastic screaming what her ovulation app had already warned to. Y/n stared at it, not really sure she even wanted to know about it that month.

The more you want something, the harder it is. That's what they said anyway, and apparently it wasn't any different when it came to “trying” to get pregnant, a euphemism that felt increasingly hollow with each passing cycle.

Doctors assured her a year was still considered normal, but the constant hum of wanting, the way it colored every conversation, every shared glance, was starting to wear on them both.

Six months. Six months of basal body temperatures, ovulation predictors, and Lewis’ frustrated attempts at scheduling "baby time" around his chaotic schedule.

“Again?” as Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he saw her face, then the test on her hands and his smile faltered.

He sighed, walking over to wrap his arms around Y/n. She leaned into him, but the spark of hope she usually felt was absent.

"It's been too long, Lew" she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. " The schedules, apps, and ovulation calendars. It's driving me insane."

“Maybe we just need to try harder” he suggested, trying to be optimistic. But the forced cheer didn't fool her.

“Harder?” Y/n pulled back slightly, the edge in her voice surprising even herself. “Lewis, it's like we're robots. Everything's always timed, charted…”

Lewis turned to face her. "You think I enjoy this? Every time we fail, it's like there's this... pressure. Like if it doesn't work, it's my fault."

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. "It's not about fault. It's about us. It feels like we’re losing sight of why we wanted this in the first place."

"It's not supposed to feel calculated, is it?" he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "We both want this, right?"

"Of course, we do," Y/n insisted, her voice a touch too sharp. "But it's like we're robots following a program instead of… you know, a couple."

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt. "That's not fair, Y/N. We’re trying our best here. Circumstances might not be the most ideal but it’s what we got"

Tears welled up in her eyes, her frustration boiling over. Lewis's shoulders slumped as he saw the evident fear in her eyes, his anger giving way to hopelessness. "I just... I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe," Y/N's voice held such certainty that surprised even herself, "maybe we should take a break.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise starting to take hold in his eyes. "A break? From trying?"

"Yeah," she took a deep breath before continuing, a growing conviction in her tone. "From the apps, schedules, calendar, the whole... stress. We just focus on us, and why we want this."

He was silent for a moment, considering her words. "What if it takes even longer?"

"Then... we'll deal with that when we get there," she said, her hand gently touching his cheek. "I want this pregnancy, but not like this. Not at the cost of us."

Lewis closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of their struggles hanging heavy in the air. He shook his head with an understanding nod "We've been so caught up in this that we've forgotten about us." he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"I love you; you know ?!" she whispered, the words catching him by surprise in their suddenness. She hadn't said them in days, maybe weeks, the unspoken worry choking the words back.

Lewis tilted his head, his gaze searching hers. "I love you, always." His voice was laced with tenderness. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "We'll get there " he whispered. "We'll have our family. I believe that with all my heart."

The positive pregnancy test felt surreal. Lewis and Y/n sat on the bed, the silence in the room only broken by the soft hum of the air conditioner. The digital test lay between them, its stark message still blinking: "Pregnant 5-6 weeks."

Y/n turned to Lewis, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief. "This can’t be real," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ve been on the pill... we weren’t even trying."

Lewis stared at the test, then at her, his mind struggling to process the information. "We haven't thought about having kids for over a year." he stated, his voice filled with bewilderment

Tears filled Y/n’s eyes, but this time a mix of confusion and hope. "I didn’t even think about missing my period." she confessed. "I thought it was just the stress of the season, the move, the change in routines…"

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "This is real," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We’re really going to be parents."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, the reality of their news slowly sinking in. The past months of not even considering pregnancy, of relying on birth control, seemed to amplify the miracle of this moment. The weight of their previous struggles felt lighter, replaced by the shock and anticipation of the new life they had miraculously created.

"Five to six weeks," Y/n murmured, looking at the test again. "How could this happen?"

Lewis frowned, trying to remember. "What were we doing around then?" he asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

Y/n bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don’t know... maybe I missed a pill or something. But I really thought I was careful."

Lewis looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her hands “That’s not on you love, we decided on no condoms, remember?! We knew it could happen”.

Then, out of the blue with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Silverstone."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she remembered and stated "Silverstone!” Lewis nodded, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n's cheeks flushed as she recalled the night. She looked at Lewis, a smile spreading across her face despite the lingering shock.

Lewis looked at her, his grin widening. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Y/n laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I guess we were celebrating more than just you that night."

"We were celebrating us" Lewis said, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And now, we have even more to celebrate."

He leaned in, kissing her tenderly, resting their foreheads against each other when they pulled back.

"We're going to be parents," she whispered, the reality finally settling in.

"We're going to be parents," Lewis echoed, his heart swelling with joy and excitement. "I love you, Y/n. And I love our little one so much already."

The Silverstone circuit buzzed with the electric energy of a crowd celebrating a hero’s homecoming. Lewis, now a Ferrari driver, had held his own, going from p3 at the starting line to the tallest step of the podium, beaming as the Union Jack waved above him.

After the race, the celebration shifted to a more intimate setting. Lewis’s family, Y/n, and a tight-knit group of friends gathered at a house in the countryside nearby. The energy of the race lingered, laughter and music filling the air. It was a night of toasts.

As the party slowly wound down, the house fell silent. Guests retired to their rooms, and the sun began to hint at its arrival on the horizon, leaving Lewis and Y/n by themselves in the garden, the weight of the day finally sinking in.

“Can you believe it?” Lewis whispered, his voice hoarse from cheering. He was sprawled on the couch, Y/n nestled against him.

“You were amazing,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kissed her forehead gently, his eyes closing as he felt the exhaustion wash over him. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow.”

Y/n nodded, her eyelids heavy and he led them to their bedroom.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the unknown room. Y/n stirred, her body snug against Lewis’s as he spooned her, one arms securely holding her close and the other serving as her pillow.

As she shifted, she felt a familiar pressure against her back. She turned slightly, her eyes opening to find Lewis still asleep, his breathing was steady, but she could feel his arousal pressing into her. A soft moan escaped his lips as he dreamt, his hips subtly moving against her.

Y/n smiled to herself, a gentle warmth spreading through her at the feeling of him. She shifted again, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, champ,” she replied softly, turning her head to look at him.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling despite the lingering fatigue. “I must have been having a really good dream,” he joked, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip.

Y/n chuckled, pressing back against him. “I noticed” she teased rubbing her ass with a bit more vigor against him.

She could feel his arousal growing more insistent as his breaths came out in hisses. She bit her lip, considering their options. “Do you think anyone’s awake?” she whispered, glancing towards the door.

“Probably,” Lewis replied, his hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress her skin. “But we can be quiet.”

A shiver ran through her at his touch, and she nodded. “I doubt you’ll let me” her voice dropping to a whisper. He smiled mischievously, his fingers trailing up her side. “I’ll try,” he promised.

Slowly, he rolled her onto her side, spooning her again from behind. He nuzzled into her neck, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her shorts. She held her breath as his fingers slipped inside, brushing against her most sensitive spot.

She gasped softly, biting her lip to stifle the sound. “Lew” she breathed, her hips instinctively pressing back against him.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring until she was panting with need. Her hands gripped the sheets, trying to stay quiet as he worked her up.

When he finally slid a finger inside her, she had to bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out. He added another finger, stretching her gently, his movements unhurried and tender. She could feel his breath hot against her neck, his own restraint evident in the way he held her.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yeah” she whispered, barely able to speak. “Please.”

He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly pushed inside. She moaned softly, the feeling of him filling her almost overwhelming. He paused once he was fully seated, giving her time to adjust, the pause also helping him control his breathing.

When she took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation of him with a “You can move.” he started with slow, gentle thrusts, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rhythm was languid, each movement measured and precise. Y/n’s breaths came in short, quiet gasps, her body trembling with each stroke.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the occasional creak of the bed as they moved together. Every so often, she had to remind him to stay quiet, her whispers blending with his low grunts.

When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, she bit back a cry, his hand reaching to cover her mouth. She licked her fingers, his thrusts becoming more insistent with the scene.

“I can’t… I’m so close,” she panted, her voice muffled against his hand, her body arching against him.

“Just a little longer, love, I’m almost there.” He quickened his pace, each movement somehow reaching deeper.

Lewis’s body tensed, his toes curling as he felt her walls starting to flutter, and with a final, deep thrust, he came shortly after her, their bodies shaking with the intensity of it. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling her cries as Lewis held her tightly and lowly grunted into her neck.

For a moment, they lay there, catching their breath, the room filled with the soft glow of morning light. Finally, Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, just below where he had left his mark, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Best celebration ever,” he whispered, a satisfied smile on his face. Y/n laughed softly, turning her head to kiss him. “Next time though, we’ll wait until I can have my way with you, no muffed moans”

She chuckled, nuzzling into his neck. “Deal.”

______________________________________________________________

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#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut

[moonlightpearlsposts]

▮𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒔

/ / In which Lando Norris and his girlfriend tries to soft launch their relationship but the detective internet is quick to connect the dots !! / / ✿

. . ҂ 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau, fluff, slice of life

✎ ᝰ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: based on this request. idk shit about horse show jumping which is why the info is very vaugue. i am srry if it is not upto the expectations 😭

© moonlightpearlspots

liked by mickschumacher, maxverstappen1 and 891,861 others

landonorris life's been bit cherry red lately

view all 57,000 comments

mclaren lando are you cheating on us?

landonorris i swear it's not what it looks like

user1 mclaren's been too quite for smn who got cheatef on

mclaren you're right. LANDO DID YOU CHEATED ON US?!

landonorris NO?!

user1 *gasp* mclaren babes this is gaslighting

landonorris oml it really is your fans against you

charles_leclerc froza ferrari?

landonorris NO FROZA FERRARI. ONLY LIVE LONG MCLAREN

mclaren alexa play traitor by olivia rodrigo

mclaren alexa play olivia rodrigo's sour album

maxverstappen1 bro

landonorris bro

user2 since when did he became so aesthetic

user3 lando norris for ferrari?

alexalbon lol drinking alone. only alcoholics or loosers drink alone

oscarpiastri or is he tryna soft launch

landonorris trying to soft launch

user4 LANDO SAY SIKE RN

user6 please let it be yn. she's also soft launching with red wine

user5 lando norris soft launch failure is the biggest failure of 2024

liked by lilymhe, and 710,140 others

yourinstagram red nails, red wine

view all 29,000 comments

user1 IS MY WIFE TRYING TO SOFT LAUNCH

user2 dw that's just lily

lilymhe yeah right

user2 never beating the girlfriend allegations

user3 i would let yn ride me like she rides her horses

user4 bro..

user3 bro..?

user4 unoriginal asf get smth new

user3 not my fault everyone thirsts for this sexy sexy woman

lilymhe sweetie

yourinstagram darling

user5 i want what they have

user6 you know who else is soft launching with red wine? lando norris

user7 girl put the phone down

user6 I'VE CONNECTED THE DOTS I SWEAR

user7 YOU'VE CONNECTED SHIT

liked by landonorris, lando.jpg, lando.mov, and other 719,918 others

yourinstagram welp you're right. i am dating this sweetheart

view all 29,000 comments

landonorris my favourite person in the entire world

landonorris literally more precious than my life

landonorris each and every day i thank god for making me a star of a beautiful moon like you

landonorris this companionship of morning and evening is less for me, the duration of my entire life is also less to admire you

landonorris if you can meet me in the next life then please meet me because spending 1 life with you isn't enough

user6 WHAT DID I SAY WHAT DID I SAY

user6 i accept apologises in gold, cash and venmo

user1 holy shit she's got lando writing poems for her

alexalbon can't even make fun of him because it's damn cute

user2 NOOOOOO MY WIFE IS TAKEN

maxverstappen1 lando is down BAD BAD

landonorris i am holding my tongue i can say lot more

liked by yourinstagram, lilymhe and 910,240 others

landonorris the world craves her from far but she's close to me

view all 58,130 comments

yourinstagram god have i told you how much i love you my love

landonorris ofc i remember my darling. you remind me every day

user1 they're so disgustingly cute

user2 your honour i see nothing but love

user2 and they love is intangible

user1 careful your commerce is showing

user2 fuck off

user6 ahh another day of being right

maxverstappen1 mate you're down bad huh?

landonorris mate she's divine how can i not be down bad for her

user3 when will i have what they have

lilymhe my girlfriend

landonorris booooo

landonorris tomatoes 🍅🍅🍅🍅

landonorris she's sleeping in my arms rn as i comment this

lilymhe damn smn took my bitch

user4 i refuse to belive lando bagged this absolute bad bitch

user5 wait what does she do?

user4 horse show jumping

user5 is she any good?

user4 one of the best in her field actually

user3 they're the most random couple i swear

user4 ehh idts they prolly met thru one of his sisters

user1 did she let you sit on her horse

landonorris yep she did but her horse didn't liked me :(

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris fluff #lando fic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando fluff #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smau #f1 instagram au

[emberuby]

it's always been you | s.jy

pairing: sim jake x reader

summary: jake is your best friend of over a decade, and you lose your mind when he gets asked out on a date.

warnings: university setting, roommate! jake, childhood best friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, unprotected sex, hardom! jake, sub! reader, degredation, possessiveness, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, vaginal sex, cream pie, implied breeding kink, angst, misunderstanding, fluff.

note: this was originally meant to be a jungwon fic but i though jake fit the vibes more. also the ending is based of a rom-com, and if you have watched it you will definitely be able to tell what it is. also, some of the scenes are based off the addicted series by kristie and becca richie.

wc: 4.0k

This was your fault, really. You knew you had no right to be mad that Jake was seeing other girls. He didn’t have any obligation always to be there to look after you like he used to. 

The walls at your shared apartment were thin, and it’s not like it was all that large, so you could clearly hear him and his date laughing and eating the lunch he made them. 

If you remembered correctly, she asked him out a week ago after his Physics lecture. Jake told you he noticed her staring at him since the beginning of the semester, chuckling to himself. You pretended to laugh alongside him, trying your best to hide your panic at the thought of him accepting a proposal from her. Sarah, you think her name was. Or Sanah? You groaned and rubbed your forehead.

He always made lunch for you, and as much as you knew you were being ridiculous, it made you feel like he didn’t care about you anymore now that he was so preoccupied with another girl. Your mind started to spiral into what the future could be once he got serious about his relationship with her. He’d probably stop spending time with you, move out of your apartment, or make you find another place to stay at. 

You and Jake have been best friends for over twelve years, and all you have ever known is him. You practically lived at each other’s houses growing up, and didn’t hesitate to move in together and attend the same university. He was your shoulder to cry on when a boy broke your heart when your grandfather passed away, and you failed an important exam. He was always there. You had no idea how you would cope without him.

You slammed your pillow onto your face and screamed. God, you were being so ridiculously dramatic. You had to grow up and accept that Jake does not belong to you. 

You dressed into your casual errand clothes and quietly walked out of your bedroom. You definitely needed some air to think, and you couldn’t handle hearing one more giggle coming from Jake’s new girlfriend’s mouth. You knew he wasn’t that funny, so why on earth was she laughing so much?

You were crouching down slightly and tip-toeing through the main hall of your apartment, hoping to leave without the two lovebirds noticing you. You were just at the entrance putting on your running shoes when you heard, “Hi! Y/N, right?” You turned around to face the girl that has been haunting your thoughts for the past few days. She was fucking gorgeous, with a warm and kind smile. God, you hated how insecure you began to feel.

“Hello! Uhm…,” Your voice was shaky, and you couldn’t find it in you to look at her eyes. You noticed Jake behind her in the kitchen, washing their dishes. He looked slightly concerned at your state but didn’t say anything.

“Sanah! My name is Sanah. Jake has told me a lot about you. I heard you guys grew up in the same town. That’s so cool! Most of my friends from back in town went overseas for uni so it’s been quite hard to make friends here,” Sanah sighed. You hated how nice she was. You wish she would just glare at you and make catty comments so it would be easier to hate her, but no, Jake had to choose the most perfect girl in the entire fucking university. 

“So where are you off to, Y/N?” Sanah asked.

“Oh…I-I’m just going out to…to get some groceries. We’re running low on a few things,” you stumbled on your words like an idiot.

“I stocked up on everything yesterday, don’t worry about it,” Jake said from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. 

“We-well, uhm…I’ll just go get some snacks then,” your hands were already on the door knob.

“It’s okay, I bought your favourite. The strawberry muffins, right? They’re in the pantry.”

You gulped, and your eyes were looking around for a way to escape. Jake started walking up towards you and Sanah, but you couldn’t be around this any longer. Your hands were shaking, and you opened the door abruptly, “Uh, yeah. Well, I-I just…I’ll get going, bye.”

You walked out of the apartment and down towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. You sighed with relief but you were also sweating from stress. You hated how you acted back there, like a complete bitch. You put your face into your hands, thinking of how Sanah probably hates your guts now and Jake is going to refuse to talk to you for days for utterly embarrassing him. 

You finally walked into the elevator, but just as the doors were about to close, a strong arm stopped it, followed by Jake stepping into the space. His hair was a mess, likely due to him running the length of the hallway to get here. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was looking at you with a completely still face. He faced away from you to press the close button.

“Jake?!” You gasped, “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to check on you,” Jake murmured. 

“I’m okay, I’m fine. What the fuck? Go back. Did you seriously just leave Sanah alone?”

“I told her to go home,” he casually put his hands in his pocket, like he wasn’t being completely absurd. Your eyes widened in shock.

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly,” he smirked.

“Jake, this isn’t a joke. Why would you do that? I’m just going out to get some food—”

“That’s bullshit. I mean, you’ve been acting so weird for the last week. You didn’t talk to me for the entire day, and then you act like that around a girl I bring home? You barely looked me in the eyes for the past few days. I know you, Y/N, you looked devastated. I had to put an end to it,” His eyes were pleading for you to explain it. Explain why you were acting like a madwoman, because you knew all he wanted to do was fix it.

“It’s nothing.”

“I know it’s not nothing! Talk to me, Y/N,” He reached out to hold your hands. They were rough and calloused, but so damn warm, and it made you never want to let go. “You always tell me how you feel, so why are you hiding now? I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t handle this distance between us, so tell me. I’m begging you.”

“I…,” you began. And there it was, you were going to tell him the one thing you promised to never do. 

You wouldn’t be heartbroken if Jake didn’t reciprocate your feelings, even if you would be slightly hurt. No, your nightmares were instead filled with thoughts of him leaving you. Of him getting uncomfortable, and disgusted at the thought of you having feelings for him. You were afraid of losing your soulmate because you were stupid enough to fall in love with him.

“You..?” Jake raised his eyebrows in curiosity and concern.

“I was jealous, okay? There, I said it. I was so fucking jealous because I’m in love with you, Jake, and have been for the past two years,” your eyes began tearing up ever so slightly, “and I know you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I wanted to be okay with it, but I don’t think I can handle seeing you with another girl. I know I’m being stupid, but I’ll find a way to deal with this, okay? I don’t know if you even want to keep being friends with me, I just—,” Your stammering was halted by Jake’s lips slamming on yours. 

Your back was suddenly pressed against the mirror at the back of the elevator, and you felt Jake grab your waist with one hand and hold your face with his other. It wasn’t soft like you always imagined your first kiss with Jake to be. It was rough, fast, and hard. You felt his tongue plunge into your mouth, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You were gripping his shoulders, nails clawing at the fabric of his shirt. You tried your best not to make any noise, knowing how mortifying it would be, but when he pressed his thigh against your core, a soft moan managed to escape your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet just from the kiss, and you felt yourself becoming lightheaded. The moan seemed to have gotten Jake going because he began grinding his thighs harder on you. 

He began to slow down, intertwining his hands with yours. He slowly let go of your lips, not before he nipped your bottom lip, and pressed his forehead against yours, letting out a sigh.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that, baby,” Jake whispered.

You two stared at each other for a few moments, with you not knowing what to say. Your mind was running laps, and you were afraid the next thing that came out of your mouth would make no sense, so instead you were just breathing, loudly and quickly. 

“I can’t believe you would even think I didn’t love you back. I mean, how could you be so stupid?” Jake asked, “You say you’ve been in love with me for two years, but try eight. You have been the love of my life for eight fucking years. I loved you before I even knew what it meant. What you felt today, I felt for eight years watching you get chased around by guys who were never good enough for someone as perfect as you.”

You were fully crying now, and his hands went up to your cheeks to rub the tears off them. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay,” He said before placing a firm kiss on your forehead, “I’ll never let anything hurt you. It’s always been you, okay? You’re mine now,” he began gently rubbing your back.

Throughout all this, his thighs were still pressed up against your cunt, “Jake, can we go back home?” You asked, looking up at him with shiny doe eyes that made him weak in the knees. You were desperate to get back to your apartment so you could finally calm down and properly talk to him.

Jake grinned, knowing from your blushing face and your nervousness that you were horny beyond your own comprehension. He pushed his leg up to tease you even further, surprising you and eliciting a whimper from your lips, much too loud for your liking. 

“I’ll take you home, don’t you worry your sweet head. It’s a real shame we didn’t say anything earlier. You don’t know the things I would’ve done to hear you make those noises when I was younger,” he whispered into your ear, making you grip harder onto him, afraid that if you were to let go of him you’d collapse onto the floor. 

The elevator door opened to reveal your neighbour. Jake quickly let go of you, still holding onto your waist to help steady you. He acted as if nothing had just transpired, and beamed his charming smile towards the elderly lady standing in front of you, “Good evening, Mrs. Kim!” 

You were lying on Jake’s bed, his lips sucking on your neck and your legs wrapped around his waist. Your mind has been so hazy that you can’t even remember how you got here. Thanks to Jake, your jeans have been discarded on the floor, leaving you only in your panties and your thin white shirt. 

You tapped Jake on the shoulder, “Jakey,” you said breathily, “are you going to make love to me?”

Jake’s corner of his lips raised to form a devilish smirk, “As much as I’d love that, baby, I really should punish you for the way you’ve been acting. You should’ve known better, I hate being ignored. Would you say you’ve been acting like a good girl recently?” 

“No…I-I guess no-not,” you drawled, body shaking. 

“I don’t plan on going soft on you tonight, sweetheart. You know what a safe word is, right?” He asked, making you nervously nod. If he had to ask you about a safe word, you knew your mind and body would be broken by the end of the night. It made you weirdly excited. “If at any point it becomes too much for you, you can either tap me three times or say Red, you got that?” 

You nodded again, making Jake spank the side of your thigh, followed by a yelp from you.

“Words, baby. I need you to use them, or is your mind already not working properly after barely kissing?” His voice was husky.

“Yes, Jake. I understand,” you managed to spit out.

He immediately went on to strip you of your shirt and your bra, leaving you with only your dark lace panties. He turned you around on your stomach and laid your hips over his lap, leaving your ass on display for him. He took a handful of your ass and began to kiss you up and down your spine, asking you, “Pick a number, baby.”

“Twenty-three?” 

You yelped when you felt his hand roughly come in contact with your ass, leaving a stinging sensation behind, while also dampening your panties further, even though they were already soaking. Before you could even catch your breath, he spanked you again, harsher than before. 

“Twenty-one to go, baby,” he said, and even though you couldn’t see him, you were sure he was grinning ear to ear. 

He was surprisingly quick with carrying out his punishment. At this point, he was getting more and more desperate to get his dick inside you, and although he enjoyed punishing you, he knew he’d have plenty of more opportunities in the future to carry them out slower. 

Your ass was bright red, and you were wondering how on earth you were going to be able to sit down tomorrow, or for the few days after that. You hissed when you felt his warm hands come down to rub your abused skin. 

You began to mewl as he pressed started rubbing his thumb on your clit, feeling the friction of the laced fabric of your panties, making you roll back your eyes in pleasure. “God, did you get this turned on by me punishing you? I mean,what’s the point in doing it if you enjoy it so much?” He asked, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a whore that gets this wet after being spanked. I would tie you up and punish you further, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He began rubbing harder, and eventually moving your panties to the side, sliding in his ring and middle fingers. 

You mewled at the sensation of his fingers stretching you open. You wanted so desperately to turn around so you could see his beautiful face while he was ruining your body. You were becoming so desperate that you began thrusting back onto his fingers. 

“Fuck, look at you, you desperate cock slut. I think you’re all ready to take my cock.”

“Please, fuck me. Please,” you begged, making him take his fingers out of you, much to your protest. Your insides were clenching at nothing as you were desperate for something to fill you again, preferably his cock. He turned you around so you were finally facing him, back resting on his plush mattress. 

He ripped your panties off, throwing them to the floor, followed by taking stripping himself off his clothes, but before you could even take a look at it, he plunged his cock deep inside you. It was huge. Like really huge. Your back arched off the bed, as Jake slowly started moving in and out of your cunt, your moans becoming louder and louder.

“You’re so good at taking my cock already, yeah. Just like that baby,” he was gripping your hips harshly, which was definitely going to leave a bruise for tomorrow, “Your cunt was made for me, princess.”

“P-Please don’t stop, J-Jake,” you whined, unable to keep a steady voice as his cock kept hitting all the right places inside you.

“I have no plan of doing that anytime soon,” Jake was getting rougher by the moment, speeding up his thrusts, and your mind began fogging up, not being able to handle the mixture of pleasure and pain. 

"I'm go-gonna...I'm gonna cum," you managed to cry out, weakly placing a hand on his chest. However, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you. 

"Go ahead baby, cum for me," his voice was breathy. He once again began rubbing your clit with his thumb, giving you the final push before your toes curled in as an orgasm washed over you, making you roll your eyes back. Jake felt like he could've cum just by the sight of your body during your release. You looked like a goddess, your body on full display, shining with the sweat of your exhaustion. Your eyes were sultry, squinting slightly, and your body was shaking.

He didn't stop, however, chasing his own release now that he knew he managed to satisfy you. You began sobbing underneath him, "S-sensitive. Baby, p-please...p-please slow down," your eyes were shiny and pleading.

"Not a chance," Jake groaned. Your tits were bouncing as he kept thrusting harder and harder, and you were babbling incoherently as your mind slowly stopped working. A white ring formed around the base of his cock due to your release, making him even harder, if that were possible. 

"I'm going to cum inside you, okay?"

Your eyes lit up at that, and a small smile formed on your lips, much to Jake's amusement. "P-Please, Jake. Please come inside me."

You suddenly felt his seed spill inside you. It felt heavenly and warm, and you never wanted to let go, even with how sensitive your cunt became. The feeling of his seed inside you, filling you to the brim, caused you to orgasm once more, alongside him riding out his own. 

"Fuck, did you cum again?" Jake asked, feeling your cunt clenching around him again, and you nodded softly, your body beyond exhaustion. You weren't sure if you could move at this point. 

He stayed inside you but leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead and rub your hair. "You're already glowing, you know?" You blushed at him saying that. He chuckled at you, "Oh, so you get shy on me now? You were begging me to cum inside your cunt barely two minutes ago and now you're getting all shy?" He teased.

You giggle at him. "I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you whispered, "Hopefully my stamina will be better next time." 

You were startled by Jake's sudden burst of laughter and were confused as he began brushing the hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. 

"Is something wrong, Jake?" You asked.

His grin was still wide, "Nothing is wrong, princess. I just can't believe you think I'm done with you."

You woke up to the feeling of strong arms wrapped around your torso firmly, and Jake’s breath fanning the back of your neck. A little bit of sunlight was peaking through the curtains of his bedroom and you could hear the sound of traffic coming from the outside. 

You placed a kiss on Jake’s hand, groaning as he pulled you closer to him, your body jolting in pain at every slight movement. “Jake, I’m sore, be careful,” you said with a raspy voice. You definitely damaged your vocal cords after yesterday’s activities. 

You could hear Jake chuckle being muffled into your skin, as he was peppering kisses all over the back of your head, neck, and chest, “I guess that was my fault, sorry.”

God, his low morning voice was so attractive. If you had more energy in you, you would have pounced on him now and started bouncing on his cock the way you wish you could’ve yesterday. You needed to have a conversation with him about letting you be on top next time. 

He was rubbing your hips now, trying to soothe the bruises and the marks left all over your body. “I don’t think I even have any clothes that can cover up all these hickeys,” you sighed disappointedly. 

“You could just walk around like that, no? Show everyone how I made you mine last night, and how you’re off limits now.”

“Jake, it’s been a day and you’re already getting this possessive?”

“Can’t help it. My girlfriend is the most perfect being in this world. I’ve had to fend off guys from you since we were kids, and I don’t plan on stopping,” he mumbled into your shoulder blade. 

“Girlfriend?” You asked slowly and timidly.

“What, would you rather be my wife? I wouldn’t mind that either. We could have a wedding on a beach like you’ve always wanted. We could move into a big house in the suburbs, and settle down. I could get you pregnant with my kids,” you felt his erection stiffen as he said that, and continued, “Five minimum, I’m thinking,” he chuckled. 

You slapped his arm and groaned, “Jake! It’s way too early for that, you know that,” you couldn’t help but smile to yourself though. 

Jake laughed at your whiny voice, “Okay, okay. I guess girlfriend will work, for now.”

“Yeah, I like that, boyfriend,” you giggled, finally turning around to face him. 

He pecked your lips before saying, “You know, I actually have a story to tell you.”

You nodded in response, giving him the go-ahead.

“Yesterday wasn’t our first kiss,” he said with a reminiscent smile on his face.

You raised your eyebrows, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, “What do you mean?”

He began brushing your hair out of your face before continuing, “On your eighteenth birthday, you remember how I took you out to the club because you could legally drink then?” 

You nodded. You apparently had so much vodka that night that you ended up in the toilet with a stressed-out Jake holding back your hair as you emptied out the contents of your stomach for fifteen minutes. 

“You don’t remember much from that night, so I had to explain to you most of what happened, but I kept out one key detail. After you had your,” he looked around as he was wondering for a number, “sixth shot of vodka, I believe, you pulled me up to the dance floor and kissed me, right before you fainted and fell on your ass in front of everyone.”

“You’re joking!” You screeched.

“It happened! I remember it like the back of my hand. I mean I planned on getting drunk with you but after seeing how fucked up you got I couldn’t get myself to drink more than a beer, so I remember it all,” he laughed to himself. He thought of how his eighteen-year-old self would be so proud to know that you were finally his. 

“God, that’s humiliating. Why didn’t you say anything?” You pressed your face against his chest, trying to hide away from him in shame.

“I didn’t want you to react like this. I know you're embarrassed but, I couldn't think about anything other than that kiss for the next few weeks. A part of me was relieved you didn't remember it, but a part of me wishes you did. Maybe we wouldn't have gotten into that mess yesterday if we just realized our feelings earlier," he pondered. 

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, "Don't think about that, okay? Let's not focus on the past because right now, all that matters to me is that you are here and in my arms. And I'm never letting you go, Jake," your eyes went sparkly in the way that always caused Jake to become weak.

"Fuck, I love you so much," he whispered, placing a kiss on your lips once more.

#jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #jake smut #jake x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enhypen angst

[yuwuta]

love f2l where he’s already hopelessly in love with you and pining in a way that’s so obvious to everyone else but you, but also love the moment in f2l where it clicks that “oh shit… i think my friend just turned me on.” even better when one person doesn’t realize they’ve turned the other one on and they’ve just gotta live with the memory replaying in their head for a few days. friends keep saying they’re distracted and they just nod their head like yeah uh sorry… was uh… sorry what were we talking about? bc these days if it’s not about that moment, zero processing has gone on 

megumi and satoru are the worst at coping with this. 

for megumi, it’s such a 180, a switch has been completely turned on when it happens, that it makes him upset. he can’t even tell if he’s angry that it happened in the first place, that he couldn’t tell he was attracted to you before, that he can’t stop thinking about it now, or that it’s possible that other people could have already had this realization and be thinking of you like this too. every option brings a mean scowl to his face. and it’s embarrassing above all because you were just trying to take off your shoes. when lifting your leg and holding onto to his bicep wasn’t enough, you crouch down to struggle with the straps instead. megumi sighs—all he wanted to do was get your drunken ass home in one piece and now you’re crouched down in the middle of the street, and when he looks down to see what’s taking so long, that’s when it hits him. you bent down like that, looking up at him and groaning and pulling on his shirt and whining for him to help you does very terrible things to him. and it shouldn’t, you’re only calling for him because you lack the hand-eye coordination (and clearly critical thinking because this is the middle of the road and you cannot walk barefoot) right now to undo your shoes, but it’s your blown pupils and pout and the calling for him—you have to stop whining. and saying his name. immediately—not to mention the angle and tilt of your head to look up at him. megumi can barely help himself, much less you, which is why he grumbles, hoists you up by the scruff of your neck so you’re standing up right. you giggle in your haze but megumi just hisses his teeth, tells you “stop looking at me like that,” and before your mind can catch up, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder because looking at your face is not an option right now. and this is for the best for everyone—now your feet don’t hurt, you’ve stopped groaning, there’s no more eye contact, and megumi has the rest of the walk back to your apartment to contemplate what the fuck just happened to him 

for satoru, it’s actually partially his fault, because not only is it so far from sexual and yet turns him on anyway, but he’s so annoying that his actions lead to a cascade of other terrible turn-ons that and now it’s a cyclical problem. you’re just borrowing something of his for the convince of it—his glasses because it’s sunny, or maybe his jacket because it’s cold, something small and innocent—but it ignites such a strong flame in him that his visceral reaction is to snatch it right back from you, and run away like some school girl. “hey—satoru what the fuck, come on, you weren’t even using it!” you call, but your voice is already an echo at the speed he’s scurried away from you. the flash vision of you in his belongings was terrible, but it’s the memory of it that makes it worse, brings a blush to his face, and leave him shaking his head like a crazy person because what the fuck this is insane. you didn’t even do anything so he has no reason to act like this, there’s no way the slightest insinuation of you thinking of him/his belongings as something to borrow, or hold, or have should make him react this way, but it does. and he hates it. and he’s not normal about it at all, and it takes you confronting him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth, asking him what the fuck is wrong with him, which is warranted, but worse because that also leaves him red from his face to his check with Awful Realization Numbers 2 and 3: (2) you usually just Deal with him being strange, but right now you’re mad and you’re really hot when you’re mad, and (3) you’re very close to choking him out right now and if you did, he wouldn’t stop you

yuuji is the one who has had this effect on more people than he knows, which is hilarious to think about because he’s either completely oblivious, or using his charm to play innocent. and when you have that moment, you’re definitely left stunned. you were just fishing for more snacks for your self-care night—a tradition that used to between you and nobara, but now includes megumi, and most times yuuji, but tonight, he had plans with todo, which you were grateful for because there’s no way you could have been around him after what happened. in a hurry to grab his water bottle from the fridge, yuuji doesn’t bother you with words to maneuver through the cramped kitchen, just mindlessly puts his hands on your hips, lifts you, pivots, puts you down, grabs his water bottle, puts it on the counter, lifts you again, pivots, and places you right back where you were, flashing you a million-dollar smile, before grabbing his bottle and rushing out to catch the bus. you’re left blinking, body on autopilot as you finally reach for the chips, and zombie-like when you make your way back to the living room where nobara’s putting a sheet mask on megumi. when you’re finally seated on the couch, you blink for the first time, blurting out to nobody in particular, “is… is itadori hot?” and it’s comedic how quick, blasé, and autonomic the in-sync replies from both megumi and nobara are, “yes”, “unfortunately.” oh. well that’s reassuring you suppose. you might have been the last to realize it, but at least you’re not alone. 

if you told yuuta he had the ability to seduce anybody he would probably just laugh awkwardly and think it’s some kind of joke. the great irony is that rooming with him has left you with many instances to confirm that he is attractive, but the defining moment is when you realize just how much yuuta has grown in his year abroad. your apartment is nice and relatively modern, but there are still some tight spaces. usually you and yuuta just giggle while shuffling around each other, but today, you feel like you’ve gotten between a rock and another rock because when did yuuta—your scrawny, awkward, endearing yuuta—gain fifty pounds of muscle? it’s a terrible moment for you to be squished between him and the tiny enclosure of your storage closet and even worse that he’s the one who apologies, and smiles, and carries on reaching for the spare napkins while you’re left with the filthy thoughts about your best friend. 

#can you tell i have a favorite au yes or yes 😇😇😇 #wrote this instead of actually working on a real wip bc idea blurbs >>>> fic progress #i dont know if this applies to nanami bc i feel like he always knows ur attractive and u always know he's attractive LMFAO #u both just deal with it as a facet of life yk. hilarious #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk smau #gojo smut

[slut4thebroken]

Teacher’s Pet

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most. 

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay. 

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk. 

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work. 

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively. 

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense. 

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh. 

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink. 

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned. 

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.” 

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.” 

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.” 

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?” 

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.” 

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.” 

“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly. 

“No, but,” 

“Then I think we’re done here.” 

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now. 

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.  

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze. 

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little. 

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments. 

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit. 

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained. 

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile. 

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused. 

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter. 

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly. 

“See them?” 

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone. 

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.” 

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.  

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back. 

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.” 

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down. 

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again. 

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention. 

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?” 

“Anything else?” 

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again. 

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said. 

“Um, I- I’m not sure…” 

“Feel free to use your notes.” 

Fuck. 

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly. 

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself. 

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back. 

“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings. 

“But,” 

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave. 

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on. 

“Professor?” You finally asked. 

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier. 

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk. 

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,” 

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again. 

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now. 

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you. 

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.” 

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.  

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.  

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not. 

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.” 

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.” 

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush. 

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly. 

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours. 

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk. 

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you. 

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in. 

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around. 

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you. 

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair. 

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.” 

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy. 

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far. 

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy. 

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter. 

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” 

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh. 

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.” 

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor. 

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg. 

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other. 

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months. 

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.  

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly. 

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened. 

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.” 

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago. 

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.” 

“That’s good… Anything else?” 

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.” 

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?” 

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.” 

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you. 

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.  

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words. 

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical. 

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?” 

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. 

“Yes.” You whispered shakily. 

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.” 

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock. 

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.” 

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh. 

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty. 

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet. 

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you. 

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?” 

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced. 

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes. 

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.” 

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you. 

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face. 

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock. 

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach. 

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness. 

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.” 

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..” 

“Should I choose for you?” 

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm. 

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure. 

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations. 

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.  

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity. 

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need. 

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing. 

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal. 

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again. 

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances. 

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.” 

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead. 

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste. 

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.” 

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #cillian murphy

[riordanness]

i wish you would — [p.jackson]

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: nightmare mention

requested: no

I hesitate for a second before I knock on his door. I don’t want to wake him, but I’ve come this far already, and I know deep down he won’t mind.

I knock, and there’s a clattering sound inside the Poseidon cabin, like Percy has tripped over a chair or something on his way to the door.

The door swings open, and there he stands, in flannel pyjama pants and a navy blue hoodie. His dark hair is messed up, and he looks both alert and half asleep.

“Y/n, hey,” he says. “It’s the middle of the night. What happened?”

I shrug one shoulder, suddenly nervous. Which is ridiculous. Percy is my best friend. Why am I nervous to talk to him?

“I’m sorry,” I apologise. “I had a really bad nightmare and—“

I don’t get the time to finish. Percy immediately pulls me inside and closes his door, and then envelopes me in a hug. I melt instantly into his familiar embrace, burying my face in his hoodie. He smells like sea salt and oreos.

“Hey, trouble?” he asks softly.

I pull my head away from the hug, leaning back just enough to look into his eyes. “Yeah?” I kind of whisper in response.

“What was your nightmare about?”

I take a second to answer. “You. Being in pain. I don’t really know why or what was happening to you but I knew you weren’t okay at all and it was somehow my fault. And…” My voice doesn’t have the strength to continue.

Percy’s sea green eyes are so full of differing emotions I can’t even tell them all apart. “Y/n,” he says quietly, and the sadness in his voice makes my heart break. “You don’t need to worry about me, you know.”

“I know,” I try to protest weakly, “but—“

“No buts,” he shushes me, his index finger on my mouth. “Just hush, trouble.” He unravels his arms from the hug, takes my hand by the fingers, and leads me to his bunk. “Sleep in here tonight, okay?”

“With you?” I mean to think it, but I’m sleepy enough that my brain sends the words through my mouth instead.

Percy kind of coughs and kind of laughs at the same time. “Yeah, with me. If that’s, like, okay with you and everything. I just figured it would help.”

“Yes. Yes yes, it would help,” I say quickly, smiling finally.

“Okay.” Percy grins.

Once I’m comfortably in his arms and under his navy blue sheets, my head on his chest and my fingers intertwined with the strings on his hoodie, I finally relax. I’m warm all through, and I don’t know if it’s because of Percy… or because of Percy.

“Hey, Perce?” I whisper into the darkness.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, just as quiet.

“You know how sometimes people fall in love, and they don’t even know it at all?”

“Like Silena and Beckendorf?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Like them. And like—“

“If you’re gonna say Katie and Travis, I’ve already bet twenty bucks on them getting together by the end of this summer.”

“Percy, shush, I’m trying to say something important,” I whack him gently on the chest. “But yeah, they’re totally and a hundred percent in love. Like, the rivals-to-lovers thing they’ve got going on is so cute.”

“Personally I like best-friends-to-lovers a lot more,” Percy admits softly, and I go quiet.

“Me too.”

Even though it’s pitch dark in his cabin right now, I can feel his smile.

“Hey, trouble?”

“Why do you call me that?” I ask, instead of answering.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer,” I protest.

“That is totally an answer. You asked a question and I answered it. That makes it an answer.”

I roll my eyes, then remember he can’t see me. “Well, I want an actual answer.”

“Okay.” He reaches up and ruffles my hair, and instead of shoving his hand away like I usually would, I let him. “I call you trouble because no matter how much you try to be good and perfect and sweet all the time, trouble always finds you, and that’s adorable funny.”

I roll my eyes again. “Oh really,” I say flatly.

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

There’s silence for long enough for me to wonder if Percy has fallen asleep, and then he speaks again.

“So, trouble,” he says.

“Mhm?”

“You know I’m like, in love with you.”

I take a moment to even process that. “Huh?”

“I’m in love with you, trouble.” The arm that’s around me is suddenly a little tense. “Have been for a while. Uh, hopefully you don’t find that weird. Sorry.”

“Percy,” I half laugh. “I’m in love with you too, idiot.”

“Oh. Wait. Really? You are?”

“Of course.” Even though it’s dark, I know his face better than anyone’s, and I sit up just enough to kiss him. If it’s even possible, I get even more warm. “And just for the record, I like best-friends-to-lovers best too.”

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #walker scobell #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x me #perseus jackson #book percy #percy jackson fanfiction #book percy jackson

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever painted a car? My uncle used to say that you should never take up any hobby that requires you to have a special room dedicated just to it. Paint booths definitely qualify, but you can't really listen to what he says: that hypocrite didn't exactly install his toilet in the middle of his living room. I just use the gas station.

No, painting a car is one of the great experiences in our life. If you do everything right, real painters will tell you, then your car will turn out pretty nice. Unfortunately, one of those "everythings" is "have twenty years of professional experience doing this every day." The rest of us have to tolerate a widely variable amount of crappy outcomes.

Runs, bugs caught in the goop, dirt, stray dogs running by and farting on your stuff. Everything bad is going to happen to you, and the first-time painter is going to get all worked up about it. I get all worked up about it, despite my total lack of perfectionism in every other aspect of automobile ownership, which is why I use a special technique.

Have you ever bought a car from a bad previous owner? Yeah, we all have. Dudes (and it's almost exclusively dudes) who do bad mods. Poorly-done repairs. Strange noises and rattles. Torn interiors. Questionable wiring. And: bad paint. All I have to do is close my eyes (this actually improves the quality) and pretend that some other dipshit is the one painting the car.

Then I immediately put it in the back of my property and forget about it for a year, year and a half. By the time I go to dig it out, I've convinced myself that I bought it like that, and any imperfections no longer bother me because it's some other asshole's fault. I strongly recommend you try this, even if you only have room in your backyard for a mere four or six cars. They do make tarps, after all, and you can reuse them as drop cloths when you try to paint wheels in your bathroom.

[rosemarydisaster]

I think that the frustrating thing with the current plotline is that it comes so close to addressing Batman's flaws and failures but it all ends in complete absolution from any past mistakes because his evil personality was the one whispering into his ear.

Sure Bruce says that it's still his fault but everyone around him is like "nope, no problem. We're cool". It feels cheap because you end up doing to the character what Zur did to Batman: take out any possible flaws. Now anytime Bruce was overly paranoid or controlling (especially with his loved ones) can be attributed to Zur's manipulation and that's just... Such a bland option.

They could still make it interesting, addressing the damage. Have Bruce deal with the fall out of the trauma he has inflicted on his family. It could be so interesting having the kids wanting to forgive him because it's easier to blame it on the murder robot than addressing their own feelings. Having it resurface. Bruce martyrizing himself over it while they try to absolve him because they simply don't want to admit their father/friend/mentor hurt them. But that's not what they're going for.

To me it looks like this is some "soft reboot" to allow the Batfam to move past their problems and not have to address them. The same way Jason's failsafe thing is only going to be a lesson learned about what was truly important to him: saving people. The way all of this is lining up, I think they just want to take a more wholesome approach to the family without having to actually work through their very valid issues with each other/Batman.

Again, I'm a sucker for any Batfam and I would love for the kids to actually have a functional loving father but there were more interesting ways to take this. I'll have more thoughts once it's finished, things can change a lot. But just wanted to get it off my chest.

#batfam #batman 148 #batman #jason todd #zur en arrh #batman meta #don't pay too much attention to me

[r0-boat]

Hello there (general kenobi)

SO! I was wondering if i could request the kings reacting to Kings, MC having mental breakdown or like crying all alone somewhere but suddenly hide it (at least try to) when they discover the crying

I just had a good cry so i got curious later to how they would React

Thank you! Luv u ! And love your writing! 💕😍😍

Whb Kings reaction to:

Mc having a mental breakdown and crying

Cw: angst, hurt/comfort

Intro

The memories of Gabriel killing your best friend playing your head You had been so strong up to this moment... Why... Why now?

Nonetheless seeing a murder in front of you would be hard on any human especially one who had lost their parents in a homicide.

You try to tell yourself that he's okay and you will be okay. But it's hard to believe when the same angel is hunting you down and his mark shows crystal clear on your skin, a mark you try desperately to wash off. Soon everything came crashing down being being ripped from your home to an unfamiliar place the smell of blood and bodies angel and devil on the streets of Gehenna. You locked yourself into your room unable to hold back your emotion.

Satan

He practically ripped the door off its hinges. Even though you have the door locked he can sense you are in distress locked door or not you are in danger and he is not going to let it stop him.

You weren't in danger no angel has broken in, You are not hurt You are not bleeding but you still cry, scooping you into his arms It doesn't matter what you were crying about You are still crying, You are still hurting, And he will cradle you into his arms until those tears dry. Put the soft voice he'll ask you what's wrong He knows he cannot use his normal voice because he'll just scare you. Through your broken sobs He knows you're talking about Gabriel and the war. He clutches his teeth anger is bubbling inside him but he keeps it down. He swears that he will protect you and that the lives lost will not be in vain.

Those angels will pay. Gabriel will pay.

Mammon

He immediately cradles you holding you close your small frame against his large chest. He picks you up carrying you to his bedroom laying you down on soft silk he lays next to you. A sad human must be pampered.

Mammon is not a good talker but he knows how to take care of the things he loves. If you need your alone time he understands he'll make sure your treatment today will be of utmost importance. If you want he will stay with you being there to be a big teddy bear for you to hold and cry and an ear to listen. You'll be bathed in his bathroom tonight You will have all of your favorites prepared and delivered. You will not leave his room You will not leave his side.

Leviathan

He walks in your room more like barges into your room. Locks do not exist in his castle. Only for him to freeze his eyes going wide when he sees you crawled up crying. He feels his heart sink into a pit in his stomach.

He feels like shrinking into a puddle He knows part of this was his fault. But he doesn't know how to talk to people. He doesn't know how to console you He doesn't know how to help!!

He leaves the room ordering his servants to do anything to make you feel better or else they'll get hanged. To hell with his jealousy, you come first in times like these!

Beel

You know what makes him feel better? Going out and having fun. However sometimes that doesn't work with certain people. As his nobles do what they can to console you. He barrels through the door. loads of snacks in his arms (He didn't know which one you wanted so he just got everything)

Sometimes some people rather just be left alone during that time but feels about just can't knowing that you're on the other side of the door hurting. Knocking at your door constantly checking in on you. He's just worried.

Once you calm down he will listen to everything you have to say while the two of you eat snacks.

Lucifer

Lucifer is not well versed in mental health of humans So whatever he does he goes by the book whatever his books on human say he does. Being the extremely direct demon he is He will directly ask you if something is wrong and what has you so sad. However since he is not well versed in human mental health he is kind of scrambling, He is trying everything trying to stay calm. In the end he sits next to you petting your head until you calm down.

He does not like when you shed your tears in sorrow, They do not feel as good as when you shut them not of anger or pleasure or fear.

Oh boy if he hears what Gabriel did He will personally deal with his brother himself. Lucifer does not take kindly to angels or devils that hurt his beloved one move over Satan Lucifer needs a 'family reunion' with his brother.

#whb lucifer #whb leviathan #whb satan #whb beelzebub #whb mammon #whb x reader #whb angst #whb #wihib x reader #wihib #no beta read I keep forgetting to edit things before I post AAAA

[polifandom]

This is the most sexually and romantically charged scene in the entire show, let me elaborate...

John is angry, frustrated, loosing it – and to let steam out he decides to do just the thing that goes against all he's ever done, all he believes in: he humiliates Gale. Because that's what he's trying to do; he's angry that Gale can function and he can't so he puts all his frustrations out on him.

Except, Gale doesn't react.

He doesn't react because he doesn't want to make a fool out of John, doesn't want John to make a fool out of himself. John is going on and on about nonsense and Gale is just staring at him, not saying anything because he cares for John and knows this isn't him, that he's trying to get a rise out of him. He only reacts when John puts his frustration on someone else.

I imagine their dialogue would go something like that:

"You're angry, I get it. But it's not their fault, John."

"So it's yours, then?"

"Fine, it is. That what want you wanna hear? Let the others be. I can handle you myself, Bucky."

And the fight?!?!?!???? That's a lovers fight if I've ever seen one.

Love isn't always beautiful. Or nice. Or gentle. Sometimes one person is loosing it, and the other doesn't have the condition to be leveled for the both of them. So they fight. And it's ugly, and nasty, and petty, and aggressive.

But then again, who else can you loose your cool with if not the person you love the most? Because they can take it. They know you.

They will stay.

Gale will stay.

#masters of the air #mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale buck cleven #buck cleven #john bucky egan #bucky egan #mota episode 8

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Closeted Theories 

A.N: Was finishing up my other Neuvillette series and this one just dropped into my head. Mighta have something to do with the fact I finished the Neuvillette storyquest the other day and he’s still on the brain. That was an awesome quest!! Definitely one of my hallmark favorites!

Genshin Impact MasterList

------

Picture this scenario: 

You were currently locked in a storage room closet, in the Palais Mermonia with Monsieur Neuviellette by your side.

Got it in your head?

Hard to picture, wasn’t it? 

Yeah, it would have been hard for you too, only a scant five minutes ago. 

But right now, this is your reality. 

You heard a gaggle giggling on the other side of the door as it shut. You dimly heard the lock as well. Then the voice of Sedene spoke over it, “Don’t worry, we will relieve you in an hour!” 

Then you heard the giggling and paddling of feet retreat. You just blinked at the door for a bit before finally looking up at Monsieur Neuvillette. It was a rare sight to behold, actually. He had frozen like a statue as he stared blankly at the door in front of him. 

“Check back with me, when you processed this.” you stated, “This is a lot even for a human.”  

You looked around the store room which was filled with mostly documents and books. It was big enough for two people to fit just so and had a single light on the ceiling. Thinking back you weren’t sure how you managed to get in this predicament but before you could try to analyze it further, Neuvillette stirred. Ahh, looks like he was coming back this way. It only took about five minutes. 

“Ahh, Miss. Y/N, I’d like to apologize for them. I don’t know what they hope to accomplish by this but I promise they mean no ill will.”

“Of course not. Those little younguns couldn’t do ill will if they tried, mischievous on the other hand is another matter. Anyway, can’t you break down the door or something?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette held his chin in thought, “Yes, easily. Though I hate to destroy such workmanship. It’s hardly the doors fault….” 

You smack your lips together, “Well, unless a Hydro Dragon suddenly knows how to pick a lock, we don’t know exactly how long we will be here for. Besides, isn't this getting in the way of your business to attend to? 

“Sedene clearly said they’d be back in an hour. My next meeting is scheduled for then. I don’t have any pressing matters right now. However, I would usually be using this time to get ahead on paperwork.” 

“...Hm. So they planned this down to the letter. I mean can’t have the Chief Justice of Fontaine and its Iudex, missing important functions over….being locked in a closet, now can we?” 

Neuvillette shook his head, “No, sounds quite lucidious to say it out loud like that.”  

“Equally as ridiculous as our reality. However they should be lucky I’m not claustrophobic.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette swung his eyes around to you, “Claustrophobic?” 

“Yes, some humans will start panicking in a tight place. They begin to feel the wall closing in on them and such.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette eyes widened at this, “Truly?! I hadn’t realized. And you are alright? I’ll break down the door immediately!” 

You reached out a hand in front of him, “I said I was fine! I’m not claustrophobic, only mildly amused and mostly annoyed. The only thing I worry about is how dus…” You paused in the process of wiping a finger over a shelf, rubbing them together, “Not so much as a speck of dust. Most impeccable.” 

“Of course not. I have learned that if left unattended a room like this will begin to rot. To take care of that, we have those hired to routinely clean spaces like this.” 

“Nothing escapes you, does it?” 

“Except for this.” He let out a sigh, “Rest assured, I shall have to give them a stern talking too.” 

You head bobbed up and down once, as you managed to find a reasonably comfortable spot to lean on the wall. 

Silence floated for a while before Neuvillette finally heaved a deep sigh, “Try as I might, I cannot see the reason for this insipid affair. Whatever possessed them to attempt this thing?” 

You snorted once making lavender eyes lock with yours. When you didn’t say anything more Neuvillette asked, “Why do I feel like you have an idea? Can you not share it with me if that’s the case?” 

You looked away then, “It would only be a theory at this point. I’d hate to paint them with conjecture.” 

“Let us hear it anyway. We have nothing else to do, until then and besides I’d like a better picture of what is going on before I speak with them on this matter. Perhaps there are some critical clues I am missing.” 

“....” 

Neuvillette watched as you absently began to “arrange” the books on the shelf next to you, your eyes not meeting his. Meanwhile his lavender eyes did not depart from you.

A lull prolonged itself until…

“Miss. Y/N are you….embarrassed, perhaps?” 

You snapped your head up, “What the-?! What makes you say that?” 

“Well, you have…” 

“I don’t want to play by play.” You interrupted knowing that Neuvillette was going to literally tell you all the actions he observed to arrive at this conclusion. It was bad enough that he was looking at you the entire time in expectation and equally bad that there was only room between you for a person to barely slip through. 

You cleared your throat turning away, “Actually I was thinking about it and it might be kinda, slightly my fault.” 

“I hardly doubt that but what do you feel you have done?” 

“.....read….scene….idea….” 

“Excuse me? Could you speak up?” 

“I said….” You jerked your head up only to stop when you realized that Neuvillette had closed the distance between you and was looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Clearly he had gotten closer to hear you better but still. 

You swallowed, snatching your eyes away from him, “I read the Melusines a story a little while ago.” 

“Yes, that doesn’t sound so horrible. In fact, I thank you for taking time out of your day to spend with them.” 

“Yes, yes, you're welcome. It’s fine. It’s just….they may have taken a story a little too…..realistically.” 

“In what manner?” 

“It was a romance story. One scene…the couple was trapped in a storeroom, you know?” 

“I see. And what does this have to do with our predicament now?” 

You almost banged your head on the shelf. You did not want to explain it in detail. Most humans would pick up and put two and two together. However, given that Neuvilletter wasn’t human, you couldn’t and didn't expect him to have two and two much less know to put them together in this instance.  

You heave a sigh. That still didn’t mean you wanted to explain this. 

“...I’m sorry. This is making you uncomfortable. We should cease talking about this then.” 

You felt Neuvillette put as much space between you as he was able. Part of you was grateful. Being locked in a storeroom with Neuvillette of all people was doing nothing for your nerves although you pride yourself in comporting yourself regardless of the situation. You knew it really wasn’t fair to keep Neuvillette in the dark, especially when he genuinely did not have the pieces needed to put together the puzzle. 

“It’s a common plot device in romance stories. When a couple is locked in a confined room it’s used to further their relationship.” You said this in one breath not looking up. 

“....” 

You could practically hear the gears in Neuvillette’s head turning. 

“I see. They had hoped that our relationship would progress and that is why they did this.” 

You hoped your laugh wasn’t forced, “What relationship? We don’t have one. We are just friends.” 

“Yes, we are friends.” 

You bobbed your head absently and just when you were beginning to find your footing, you felt Neuvillette move. Looking up, you startled to see him looming over you.

Wait, why was he even closer than last time?

Your throat went dry. 

“Rest assured, I will still express my displeasure at such extreme methods but I shouldn't let their goodwill go to waste. I suppose they were getting tired of my lack of courage.” 

“.....W-w-what are you talking about?” 

Neuvillette lifted his arms and trapped you within, his hands holding onto the shelf in front of you.

Hold on! What is this situation?!

You were pretty sure that Monsieur Neuvillette had never read such a scene before so why was he an accomplished actor now?

You knew you were looking up at him like a trapped boar. 

“I think I finally understand what message they were trying to send. I suppose they were getting tired of me taking my time. Had I had my way, I would still be taking time. Although I have an abundance of time, the fact is you do not. It’s unfair of me to continue to make you wait.” 

By now your head and eyes were spinning. Why did it seem like this went from 0 to 100 real quick? You weren’t even following anymore. 

“Miss. Y/N, when this is over, will you accompany me to dinner at Hotel Debord? Ah, I suppose I should convey my feelings first, shouldn’t I? Forgive me, allow me a minute to gather my bearings.” 

You turned so your back was to the shelf, looking up at Neuvillette, “H-h-hold on! Aren’t you…? What are you even doing? We are friends…” Your eyes dart back and forth, “...aren’t we?” 

“Of course, I am loath to lose our friendship but I confess I find myself thinking about…deeper things when it comes to us.” 

“Y-y-you do?” 

Of course you always like Monsieur Neuvillette but you’d never in your wildest dreams thought that a friendship with him could turn into more. You were just happy that he trusted you enough to become friends with you. The two of you had met through the Traveler actually. And being a Descender yourself, you had become privy to the fact that he was the Hydro Dragon. As the Traveler moved on to other nations with the goal of finding their sibling you lingered in Fontaine finding the nation agreeing with you. Fontaine eventually became your home base even as you travel to other nations. Unlike the Traveler you had no lofty goals in mind. 

“I confess this is so. However perhaps I’ve been spending too much time pondering on the idea instead of acting on it. The Melusines must have picked up on my feelings.” 

Ah, now that might explain why the Melusines went through a period of forcing you to read just about every romance book they could come across. Was this all research to help Monsieur Neuvillette?  

Your previous annoyance at being locked in a storage room was quickly dwindling even from the little bit you had. You hoped that you hadn’t displayed any odd tendencies when Monsieur Neuvillette was concerned that the Melusines picked up on. You thought you had had an impenetrable shield. 

“They had urged me to at least talk to you about it but I had refused. I wanted to ponder this a little more and see if it had merit. However, although I have learned more about humans, the complexities of this kind of thing still perplexes me. Sedene did present to me a list of findings about your behavior that made me think that perhaps you might feel more on the subject than you let on.” 

You stiffened and replied in which you hoped with a coolness that belied your feelings, “Such as?” 

“You have brought me meals when unasked for.” 

“We are friends. I’m interested in your health and you are busy.  Thought I’d help out here and there. There is nothing untoward about that.” 

“You made some of them yourself.” 

“Again, friendship.” 

“I have no basis for such things. Perhaps friends do make each other meals. This was a thought I came to as well. Next, they have observed that when I leave, your gaze lingers.” 

Your right eyebrow twitched, “....I’m making sure you leave.” 

That sounded lame even to your ears but you challenged it by looking Neuvillette straight in the eye. You would not bend first. 

“....and they have heard you give a…and I quote, ‘an heartrending sigh.’” 

You would have spat at this and your face showed. You looked away folding your arms, “Denied!! What does a ‘heartrending sigh’ even sound like? I didn’t swoon like a maiden.” 

“So you admit that you did in fact sigh?” 

Your whole face twitched this time, “Denied! You need to do better than this! It’s all circumstantial at best!” 

“Very well then. I’m not sure I should reveal this but….apparently, there were some Melusines in earshot when you and Navia were having a private conversation. They heard Navia ask when you were quote “going to make your intentions known.” And your reply was, and I quote, “When a boar flies and all the water in Fontaine is set on fire.”” 

Given that they were Melusines, in earshot was probably a generous term. You couldn’t help but to slap both hands over your face. Everything within you wanted to deny it but you couldn't very well make a liar out of both the Melusines and Navia. 

Checkmate. 

“Not to worry, I did admonish them about listening to private conversations such as those.” 

“I should find the nearest volcano in Natlan and jump in it.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s eyes widened as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Don’t even joke about such things Y/N!” 

You still hadn’t raised your head. 

“Miss. Y/N, would it be wrong of us to try to see if our relationship can grow deeper?” 

Your voice was muffled by your hands, “Why, you want it to?” 

“Hm, I believe I would. You?” 

“....I’m amenable to it.” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s mouth quirked, “I’m pleased to hear this. Won’t you look at me?” 

“Maybe after we get out of here.” 

Ahh, you were being shy about this. A chuckle escaped the Hydro Dragon. You reached one hand to slap him in the chest, “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, please be silent!” 

The chuckle turned into a laugh then. 

Then you felt him stepping away, “Very well. I know the benefits of having to gather oneself. We will have plenty of time to address this. Ah, what did you say to dinner?” 

You turned away from him, as you dropped your hands from your face, once again “arranging” the books.

A small smile made its way to your face as you replied softly, “Sure. I’ll be there.” 

#neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic

[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chapter 4 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

//

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: language, recreational drinking, depiction of a panic attack, there is a quick moment where you can infer that reader thinks vernon might be actively su*cidal but that is not the case and this is not outright stated, nip stim, dirty talk, piv sex, reader has a high fever but no specific illness is mentioned, a (verbal) fight with some yelling

wc: 6700

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

5 months ago

Five texts went unanswered.

I’m sorry.

I was so fucked up, I wasn’t saying what I meant.

Call me so I can explain.

I’m really sorry.

Please, Vernon.

Each time, they delivered, but no response came. You thought you might feel better if he told you to go away. The silence felt too open, like nothing was settled. Like maybe you just hadn’t said the right thing yet. Like maybe you could - or should - keep trying.

Four weeks passed; you tried not to let it drown you, tried to tread above the rising water of the situation. You swam through guilt, your own anger, guilt again. The knowledge of what had upset him nibbled at your toes like fish you couldn’t see in the murky depths. You tried to pretend it wasn’t there, that it was only seaweed underfoot.

You tried to reason with yourself; you hadn’t done anything that bad. He’d been upset because you’d implied he’d get bored of you someday - even though of course he would - and he thought… you didn’t know, he thought that was an attack on his character?

(You knew that wasn’t why he was mad.)

Or, because you’d implied that he would leave, when you were the one who’d gone silent before? That was valid, you thought. You had been the one to make him chase, when your grey days swallowed you up.

(You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, either.)

You kicked at the fish, kept swimming on.

Three times, you found yourself on the brink of coming clean to Chan. The first time, it had almost escaped from your mouth, prompted by nothing but your own need to hear someone absolve you; you wanted to tell Chan I think I hurt him, so he could say, it doesn’t sound like it’s your fault.

Chan didn’t lie to you, though, even when you wanted him to. He wouldn’t tell you it wasn’t your fault, because it was. So, you tucked the words back in, zipped them up safely.

The next time, he’d asked - “You still… with that guy?” He’d made a vague hand motion that must have meant still seeing, or still sleeping with.

I messed it up again.

I think I liked him too much.

“It’s been like a month,” you said lightly, like it was no big deal. “We’ve been busy.”

His sideways look was scalding. Chan didn’t lie to you; Chan was used to you lying to him, knew all the signs.

He let it go anyway.

Maybe he knew those signs, too. Maybe he knew without you telling him that you’d let the bunny rabbit instincts win - that you’d hid, scared, the second your fragile, broken brain told you to.

The third time, you almost told him all of it, even that it was Vernon. Chan was having dinner at your apartment, helping you clean up after, when his phone buzzed on the table.

“Hey, hyung,” he’d answered, tilting his head to grip the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he ran water in the sink and started rinsing the plates. “Yeah, I’m in. I don’t know, probably in like twenty minutes? Fifteen if I make all the green lights.”

You listened absently as you picked up the rest of the table - napkins in the trash, utensils tight in one hand, now-empty wine glasses in the other.

“Oh,” Chan said, surprised. “Vernon, too? Nice. Should I stop for beer since there’ll be more of us?”

You dropped a wine glass. Chan helped you sweep, and then you ran the vacuum cleaner. Still, you kept finding errant pieces of glass for days. You carried them carefully to the garbage.

It felt fitting, that hearing his name had caused this.

Twice, you called and left voicemails.

Two days after the argument, you’d called on your lunch break. It had rang six times and then his voicemail picked up.

“Vernon… listen, I know I pissed you off. I’d really like the chance to explain myself when I’m not… you know. I didn’t say it how I meant it. Text me. Or call me, whichever.”

After the four weeks crept by and the rest of your texts went unanswered as well, you tried again.

It took almost a whole bottle of wine by yourself to work up the courage, and you hoped he wouldn’t hear the slur in your voice when you told him, “I don’t know why I’m even calling. It’s been a month. I hate that this is just… unresolved. I hate making people mad. I want to know that you know I’m sorry. I want to know that… well. I just… wish we were talking again. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m calling.”

You sat at the stool by your easel for the first time in years, tested your balance, tucked one foot underneath the way you used to. Your hands shook a little as you mixed a purple so dark it was probably actually just black. You covered the canvas, the color of nine at night in the summertime, and stared at it, watching it dry.

When you could, you switched brushes, used a rounder texture to form something that might pass as clouds along the mottled sky. Then, you painted a full moon; it cracked like an egg.

You liked this, you followed the idea, paintbrush hurrying to chase the inspiration, whites and yellows coloring in whatever it was that might leak from the moon like marrow.

The bottom half of the canvas became a moving, living ocean; the blues were eight at night in the summertime but they looked good together with the hour after. You finished with the moon’s reflective path, a jagged yellow streak that dipped and bobbed through the waves.

You walked to the bathroom and washed your brushes, leaving them somewhere to dry where the cat couldn’t mess with them. Then you went back to the canvas, staring at it from a few feet away, your hands on your hips.

You’d done it - you’d painted something you didn’t want to burn.

One painting, one tiny step back towards the life you’d lost - that you’d let yourself lose, that you’d definitively pushed away.

4 months ago

It rained for three days. You lit lamps during the day, suddenly craved soups even though it was the height of spring and the weather had been consistently warm for weeks. The rain just called for it.

It called for you to sleep, too, luring you into bed with a steady patter against the windows. You slept early, and deeply, the cat curled up near your head. The rain beat against the windows like a metronome, helped your heart rate steady, helped your thoughts slow and settle.

You slept deeply, the sounds of the rain pulling you under, and when you were startled awake a few hours in, it was with no concept of where or who you were.

Your phone was still vibrating, jarring; you scrambled to grab it from the nightstand and the cat scrambled out of the room.

Your mom, you thought wildly. Or Chan.

What else could it be, but an emergency? No one else called at three in the morning. Someone used to, but only on the weekend, and that person hadn’t answered you in over a month.

“H’lo?” you mumbled, eyes too blurry to see the screen. You closed them, pressed the phone tighter to your ear to hear better.

No one spoke, but you could hear breathing - ragged and unsteady.

“Hello?” you repeated, more clearly, starting to wake up a bit, starting to worry. You rubbed at your eyes, then pulled the phone away so you could see the name on the screen.

Of course it was him.

“Vernon?” you asked, like you didn’t believe the word on the screen, but you were met with only silence - even his breathing went quiet for a second, like hearing his name had caused him to hold it. Like he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted you to know he was there.

You said his name again, like a question, and it sounded like maybe he tried to speak but the noise - choked and quick - faded quickly. Your heart started to race, and certainty settled into your bones: something was wrong.

“Hey,” you said, a little sharply, like maybe he needed to snap out of it. “Are you okay?”

Finally, a word. “Dunno,” he managed, his voice thick.

“I’m coming there,” you said, already throwing the blankets off your legs and staggering to your closet to pull at some sweatpants. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“No,” he protested, but the way he gasped the breath after it cemented what you already knew - he needed you.

Or, he needed someone, and you were someone, and you would have to do.

“I’m on my way. Stay there, okay? Wait for me.” You were hopping on one foot as you said this, pulling clothes and shoes on, frantically reaching around in the dark for things like deodorant and car keys.

When he didn’t answer, you stopped moving, stopped trying to find your things. When you spoke again, your voice came out softer, a gentle plea instead of sharp instruction. “Hansol,” you said, quiet. “Wait for me. Okay?”

He ended the call without promising.

You stayed tucked into the building’s doorframe until you saw the Uber pull up; the rain was coming down in sheets, and you had to run to the car, splashing through still water until you could slide into the backseat. Your feet were soaked.

You spent the first five minutes of the ride wiping rain out of your eyes and trying to wring out the ends of your sleeves; the fabric clung to your hands, wet and cold. Outside the car, the rain water ran down the windows and the windshield wipers ran on the fastest setting.

im on my way, okay?

[ ]

vernon you’re scaring me

When the car pulled to a stop, you jumped out as soon as it was safe, bolting through the rain a second time and letting yourself into the building with the code you knew by heart. You took the stairs two at a time, heart flying. You were at once both scared to death of what you’d find when you got there, and refusing to put the specific fear to words, refusing to consider that it could be an option.

“Where are you?” you called, as soon as you got his door open. The apartment was mostly unlit, but for the light above the sink, and a dim light from the direction of his bedroom. “Vernon?”

You were met with silence and you almost choked on your heart as it climbed up your throat. You slipped off your shoes and made your way inside, heading for his bedroom.

You almost threw up with relief when you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. The light you saw came from his bathroom - the door was closed almost completely, but light spilled out through the crack.

“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” you asked, inching closer. His hands were clenched into fists and bent back at an angle, veins raised along his tensed forearms. His breath went in raspy and came out in huffs, too quick to be productive.

You were pretty sure you knew what this was. You knelt in front of him, ran your hands over his tensed-up arms once, and then nudged under his chin gently with your forefinger, urging him to lift up and look at you.

He let you, his eyes faraway.

“Panic attack?” you guessed quietly. He nodded once, trying to tuck his chin back down, to look away and hide from the shame of this moment being witnessed - being recognized.

“If I put on my breathing app, will you do it?” you asked.

The sound he made was almost like a laugh. “I’ll try,” he muttered.

You opened your phone and set the app up, placing it on the bed beside him, the light from the screen tinting him pink. You heard the familiar, soothing voice begin to recite the directions, and you rocked back on your heels.

“I’m going to your kitchen real quick,” you told him, putting your hands on his knees to push yourself to standing. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll do the breathing with you in a sec.”

You shivered once as you stood with his fridge open; you’d been in his kitchen plenty of times, but never really perused on your own. Your gaze moved over beer and energy drinks, finally landing on juice. You slapped the bottle on the counter and rummaged in the closest cabinets until you found a glass.

Returning to his bedroom, you could hear your breathing app intoning hold… two… three… four… exhale slowly… two… three… four. It was hard to tell if Vernon was following - his head was still tucked, but his hands clenched and unclenched, like he was trying to return circulation after they’d fallen asleep.

You waited patiently until the breathing cycle ended, then nudged the glass into his hand. When he took it, you sat gently next to him, watching silently until he drank some.

“Where are you at?” you asked, and then started to explain what you meant.

Vernon interrupted; he’d understood the first time.

He usually did.

“Better,” he said, then added, “Not, like, better. But, better. Still buzzing.”

You knew the feeling - you tended to get buzzing in your legs first, then hands, and then it would crawl up your arms and into your chest if you didn’t shake it. When the attack receded, you usually felt it leave your chest first and then work its way slowly back down your arms.

“What usually helps?” you asked. “Is the breathing cycle better, or grounding?”

“Grounding, probably,” he said.

“Start by drinking some juice,” you instructed. “Then, can you tell me five things you see?”

“It’s dark,” he grumbled, but he brought the glass to his lips as requested. You rolled your eyes at his sass and walked over to turn on the lamp he kept on his desk. It cast the room in yellow, all the raindrops on the window suddenly catching the light.

“Now do it,” you said, coming back to sit by him again.

You heard him take a breath. He was better already - hands unclenched now, breathing still a bit quick but not raspy or gasped. “It feels silly to do out loud.”

“I’ll do it, too,” you said. “I see your laptop, your lamp, your cell phone, your dresser, and your very old and embarrassing Blink-182 poster. Literally, Vernon, is it 2003?”

He laughed, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re roasting me right now,” he said, voice still a little thin and breathy.

“Five things you see,” you reminded him firmly.

He huffed in mild irritation. “Hamper,” he recited, finally. “Shoes. Empty Red Bull can.”

You laughed.

“Cologne bottle,” he finished, then looked up at you. “Girl who came out at three in the morning, in the rain, after a month of not speaking, because she was worried about me.”

You spluttered. “I was not.”

He knocked his shoulder into yours playfully. “I have it in writing.”

You let out an indignant breath. “I should have let you suffer alone,” you muttered.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted, then dutifully drank some more juice.

“Okay,” you said, remembering what you were doing. “Four things you can hear.”

He sighed. “Bossy girl,” he listed, and you whacked at his knee. “Rain. Aircon. Traffic outside.”

You finished the exercise together.

“Now how is it?” you asked, reaching to take his empty glass.

He flexed his hands in front of him. “Buzzing’s down to my hands,” he reported. “Think I’m past the worst.”

“How do you feel, otherwise?”

He grimaced. “Exhausted, honestly.”

You looked at the clock - it was after 4:30 in the morning, almost time for sunrise to begin.

“You should try and sleep more,” you said, starting to rise.

“Stay?” he asked, and you thought you heard a note of, well, panic in it. Like he was scared to be alone again.

Something inside you screamed and beat its fists against your insides, furious and terrified as it felt you melt into goo at his request. Something inside you knew that you were walking into a building on fire. But there was no way you’d stay outside, not now, not if he was in there.

“Of course,” you said, as if it was obvious, as if you stayed over all the time - as if this weren’t, in fact, a first.

He seemed to take in your appearance for the first time, the still-drying patches on your clothes, the goosebumps on your damp skin. “You’re cold,” he said, frowning, like you should have led with that as soon as you came in, handled your needs first.

“I’m okay,” you denied, but he rolled his eyes and leaned over the other side of his bed, coming up with a rumpled black hoodie.

“I promise it’s clean,” he said, a little sheepishly, and you pulled off your damp tshirt and tugged the hoodie over your head, instantly warmer and surrounded by his smell. He left for the bathroom, and when you heard the sink run and the telltale buzzing from his electric toothbrush, you got up and turned his lamp back off. When he emerged, you were under the blankets, huddled warm and cozy inside his hoodie.

When he climbed into bed, you draped yourself over him, a leg over his legs, an arm over his torso, your face pressing against his t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you lay in silence for a while, listening to the rain, awash in relief that he was okay - that you two were okay, that he’d let you back in even after you’d fucked it up.

Just as you were starting to drift a little, you felt his chest move under you, and he said, quietly, “I’m sorry for making you come out in the storm. In the middle of the night, too.”

“Don’t,” you said, shaking your head but not lifting it up to look at him. Your words carried out into the dark of the room. “You can call me. You can call me when you need me. I don’t care if it’s late. I don’t care if it’s… a hurricane, or whatever.”

It was too honest. It was too close to the truth. You shivered in the dark again, and you felt him hold you tighter for a second, as if to chase the chill away.

He let the moment go, didn’t chase it down and shine a light on it. But you know he heard you - you think, probably, he heard the whole thing, all the parts you didn’t say.

You waited in silence again, let the moment go, let the rain wash this away, too. Then, you ventured, “I’m sorry for what I said to you, last month. Really.”

You felt him nod above you. “I know. It’s… it’s okay.”

Is it? you wondered. But you didn’t push it - because you were scared that his forgiveness was fragile and might shatter if pressed, because you’d already admitted something you weren’t sure you’d meant to tonight, because saying anything seemed wrong while you were between his arms with the rain serenading you both from outside.

You drifted off; you woke up with his hands on your skin beneath his hoodie. You sighed, eyes still closed, as he refamiliarized himself with your body. You breathed in deeply when his fingers brushed up your stomach and found your breasts, teased over your nipples so lightly that it almost tickled, made you shudder in place.

You felt his lips at the nape of your neck, and that made you shiver, too. He pressed kisses along the tops of your shoulder as he teased one peak and then the other, finally giving in to your tiny, needy noises and rolling both buds between firm fingers. You moaned, long, feeling it pulled from deep within you until he let go, soothing over the spots with warm palms.

“Missed that sound,” he murmured against your back, and you pressed back against him desperately, suddenly sure that if he wasn’t inside you this instant you would completely lose it. You reached backwards, grabbing at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you whined, hating it but knowing it was true anyway, the need larger than the embarrassment. You could feel him pressing against your ass, too many layers between you, and you shifted against him, hoping to spur him into action.

He hummed, pleased, and slid a clever hand back down over your stomach and past the waistbands of your sweats and panties, groaning low in his throat when he found arousal pooling between your legs. He barely bothered to work you open, likely feeling the same desperation you were after the time apart. You felt him shimmy out of his shorts, then his hands back on your skin as he peeled away your bottoms as well.

You kicked them off of your ankles and inhaled as you felt him slide along your slit, teasing at your entrance. He kept one hand up your hoodie, pressed against your chest to hold you tight against him, as he pushed into your heat one inch at a time. You heard yourself make a sound you couldn’t name, somewhere close to a whine, as you felt each bit of him rub against your walls as they struggled to adjust.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth close to your neck. “Tighter than I remember.”

He bottomed out and stilled, that one hand still holding you tight against his body. You closed your eyes and felt the moment: his heart beating against your back, your own pulse thundering through your limbs, your pussy pulsing around him as it adjusted and fluttered, his breath warm and steady on your skin, his hands soothing and grounding as they held you tight, the rain still falling steadily outside. You stayed still, eyes closed, as he caressed your hips, your lower belly, your thighs, as he pressed chaste and feather-light kisses along your shoulder.

Finally, he shifted, fucking into you in small movements, barely withdrawing at all before tilting his hips to push back in. You rocked back against him, silently begging for more.

He pulled out almost completely, and then slid back in; the sound you let out bordered on a sob, your nerves alight and sizzling as he began repeating the motion, each stroke slow and long, unhurried, burying himself as completely as he could. You floated like this, completely enveloped by him, still wearing his hoodie, as he took his time with you, until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

“More, Vernon,” you begged, “please.”

“As you wish,” he teased, and used his knee to move yours, bending your leg and hooking it up around his to open you up more, to give himself more room as he set a quicker, steady pace. Relieved, you matched his strokes, half-tempted to roll over so you could kiss him, but not wanting to lose even a second of the delicious feeling of him stretching you, of the friction that made your eyes want to roll back and your toes curl up.

It took you completely by surprise when he began pistoning into you, holding you in place by your waist, and a gasp flew from your mouth, morphing into a series of moans and cries as his hips battered at yours. Even more so when he grabbed at your thigh and tugged, rolling you onto your back and readjusting himself over you, slipping right back in as you wrapped your legs around him and tried to pull him closer.

His pace slowed only marginally as he grabbed at your hands and raised them above your head. Bent close over you, you finally got what you’d wanted the whole time - his lips finally found yours and you kissed hungrily as he fucked you deep. Above your head, you felt your fingers curl against his, lacing together. You squeezed his fingers tight when you came, his name slipping from your lips as your legs shook and your world went white. Vernon came with a cry, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched as he emptied himself in your still-pulsing heat, and then collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

“Shower?” he asked, when he’d caught his breath.

You tilted your phone so you could see the time. “I should probably just go home,” you admitted. “I have work.” This realization hit you - you’d gotten maybe four and a half hours of sleep, and not even all at once. Thank god it was Friday and you only had one day to struggle through.

He nodded, understanding. After you dressed, he wandered after you like a shadow. “You around tomorrow night?” he asked, and you could hear the effort to sound off-handed.

“Yeah,” you said, eyes flicking to his for a second. “Yeah, I’ll be around.”

When your ride pulled up and you stepped outside, you shielded your eyes from how bright everything was in the early morning light after days of gloom and clouds. Around you, everything glistened and sparkled, still wet from the days of incessant rain, as if everything you could see had been washed clean.

3 months ago

hi :]

what’s wrong with your face?

are you insulting my smiley?

again i ask you: is it 2003?

im gonna ignore that. come over?

can’t, sorry. i’m sick

whats wrong with u?

should i start listing?

ha ha. girl stuff?

vernon!!!!

lmao i mean if its not that i figured youd just tell me whats wrong

i have a fever, you ass

It was true - you’d carried your comforter from your bed to your couch that morning and had barely moved since. The cat was on top of your legs and you didn’t have the strength or energy to move him. Through the day, your fever had risen; you hadn’t helped things by refusing to get up, which meant you were probably dehydrated. As Vernon texted you, you took mental inventory of how badly everything on your body hurt - your limbs, your hips, everything ached. The pain in your head was sharp and bloody, and you felt like you were sweltering even though your feet were ice cold.

You felt too miserable to even watch a show; instead, you looked around your living room absently. You were pretty sure you were seeing colors off to the side, hazy swatches of red and blue.

Well, you thought dryly, that’s not good.

Then, your hallucinations took form, because the couch was dipping under you and someone was placing a cool hand against your head. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch just because the coolness felt nice.

“You need to drink something,” someone told you.

“I had the lemonade,” you said.

There was a pause. “I don’t… think there’s lemonade here. Hey - wake up and look at me.”

You blinked, and looked towards the voice. The world’s most beautiful man looked down at you, frowning.

“Wow,” you heard yourself. “You’re so handsome. What are you here for?”

He laughed. “I’m here to take care of you,” he said. “I’m bringing you water, okay?”

You frowned. “I don’t want water. My throat hurts. I want juice.”

There was another pause, and then the voice came again, from further away. “I’ll bring you juice, but you need to drink water now.”

Then he was back, snapping in front of your face. “Hey, look at me again. This is serious. Have you taken any medicine? I don’t want to give you double of something and overdose you.”

“I don’t think I’ve left the couch today,” you told him honestly.

“Okay,” he said, and you didn’t remember him moving or leaving but he was somehow pressing pills into your hand, waiting for you to place them on your tongue before handing you a plastic cup full of water.

“Drink all of it,” he instructed.

“You’re too pretty to be so bossy,” you grumbled around the mouthful of pills.

He waited until you drained the cup. “I’m going to go to the store,” he told you. “Can you think of anything else you need besides juice?”

You didn’t remember if you answered him, or even him leaving. You think you slept. When you woke, someone was rummaging around your kitchen.

“Chan?” you called, blearily.

Instead, Vernon poked his head around the corner of your kitchen, a grocery store bag hanging off his arm.

“Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

You blinked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing here?”

His smile widened. “Your fever must be down a little. You need anything? You still want juice?”

You just stared at him, bewildered. He finished putting away a few more things and then came back out to you, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Definitely lower,” he said. “Do you have an actual thermometer? I couldn’t find it.”

“Yeah,” you said, still confused. “In my bathroom. Vernon, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Come on,” he said. “You should shower and put on clean pajamas and then maybe try to eat some of the soup I got.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can shower,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can stand up that long.”

He held out his hand. “I’ve got you. Just a quick rinse.”

He helped you off the couch and into the bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet while he started the water and got it running warm, but not hot. You kept silent as he helped you undress, as he held your hand while you gingerly stepped over the bathtub’s lip, your legs aching.

“You okay?” he checked, once you were behind the shower curtain.

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I’m going in your room to get you clean clothes to put on.”

“Hurry.”

“I’m right outside. If you feel weird, just call me.”

You did okay, though, washing up and turning the water off on your own, reaching for the towel you kept on a hook. He came in when he heard the water change, and helped you dry off, his hands firm and his gaze gentle. Then he led you back to your bed, guiding you under the blankets.

“Do you think you could eat some soup?” he asked. “I bet you didn’t eat all day.”

You scrunched your nose. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

He shrugged. “It’s pre-made. I’ll heat some up.”

You tried to eat as much of the soup as you could, and then floated absently as Vernon cleaned up.

“Hey,” you said, struggling to sit up. “I don’t think I fed the cat tonight.”

“Tell me what to do,” he said, pushing on your shoulder to keep you from climbing out of bed.

“You can’t just- he’s particular - there’s a process -”

“Tell me the process, then,” Vernon said firmly.

Later, after he’d turned out all the lights, he came to the side of the bed and checked your temperature again - this time with your actual thermometer.

“I’m waking you up in three hours to take another fever-reducer,” he warned you, walking to set the thermometer down on your dresser.

“Okay,” you said, too tired to argue. You were already half-asleep as it was - you had no idea what time it was.

You barely registered it when he climbed into the bed next to you, just rolled over and buried your face in his chest, one arm reaching around his middle, already back under.

His alarm startled you both. You felt him pull away - you were sleeping in the same position, neither of you had moved - and then the alarm fell quiet.

“Medicine,” he said, starting to extract himself. You whined; you were comfy, and warm, and didn’t want him to leave.

“Don’t,” you whined. “Don’t leave.”

He laughed a little, a quiet huff of amusement. “I’m just going to the kitchen. Then I’ll be back.”

He watched you take another round of pills and drink half the water, leaving the glass on your nightstand. Then, as promised, he got right back in bed.

When you woke again, your bed was empty. And, impossibly, you felt both relief and disappointment. Then, from the living room, you heard a clatter and then a curse.

“Vernon?” you called.

Your bedroom door cracked open. Like a flash of lightning, the cat streaked into the room and under the bed.

“Sorry,” Vernon said from the doorway. “He was pissed that I wouldn’t let him in there with you. I wanted you to sleep. He was mutinying.”

You smiled despite yourself. “You didn’t go home?”

“Wanted to see how you were before I left,” he said. “You sound better. You look better, too - I mean, you looked really off yesterday. It was kind of scary.”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “Okay enough that I can keep my fever down by myself. I shouldn’t have let it get that high yesterday, I should have stayed on top of it.”

He looked at you for a long time. Then, he clapped his hand against your doorframe, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay. I’ll go home, I guess. Just… let me know if it gets bad, okay? And eat something. I bought stuff for you yesterday - it’s all in the kitchen.”

“Thanks for doing that,” you said, a little sheepishly.

“It was nothing,” he promised.

After he left, you stayed in the bed, rolling onto your side so you could smell the blankets where he’d slept. It helped you feel safer, like you weren’t actually alone.

It occurred to you that you’d spent the night together twice in a row, now. The rules were breaking - the rules were changing.

Your head pounded, and so did your heart. Nothing had ever been this frightening in your life, you thought.

2 months ago

Vernon saw you as sunshine - not like it was your demeanor, because that wasn’t true. More like - something he needed without realizing he needed it, something he realized he needed only in its absence. Something that made things better and brighter, something that could sometimes be too bright. Something that made the grey days feel greyer in a can you understand happiness if you never feel sadness kind of way.

He tipped your head back to kiss you, caught your bottom lip between his teeth, rolled his hips into yours, watched your hands clench into fists in his sheets.

He forgot himself a little; or maybe he just gave in to something he’d been holding back for months - maybe even a year. Something cracked, marrow slipped out of him, sluiced into the rocky ocean below.

After, he held you close, whispered, “Don’t go home. Stay. Jagi, stay here.”

And, he had to give you credit - you were at least honest. You at least told him your truth, in your own way.

“I can’t,” you said, and he knew you, knew how you meant it. He didn’t argue or call you back when you dressed, when you left again, just how you’d done things almost every time over the last two years.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t want you, maybe even love you, and only have parts of you. It was too hard, it wasn’t fair. Two years, and he had nothing to show for it. Maybe he’d find someone, if he wasn’t spinning his wheels with you.

He saw you like sunshine. Something that was missed when it was gone. Something that couldn’t be forced to stay, something that didn’t come when it was called.

1 month ago

You could tell that something was different. You’d been around Vernon plenty when he was low - this was different.

“You’re being weird tonight,” you observed.

His eyes cut sideways at you. He’d never looked at you like that - this was another clue. Then his face went flat again.

“I’m not,” he said, and you frowned.

“You are,” you insisted. “What’s going on? What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” he said, tone hollow.

“I’m not playing this game with you, Vernon!” you said, temper flaring. “If there’s a problem, you’re going to have to use your words and tell me.”

“I said there’s no problem,” he repeated, cool and even. Something inside you snapped tight, painful. You could feel it all coming to a boil right before your eyes - the way the boundaries had been shifting, the way he’d called you jagi, the way he’d looked when you’d walked away. It terrified you, made you want to show your claws, and it was infuriating that he was icing you out when you were ready to draw blood.

“Vernon!” you cried. “I cannot deal with this little apathy game anymore! I need you to engage here. I need you to care about something, and not just give me this expressionless, emotionless -”

“Care about something?” he thundered, wheeling on you. It startled you into silence. “That’s bullshit. Because I have been caring about you way more than I should, for ages now, and look what fucking good it’s done for me.”

Stunned, you blinked at him. Your heart pounded painfully, and your thoughts felt staticky and unclear. You needed to get away from him; you needed to process this in silence.

Finally, you spoke, your voice coming out tiny. “I’m going home.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, slapped his hand down to grab at his phone. “I’ll take you.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want you to.”

He ignored this, picking up his keys. “I said I’ll take you. It’s fine.”

You shouldn’t have followed him to the car. You shouldn’t have assumed he’d be mad for a few weeks and then get over it again, just like you two had done more than once now.

He drove you in silence, his face coming in fragmented pieces as he passed under streetlights. You were watching him, silently, when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, still perfectly even.

Tears sprang to your eyes before you’d even processed the sentence, something inside you reacting before your brain really knew what you were reacting to.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

You knew why.

He just kept driving.

“Pull over,” you demanded, suddenly furious, suddenly terrified, suddenly realizing you were losing him, right now, in real time.

He ignored you, didn’t even glance over at you.

“Vernon, I want to talk about this, pull over!” you cried, leaning forward in your seat, the seat belt tightening on your shoulder. “Pull over!”

Eventually, he listened, flicking on his turn signal and slowing as the car bumped off the pavement and onto the dirt shoulder.

“What?” he asked flatly, finally turning to face you.

“I asked why,” you said, heat laced through your voice.

He shook his head. “I’ve wasted two years with you -”

“Wasted?” you echoed, feeling the word like a punch to the gut. You felt like you couldn’t inhale.

“Well?” he asked, as if to say, well, wasn’t it?

“Fuck you, Vernon,” you spat.

“Fuck me is right!” he yelled, loud in the enclosed space of the sedan. “What are we doing? Just fucking, for eternity?”

You blinked at him. “You never asked me for anything else!”

“I tried,” he growled.

“Like hell you tried!”

“I did,” he asserted. “You ran, scared, every time.”

“Of course I was scared,” you snapped, because you couldn’t deny that one for a second. Your voice comes out choked. “I was right to be scared, and you know it!”

“Why?” he asked, the question falling between you, a landmine.

“Because,” you said seriously, the first tear finally falling. “This only ends one way.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you, out the windshield again. Then, he clicked on his turn signal again, shifted the car back into drive, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Yeah,” he said flatly, as the car met even pavement again. “You’re making sure of that, aren’t you?”

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thank you so much for reading! one chapter left to go!

#kvanity #svthub #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #vernon fic #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon chwe x reader #hansol x reader #hansol x you #chwe hansol x reader #vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe hansol smut #vernon angst #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #chwe hansol fluff #fuckbuddies au #fic: vice;grip

[theoryofthemultiverse]

Hoyo‘s Doctors when you’re hurt mentally 🌊

Synopsis: Either an event (or maybe a mental illness) happened that made you mentally down, so you stand in their doorframe with a look on your face that tells, at least some of them, everything. But what would they do?

Characters: Baizhu, Dr. Ratio, Il Dottore

A.N.:Oh yeah something happened, I feel it, I need it too.

🌊~_~🌊 ~_~ 🌊 ~_~ 🌊 ~_~ 🌊 ~_~ 🌊 ~_~ 🌊 ~_~ 🌊

Baizhu:🐍

He would see you coming and already know something has come up. No matter if you try to hide it or not. No matter if you only make subtle hints or just stand there like a shell, he will pick up on it. If the latter is the case and you’re just standing there being close to crying, he would say nothing at first, only approach you and pull you into a hug.

If you need to cry he is going to cry in his embrace as long as you want but he’s going to get you to take a seat with him on a sofa so you can calm down more easily. Once you’re calmed down enough he will try to ask you what happened, but if you’re not ready or simply don’t want to talk about it at the given moment he is going to accept it for now and wait until you are ready to tell him.

If he knows anything to make you feel better he is going to provide it for you to the best of his abilities. Like if you decide on wanting to talk about what happened and he knows you have a special dish that makes you feel better, you two can go to the kitchen where can listen to you and cook at the same time.

Dr. Ratio:🎓

He is going to try to get out of you what happened no matter the cost except if he after 10 minutes realizes you really don’t want to talk about it at the given moment. Because if you didn’t want to tell him, that man would feel helpless. How is he supposed to fix the problem if you don’t tell him what it is?

If you do tell him though there is not a guarantee after all, that he could fix it. But with that you have to be careful with this man because if you intend to tell him, then also shoot him with the ‚I only want you to listen and be there for me‘ first (except if you really want the possible solution/s). He is simply that type of guy, he needs you to be direct. Otherwise he will shoot you with what you did/are doing wrong to be in the situation.

If he knows his job is to listen though, he will sit/lay down with you and listen to you, meanwhile hug you or stroke your hair, whatever calms you down. In the end though he would probably already get red like he forgot how to breathe from having to hold back on presenting a solution to you. So if you feel better then, you might find it amusing enough to grant him the possibility to tell you how to go on.

Il Dottore:🧪

Man is honestly not sure what to do. Like the one that would ‚offer you to eat you if you’re sad‘ because he is simply like ‚what do you want me to do‘.

If you told him to just listen to you he would give in though under the condition of if you two could talk while he works in his lab. And to the contrary to what you two had guessed, he is better than both of you would have initially thought. If you rant about something he is going to occasionally tune in and tell his dismay about the situation too. If you’re sad then he is going to gaslight the others in your story on being at fault and after some time he even stops working all together to simply listen to you and shake his head with you about the situations you’re in that make you feel bad.

If you didn’t tell him though he wouldn’t be the kind to go after you. He would simply let you be and wait for you to come to him if you decided on telling him then.

#genshin impact #baizhu #baizhu x reader #dr ratio #dr veritas ratio #honkai star rail #love #dottore #dr. ratio x reader #fatui dottore