#so like. this is not anything for him. maybe it'll even end up being kinda hot (she could use the recontextualization) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simonsslut · 8 months

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meeting simon in the army.

18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist

wc: around 4.8k

cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.

Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.

a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.

you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.

soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.

Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.

you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).

maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.

Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.

however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.

maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?

simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.

"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."

a shared opinion.

he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.

you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.

you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.

you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.

it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.

"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.

you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.

after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.

3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.

and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.

3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.

sort of.

simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.

neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.

or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.

what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.

but that's probably because you were so oblivious.

you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.

you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?

the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?

when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.

what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.

but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.

he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.

"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"

he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.

"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.

"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.

"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."

you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.

"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.

but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.

because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."

you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.

"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.

it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.

"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.

though you, of course, take it as a joke.

"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.

the hell does that even mean?

luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.

maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.

you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.

you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.

you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.

so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.

you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.

"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.

"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.

he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.

he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?

you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.

you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.

you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.

he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.

silence.

why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??

"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"

the air is thick.

you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.

"may I?"

you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.

you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.

he's not wearing the glove.

his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?

"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.

'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.

"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.

he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.

you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.

but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.

you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.

ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.

he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.

he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.

it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.

when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.

there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.

you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.

you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.

you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.

"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.

silence.

"simon." he stops.

"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.

after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.

he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.

"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.

"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.

he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.

he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.

he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.

you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.

he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.

"you gon' let me do this?"

the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.

this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.

he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.

you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.

you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.

you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.

you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.

he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.

he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.

his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.

he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.

he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.

he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.

"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.

"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.

you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.

you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.

he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.

he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.

he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.

he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.

you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.

he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.

his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.

your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.

he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.

he's close and so are you.

your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.

your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.

he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.

the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.

you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.

he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.

he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.

now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.

you just fucked your lieutenant.

he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."

you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.

you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.

"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.

you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.

horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!

simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.

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wakebymoonsleepbysun · 4 months

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Dogday!! Trying to figure out a way to send a Y/N in there to help him.

Rambles under the cut.

(I drew my sona in these cuz self-indulgent, but if I ever write anything it'll be a reader insert with little to no canon design.)

Design notes: Took some elements from his game model as well as his cartoon design. I think when we see him, he is emaciated and/or stretched out, the way CatNap is said to be able to stretch. Don't know if that's an ability all Smiling Critters have though. For now I'm saying it is SOMEWHAT but CatNap is the better at it by MILES. In any case, that's why he's not quite as lanky as he is in game, and is also a bit shorter.

I also he can be bipedal or quadrupedal, much like CatNap seems to be able to switch back and forth. A bit more animalistic than his cartoon counterpart, but part of that is just him not wanting to tower over the children and employees all the time, so drops down to all fours quite a bit.

The fur texture on his ears in the game cave him a floofy cocker spaniel look so I went with that instead of the less floofy ears he has in the cartoon and his original plushie.

The white pupils being absent when we see him I believe is a sign of how weak he is. When healthy, all the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters have them, much like CatNap does.

Trying to actually keep his huge open-mouth smile at all times, unlike with my FNAF stuff where I give them more of an ability to emote. That said trying to get him to look angry or sad was a challenge. Sad I think worked okay but the one where I meant him to look angry he looks more cocky or smirky than mad. Tender moments are a bit harder too, as keeping that huge grin with more tender eyes results in him looking either drunk or horney or just like he's not taking the moment very seriously, haha.

And the story? Not sure yet, bouncing around a few ideas, though I don't think I'll have the reader and the player be the same person. Reader might be someone who came up in PlayCare alongside Dogday. Perhaps they knew each other as kids when Dogday was still human. Haven't decided how much of this Dogday remembers or at what point the reader realizes Dogday is their old friend who got "adopted".

Reader grows up the Playcare and is given a job once they're an adult. (Something something starting the brainwashing and normalization of bullshit early to make employees who are more willing to look the other way?)

Dogday somehow kept them hidden during the Hour of Joy and the reader's been living in the caves ever since. (The caves open up so much possibility for people being hidden in the factory. Much easier to say there's an unknown offshoot of a natural cave system than an unknown part of the factory.)

How are they staying fed? Uhhhh...cave mushrooms? Trips to the surface? Moss? Stale vending machine candy? I don't know yet.

Not sure how to pull a happy ending out of this horror but I'm trying. Maybe the reader convinces Dogday to leave after Ch 3 because he'd be too weak to help anyway or something? And uh...I'm just gonna pretend since he's kinda a plushie he can be sewn back together even though I'm PRETTY SURE canonically the inclusion of blood and guts makes that...not a thing.

Just remember guys...all winds blow away...eventually.

#poppy playtime #dogday #ppt dogday #ppt3 #poppy playtime chapter 3 #spoilers #ppt3 spoilers #poppy playtime spoilers #ppt x reader #ppt dogday x reader #dogday x reader #x reader #my art

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luveline · 10 months

Note

If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white.

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?"

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says.

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?"

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern.

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through.

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?"

"Spencer!"

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much."

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?"

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks.

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!"

"I can tell."

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin.

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation.

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated.

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic."

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?"

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too."

"She's making toast or something."

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas."

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear."

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache."

"It makes me miss you," you whine.

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?"

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to."

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's."

"Exactly!"

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of.

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks.

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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cosmic-waves7 · 11 months

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could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

can the ground just open up and swallow him already, oh god.

“I…like you too.” you shyly smile

karma.exe has stopped working

#headcannons #anime #fiction #fluff #assclass x reader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #hes so babygirl #thank u for ur ask!#this was sitting in my drafts for so long im so sorry 😭

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achenetype · 4 months

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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.”

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment.

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod.

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out.

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold.

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off.

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says.

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly.

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?”

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil.

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded.

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed.

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.”

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,�� you said.

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.”

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this.

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday.

You think you’re going to die.

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it.

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all.

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—”

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets.

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

#— ash's writing #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #reader insert #y/n #pjo imagine #ok now we get into the warning tags #graphic depictions of injury #major character death #major character injury #reader death #alcohol mention #doomed by the narrative #genuinely im so sorry i really ran wild with this one good god #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #— ash’s answering!

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weebsinstash · 4 months

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Kinda obsessed with the idea of a reader pregnant with Lucifer's kid and just he's really into it and wants to get married while the readers there being like damn I just wanted the bragging rights of saying I fucked the king of hell and now I have to be married to him !?!

Reader: ugh oh my god that dick was so fucking good, thanks Lucifer

Lucifer, currently painting sigils with his own blood on your tummy: oh my god, no, I know, right, it was amazing, I had an amazing time

Reader: hey uhhhhhhh by the way, what are you

Lucifer, taking a break from speaking ancient Latin incantations: oh hey, no don't worry about it it's totally cool I'm just, doing a thing here

Reader watching the very foundation of Hell shake around them like an earthquake as all the candles in the room burn higher and the unseen spirits of the damned sing comgratulatory praises for their dark lord: you know this kiiiiiiiiinda feels like you miiiiiight be doing something kinda sinister and magic-y right now

Lucifer, watching his symbol appear on your belly: whaaaaaaaaat, no, that's crazy! It's just a little.... surprise! Nothing to worry about! So hey also completely unrelated but I kind of need to splash some of this goat's blood on you--

I feel like sleeping or even FLIRTING with Lucifer is the ultimate case of fuck around and find out because at the very least you have an all powerful clingy depressed obsessive boyfriend in THE DEVIL and at his very worst you have you know THE DEVIL, treating you as his equal half, wanting all to bow before you, worship you, erecting churches with stained glass telling the Epic Tale of how you two fell in love, wanting you draped in fineries, at his side at all times, having only the best

I just feel like... he's one of those yandere that really could take you 0 to 100. You fuck the guy ONCE as like a drunken one night stand, a real "fuck it why not maybe it'll be fun" kinda romp, and then he's making plans behind your back about marriage because, well, he just loves you so much already that he can't see doing anything else! 🥰 like can you imagine going from getting cream pied to like only a week later some church is getting constructing with like biblical art of "oh how the king of hell met another and fell in love" and it's foretelling some epic saga that hasn't even. Happened yet. Like imagine the whiplash of finding out the guy you casually fucked is dedicating buildings to. A story of. How he impregnated and married you and you guys "lived happily ever after" and you still barely know him

I like the contrasting options of Lucifer intentionally impregnating you vs unintentionally because THE VISUAL of like. He's just nutted and you're laying there amd he looks down and suddenly there's this little glowing moving picture on your skin of a snake twining around, circling, becoming an apple with a heart or some-- this is a real specific genre of fetish I'm discussing here ok we don't need to like exactly describe whatever magical mark of pregnancy the devil gives you fjdnfjf. But the apple appears and he's blinking at it and, finally, it clicks, and he's all "BABY! B-BABY! IT'S A BABY HHHOHHHHH MY GOD" and he's like EXCITED but also just like. Do you think he'd get a little biblical drooling about 'your womb being blessed' or some shit. Your absolute fucking LUCK OR LACK THEFEOF if Lucifer turned out to ACCIDENTALLY BE CORRECT and you kind of WERE created to be his wife or end up with him, like GOD is up there, "yeah Luci I threw you a bone, enjoy it 👍" like SHIT the one time you ARE cosmically fated to have a mate and it's AFTER YOU DIE? It's also LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR???

I feel like, genuinely the only way Lucifer would mistreat the Reader is completely unintentionally, like he has a bout of depression and neglects you a little, or he becomes socially withdrawn and you think he doesn't like you but really he's just feeling sad or working on something that's really important to him. I mean. This is BESIDES the possibility of confinement but that's for your protection and it's not like you're in PRISON. This guy is clearly packed with goofy loving positive energy. He'll be taking you to the circus and to musicals with his daughter like you've always been a member of the family, getting you your own special throne to sit beside his own. He's having audience with like some wretched soul, there are flames, he's being TERRIFYING, telling them how they've betrayed him and he's going to tear their soul to pieces and sentencs them to eternal suffering, and then he turns to you, "I'm sorry am I making it too hot in here shnookums 🥰 I don't wanna make you and our lil hellion uncomfy 🥰" like.... truly, you got yourself a man that can do both

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

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heexseung · 7 months

Text

꒰ 🌧 ꒱ ┄ ❛ dark academia ；caeruleum ❜

* pairing: vampire!heeseung x afab!reader

* tags: smut, fluff, romantic, human!reader, degradation (m. receiving), praise (m. receiving), mentions of free use, handjob (m. receiving), overstimulation (m. receiving), bratty!heeseung / switchy!heeseung if you squint, cunnilingus, body worship [kinda] (f. receiving)

* summary: because you two were loud last time, rumours have been spreading around about you two, causing you to receive a lot of unwanted attention from your peers.

* word count: 10k

* a/n: hello babes !! omg i almost forgor about this- but i DIDNT SAUR ENJOY THIS REPOST <3333 tysm for all ur support i wish u the loveliest days ahead c: and if you wish to come drop by my twitch streams, you can dm me and ill gib u my link ehheeheheheh ok thanks baiii

Even on weekends, you'd typically spend all of your free time cooped up in your tiny dorm, studying. Your timetable consists of waking up, getting ready, going to classes, studying and sleeping. You don't really do anything else and you don't really go outside much either.

It's not that you're in love with learning, although you do like learning — it's just that you don't really have anything else to do. Nothing interests you and oftentimes, you'd get so bored that you just end up thinking, well, the books are right there. Might as well do some studying. At least it'll give me something to do.

You thought about going outside and seeing the world; the world that is so unknown to you and many other humans out there, the world that any human would be extremely lucky to see… yet you can't bring yourself to step outside of your dorm unless it's for classes. You wish you had more courage to do so but after your first day here, you decided that it's best to lay low and not bring any attention to yourself. After all, your existence here is already controversial enough.

Thus, you live your life like this. It's boring and repetitive… but it's not like you're doing anything to actually change it. Plus, being here is something that you've always wanted to do ever since you were a kid, so it's not all bad and despite the less than ideal treatment you've got during your time here, there's still nowhere else you'd rather be at.

Besides, the isolation, gossip and rumours don't bother you much anyway. It'll never be as bad as the first week and you're thankful that everyone here usually lets you be — that is, usually.

Lately, you've come to notice that people are gossiping about you again but you're not sure why. You can't really hear what they're saying nor can you really ask someone about it… but you doubt it's because you're human, they've already gossiped about that on your first week here.

Maybe it has something to do with your lab partner, Heeseung. After all, the gossip did start right after the day you hooked up with him. But you doubt it.

Speaking of your lab partner, you wonder where he's been all this time. It's been a couple of days since you last saw him, he didn't even come to class two days ago. You hope he's okay.

You don't think you'll see him today either. After all, you both only share one class together, Intermediate Alchemy, and you don't have that class today. Even so, for some reason, there's a part of you that hopes to see him today anyway, maybe because he's the only person who's actually kind to you here. Everyone else would just ignore you.

As you walk down the hallway to go back to your dorm, the faint sound of an unfamiliar melody stops you in your tracks. You do a double-take, is what you're hearing what you think you're hearing?

It is.

It's the piano.

Someone's playing the piano, and beautifully so. Such beautiful and delicate melodies played with such grace, you can't help but think to yourself, a complex piece like this must take days to learn how to play. Who's playing it? And what piece is this?

Thus, you follow the faint sound of the grand piano, hoping to find the talented person playing it. Besides, you're in no rush anyway.

After a few seconds of walking, you find yourself standing in front of a closed classroom door. The sound of the piano is still a bit hard to hear properly but you don't want to open the door and disturb the person playing so you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to the piano piece as discretely as you can.

Thank God the hallway is empty or else there'd be more weird rumours about me, you can't help but think to yourself while silently chuckling.

But all too quickly, like less than a minute or so, the melodies stop playing. You wait for a few seconds to see if they'd continue but instead, you hear the faint sound of footsteps coming closer to you. You barely have enough time to detach yourself from the door and look unsuspicious before the door suddenly opens and an annoyed looking Heeseung peeks out.

However, his expression quickly changes to a surprised one as he sees you standing there like a deer caught in headlights. Now with his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised, he opens the door a bit more as he looks at you. A moment of silence passes by until you awkwardly clear your throat to break the silence.

"Um, hi," you say to him, hoping that he's not annoyed at you for listening in on him.

"Ah… hi…" he shyly says. His left hand scratches the back of his head as his eyes move away from you, but only for a moment. "Sorry, I, uh… I thought you were... one of those people."

His tone is sharp and annoyed and he rolls his eyes as he says the last two words but then he looks at you again and gives you a smile that reaches his eyes.

You reply, "No, no. I'm sorry I… kinda listened in on you."

"Kinda?" He asks with a teasing tone, his smirk is evident.

You laugh in response. It's short but the lightheartedness of the laugh still manages to dissipate the awkwardness between you two. Heeseung leans against the door frame with a smile and softly says, "It's okay."

And then he pauses. It feels as if some words are meant to be spoken here, right at this moment, but there's only silence as he stares at you. A couple of seconds later, he continues, "Um… do you wanna come in?"

Hell yeah. You've never seen this room and you're curious.

It seems that your facial expressions tell him your answer loud and clear. He gives you a bigger smile, the kind of smile that one can't stop from appearing even if they tried, and takes your hand in his to pull you into the room with him. His hand feels slightly warmer than yours and something that surprises you is the fact that his hand feels like it fits you more than your own. It makes you feel strange... knowing that even your own hands, hands that were created to fit perfectly into each other…

All your life, you've always thought that there's no way someone else's hands would ever fit into yours as perfectly as yours do but as his hand holds yours, guiding you to take a seat in front of the grand piano, you think to yourself, maybe I was wrong.

Brushing your weird thoughts away, you pull your hand away from his and look around the room. It's a bit dark in here because the curtains are closed but you can still make out what's inside the medium shaped room; some bookcases at the wall, a whiteboard at the front, some musical instruments at the left side and this grand piano at the right. Other than that, it's pretty empty which makes it appear more spacious than it actually is.

After putting your sling bag down on the floor beside you, Heeseung, now sitting next to you, starts playing a different tune than before and you watch as his pretty hands gracefully move from one key to another, you listen to the unfamiliar yet beautiful piece of composition.

Soon, the music grows in pace and intensity, you can feel the composer's passion as it goes on. Then it slows down to a soft and romantic pace, somehow reminding you of the beauty of nature despite being in a dark room with none, and then a moment later, it grows again until it eventually comes to a really slow and soft tune that reminds you of the gentleness of a mother bird singing to its nestlings. As you listen to him play, you feel like you're being kept at the edge of your seat, following the music as if you're a leaf in a stream of water. It's exhilarating, really. You didn't know music could do such a thing.

By the time he finishes playing, you're in awe of his talent in playing the piano, fully knowing that playing such beautiful composition takes a lot of time and effort. Before you could compliment him, he's already speaking, "Do you like it? It's called Dreams of Love by Franz Liszt."

"Yeah," you say, a bit breathlessly, just now realising that you've been holding your breath. "Wow, you're so talented."

His laugh is soft in your ears. "Thank you."

Turning to him, you look him in the eyes and say, "I didn't know you could play piano so beautifully."

Your words make him blush a bit; a soft shade of pink dusts his ears and cheeks — it reminds you a bit of the intimate moment you shared with him a couple of days before. As he murmurs a shy thank you, it becomes a bit awkward between you two again. Heeseung starts fiddling with his fingers and he opens his mouth as if to speak but he closes it back after a second or two.

Eventually, he does speak but his voice is devoid of all lightheartedness from before and his face shows a sorrowful expression. "Look," he sighs and turns to look at you. "I should apologise for the… uh… well, the last time, um, you know." He then gives a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands at his failed attempt to communicate his thoughts to you. "I'm sorry, I- We… we shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

You can only stare at him in disbelief. "What?" You say, your tone sounding a bit too harsh for both of your likings.

Truthfully, his words hurt you, more much than you'd like to admit. In a way, you kind of gave him a part of you, you showed him your vulnerability and you let him touch you in ways you'd never let strangers or even regular friends do... and now he tells you he regrets it. It hurts and you feel a bit embarrassed. You enjoyed your time with him but unfortunately, you guess he doesn't feel the same.

Suddenly, Heeseung realises that what he just said is probably the worst thing he could ever say to you. He quickly tries to take it back, "Wait- nonono, I meant-"

But you're already standing up to leave, not really wanting to hear whatever else he has to say. As you move, he gets up with you, his tone starting to sound desperate as he calls out to you. "No wait, please, please don't leave. I don't think you understand me."

And to think that I thought we could actually be friends.

You might sound a bit dramatic but you can't help what you feel. Now your relationship with him feels weird and awkward. You just want to quickly leave.

Right as you're in front of the door, he grabs your arm as a last attempt to stop you. Calling your name again, he pleads with you, "Please listen to me, it's not what you think. I-"

With wide eyes, his breath hitches as he stops himself from continuing, a bit mortified at what he almost blurt out. You only give him a confused look with an eyebrow raised. After a moment of just staring at each other in silence, he finally breathes out a worried sigh and surprisingly rests his head on your shoulder while intertwining his hand with yours. But what's more surprising is the fact that you don't have the heart to push him away.

What a weird person, you think. First he tells me he regrets having sex with me and now he does this.

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess when I'm with you," he murmurs, his face heating up at the confession.

As much as your heart beats faster at his words, you can't help but ask yourself, why? You're just a human. Heeseung can't possibly like you, could he? He has many other suitors that would be more than elated to be with him. Maybe he means that you just make him nervous — you wouldn't be surprised if you do since you make many people here nervous by just breathing.

Just as you're about to say something, you hear footsteps coming near you both, along with the sound of people talking... surprisingly about you. Although you're not new to people gossiping and spreading rumours about you, it does pique your curiosity; you've always wondered what people say about you behind your back.

On the first week, you heard people saying that you came from a rich family that had relations with the university's administrative staff or that a supernatural family adopted you or that you're not really human. Those were only the light rumours. Sometimes, when walking to class, you'd hear people say that you're working undercover for the human government, that you're only here to destroy the supernatural space and that everyone should be wary of you.

It makes you a bit sad, to be honest, because those words couldn't be further from the truth. However, you don't particularly blame them; humans haven't exactly been nice to the supernaturals, so you try to not take offence.

This time, however, the rumours are something else and it seems to involve not just you but someone else too.

"There's no way that happened," someone irritatedly says. If you could see them right now, there's no doubt in your mind that they'd be rolling their eyes.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is saying," another person says, their tone more nonchalant than the other’s.

"God, I swear, rumours are so dumb, like Heeseung and Y/N fucking in the dorms, really?" Your eyes go wide at the revelation, is that what everyone's talking about? But how did they know? And why is it a huge deal if I get laid? It doesn't make sense to you.

The same person continues, their voice growing louder as they walk closer to where you're standing, "This sounds as ridiculous as the time when everyone was saying that Jake fucked 100 people."

"Ah, but this one could actually be true," the other person thoughtfully says.

"What? Don't tell me you actually believe-"

"There are people who said they heard them," they say as a matter-of-factly, their voice now growing fainter as they pass by you but you can still hear the change of tone in their voice, now sounding more intrigued, "They say she edged him a couple of times and he wouldn't stop begging her to fuck him." Chuckling, they continue, "Must be a fun time."

Heeseung buries his head deeper into your shoulder as they say that, his hair tickles your neck a bit but you don't mind. Plus, you're more focused on their conversation, so much that you almost don't feel his hand tightening his hold on yours.

At the same time, you hear the former laugh and say, "You're so fucking weird."

Their conversation doesn't stop there but that's all you're able to hear, they're too far for you now. However, you're pretty sure Heeseung can still hear them — after all, his hearing is better than yours could ever be. But now that you know what everyone's talking about, you understand why he said what he said. He's surely not fond of the gossip about you two. You feel a bit sorry about it and despite knowing that it's not really your fault that people gossip about you, it doesn't really make you feel better.

A while later, Heeseung finally speaks again but he still doesn't move away from you and his voice sounds grim, a contrast to his usual demeanour, at least from what you've seen. "Sorry. It's my fault. I should've been more careful."

You try to look at him, a bit confused at what he's saying but he's hiding his face from you so you instead simply ask him, "Huh?"

He takes a deep breath as if trying to gather his confidence. Then, he pulls away from you and you're now able to see his face clearly. Ah, so that's why he was hiding.

With an obvious blushing face, he says, "It's not that I regret it, of course not, it's just that I think we should've done it elsewhere because obviously, people could hear and it was so stupid of me for not thinking about that." He gives out a frustrated sigh and continues, his voice soft and sad, "I guess I got carried away... I'm sorry."

Another moment of awkward silence as you try to make sense of what's going on. When you finally do, you can't help but question him, your voice almost as soft as his, "Why are you apologising?"

Giving you a surprised look, he pauses for a moment as he contemplates his answer. "D-doesn't the gossip bother you?"

He looks so sad that you just can't help but tenderly hold his face, making him look at you as you reassure him, "Heeseung, people always talk about me. It's nothing new. If anything, I should apologise since you got dragged into it."

Quickly objecting, he blurts out, "No, it's my fault! If I would've been more careful- if I haven't been thinking with my dick instead of my brain, this wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't have hated me and everything would've been fine and-"

You've never seen him look so distraught before. Seeing him being so uncharacteristically talkative worries you because despite knowing little of him, you do know one thing; he's not the type to word vomit, he always thinks things through before he speaks his mind and when he speaks, his words are fully thought-out. He may stutter here and there but they'd still seem thought-out and planned. Now, seeing him not able to do so and just desperately speaking, trying to convince you that he's at fault... it just doesn't sit right with you. How long had this issue been on his mind? And to what extent does he blame himself?

"Heeseung, calm down."

But he doesn't. He seems to be fully inside his mind, blurting out words as much as he can as if he's blurting out days' worth of worries. You're not sure what to do to calm him down but in a state of panic and with your hands already on his face, you pull him close and kiss him, hoping that the shock would be enough to stop him from overthinking.

Fortunately, it works. He gives a soft muffled sound as your lips touch his and then everything gets quiet. Still, he doesn't kiss you back, most likely too shocked at your actions. The kiss itself isn't long, you don't let it nor need it to be — you pull back a few seconds later. Looking into his almost teary eyes, you apologise for the sudden kiss, "Sorry, I didn't know-"

You're pretty sure he wasn't listening to you because now the tables have turned; now, he's kissing you and the kiss he gives you is way different than your attempt to get him to calm down — it's intense, messy, desperate and so intoxicating that you almost forgot to kiss him back.

When you do kiss him back, his actions only become more desperate. His hands constantly move; first from his sides to your shoulder, then to hold your face, then to your arm as he pushes you against the door, then to your waist, almost as if he's trying to make sure that you're really here. His lips never stop moving to press open-mouthed kisses to yours and as he does so, a small part of you can't help but feel like he's offering every part of him to you through the kiss, stealing your breath away in the process.

Eventually, you both pull away, needing to breathe. For a while, you both stare into each other's eyes. Heeseung rests his forehead against yours, his lips a bit swollen as he pants and his breath feels hot against your lips.

After a moment of intense silence, he speaks, his voice sounding a bit hoarse and it's as if he's talking to himself rather than to you. "You don't hate me."

You reply, "Of course not. How could I?" Gently caressing his cheek with your thumb, you whisper, "You're the only person here who's been kind to me."

Something in his eyes changes — you're unable to pinpoint exactly what it is but you don't ask either. He gulps, still breathing heavily, still looking into your eyes and then asks you with a soft wavering voice, "Why did you kiss me?"

It isn't his question that catches you by surprise but the look in his eyes that make him seem like he's expecting or hoping for a certain answer. If you were to look away, you could answer him honestly; "it was to help calm you down" but you can't look away, not when he's staring at you so intensely, not when he looks like he's begging you to say something specific as he waits for your answer. Your breath hitches as you think, unsure of what to say to him.

But it seems that you were silent for way too long. Breaking eye contact with you to look at the ground, Heeseung takes a step back and his hand rubs the back of his neck for a short moment.

"Did you only kiss me to shut me up?" He chuckles after he says that but the slight bitterness in his voice is evident.

"I'm sorry, I panicked. I was trying to calm you down," you eventually say.

He simply stares at you as if you just said the most absurd thing ever; eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. After realising that you're actually serious, he grabs your hand and slowly brings it to rest on his chest, giving you the chance to pull your hand away at any moment if you wish. "Can you feel it?" He softly asks.

You know what he's talking about — his heartbeat right underneath your fingertips... but you can't feel it nor hear it. Thus, you replace your hand with your ear, resting your head on his chest as you try to at least hear his heartbeat.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

It's faint but you can hear it... and it's beating quite fast for a vampire. You've heard that vampires have a slower heart rate than everyone else's and right now, you'd say his heart is beating pretty fast, just slightly above an average human's. You can feel his breathing too, it's a bit laboured.

When you pull away to look back up at him, you're greeted by a blushing Heeseung who asks you with a small smile, "Get it?"

Is he trying to say that you make him nervous?

Shaking your head no at him, you're still a bit confused as to what he's trying to convey. At your response, he sighs, runs his hand through his hair and then whispers to you, "How am I supposed to calm down when you're kissing me?"

That's when the realisation hits you. "Oh..." you whisper, now getting it.

"Yeah..." he whispers back then lightly chuckles. Placing his hand on the door behind you a moment later, he leans into you and continues in a low voice, "You wanna know how you can calm me down?"

That low voice makes you feel weird things, you just can't resist entertaining him when he speaks like that. "What?" You ask, your voice also low.

"You can hug me." Raising an eyebrow at him, you hum for him to continue, a bit surprised at the answer. "I like hugs," he continues with a boyish smile.

"You want a hug?"

With the same smile, he softly says, "Yeah."

"If you say please, I'll give you one."

He wastes no time. "Please," he says with a bright smile and hopeful eyes.

How could you say no to him when he looks so cute? So you hug him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his shoulder. He immediately hugs you back, his grip on you a bit tight but you don't mind, not when he feels so warm and comforting.

After a long moment of just hugging each other, you can't help but playfully ask, "Are you calm now?"

"I don't know," he starts. "Maybe you can check my pulse to find out?"

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he says that. You're not sure what he's hoping to get out of it — maybe he just wants your hands on his neck... or maybe he just likes to tease you. Whatever it is, you can't help but roll your eyes.

Suddenly, a fun idea pops up inside your head and you nonchalantly reply, "Okay."

Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you pull his head back to look at his neck. As your hands move to make him look up, your eyes take in every millimetre of his neck, specifically the spaces underneath his jawline, trying to find a pulse. Fortunately, it doesn't take you a long time.

"W-wait wait wait wait-" He gasps as your tongue probes at his pulse, his hands now moving to grip your shoulders. You only did it to tease him — you like it when he's flustered, but surprisingly, you can actually feel his pulse underneath your tongue. Intrigued, you pause your actions to count his heart rate, as weird and funny as that sounds.

You're not really surprised when you feel it beating rapidly. After a few seconds, he gives out a shaky exhale and says, "Is this a normal thing humans do?"

You chuckle at his words and then quickly bite down on the spot. He gives out a choked moan in response and further tightens his grip on your shoulder. "Aw, is baby flustered?" You tease him, unable to help yourself.

He can only whine your name as your tongue starts swirling around the same spot.

"You're so responsive... I love it," you whisper to him, your voice making him shiver. "And to think, I'm only playing with your neck. Is it that sensitive?"

As you start sucking on the small bit of skin in between your teeth, his jaw moves in an attempt to answer you but you don't hear his voice at all — he doesn't speak, not even when you're done giving him a hickey, not even when you're done giving him three. Pulling back, you take a moment to admire the small bruises on his neck but as time goes by and nothing changes, you begin to realise something.

"Why aren't they disappearing?" You comment, a bit alarmed.

However, Heeseung doesn't seem that concerned. He shrugs it off and replies with half-lidded eyes, "Ah, it's fine, it'll go away eventually."

"Is that normal?" You ask, still a bit hesitant.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry."

Deciding to take his word for it, you continue leaving hickeys on his neck. He hums in approval, his breathing hot and heavy and you eventually lose count of how many you actually gave him. When you pull back to look at his neck again, it's already half-covered with small bruises; all of them still bright red.

Just the sight of it makes something inside you snap and you can't help but ask him, "You don't mind me touching you right, Hee baby?"

With his head a bit dizzy, Heeseung struggles a bit to speak, "N-no, you can... you can touch me all you want."

"I can touch you anywhere?" You smirk, already knowing what you're going to do to him.

"Anywhere you want," he softly replies.

At his words, your hands waste no time moving to his torso, touching every part of it from his shoulders, then to his collarbones, then to his chest. His breath hitches when your hands move across his nipples but you don't stop to play with them — you continue moving your hands down to his abdomen. As you do so, you ask him, "I can touch you here?"

"Mhmm." His eyes automatically close as he says that, wanting to focus on your hands touching his body.

Seeing him relaxed and full of anticipation at the same time only spurs you on and so, you move one of your hands to squeeze his ass. He gasps and jumps in response, not expecting that to happen.

"What about here?" Your teasing tone only seems to make him melt.

"Y-yeah," he breathlessly says as he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands now gripping your waist.

Further teasing him, you slowly move your hand from his ass to grip his dick through his pants. "Even here?" You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He can't stop himself from moaning and pushing back into your hand at the contact. But before he could reply, you're already talking while feeling him up, "Wow, you're already kinda hard. Does this turn you on, hm? Being groped like a whore?"

Giving out another moan, he starts grinding into your hand as if to show you how turned on he is. He doesn't say anything but you can practically guess what he's thinking right inside his head; feel it, feel how hard you make me. You push your hand against his dick harder and he hisses in response. "You like that? Being my whore? Letting me play with your dick however I want, whenever I want?"

"Yes," he moans. "Just use me."

"Now, now. Where are your manners?" You ask as your other hand starts playing with his left nipple through his shirt.

At first, he stays quiet for a while, not wanting to answer you but as your fingers pinch his nipple, he jumps and squeaks out, "Please!"

"Please what?" You can feel his dick getting harder through his pants and just to tease him further, you play with his tip, pressing and swirling your thumb against it over and over again.

With a groan, he relents surprisingly quickly, "Please use me how-however you want. I really need your hands on me, please."

"I'm already touching you though?"

"No..." He trails off with a hiss. "Can I please take off my pants?"

As you feign thinking, he hurriedly continues, "Please, I need to feel your hands on my dick, please? I'll do whatever you want, I'm your whore. Just please touch me, it feels really good. I need it so much. Please."

"Needy today, huh?" It's a bit surprising, honestly, you were expecting him to give more of a fight based on the last time you hooked up, but nevertheless, he's still cute. Plus, it makes your job easier.

In response, he just hums, simply agreeing with whatever you're saying without a second thought. Satisfied with his pleas and answers, you tell him that he can take his pants off and he quickly does so, his movements hurried and sloppy, desperate to get it off as quick as he can. Once his pants are discarded on the floor like a metre away, you pull him into you by gripping his hips and then you pin him to the door right behind you.

Immediately, he leans against it and his hands go to grip your waist again but you quickly grab his wrists and pin them right beside his head. Leaning closer to his ear, you sternly tell him, "Keep your hands there, got it?"

He gulps and nods at your authoritative tone. You then take a good look at his dick since you didn't really get to last time — you notice that it's lanky, average girth, with a slight curve to the left and circumcised. It's also hard but that's already obvious. In a way, it suits him and you think it's pretty, just like him.

When you look back up at him, you can't help but smile at the shy expression he gives you. Whispering into his ear, you say, "You have such a pretty dick... but do you know how to use it?"

Biting his lip, he slowly shakes his head no. As your right hand go to unbutton his shirt, you continue, unable to mask the excitement in your voice, "Well that doesn't matter. I can always teach you how." You let your fingers brush along his shaft, your touch barely there as you continue, "And when you do learn, I might let you fuck me one day." The response he gives you is cute; he quickly nods his head and pleads with you. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," he gasps, trying his best to not buck his hips. "Please."

"Alright, baby." Finally deciding to give him what he wants and put him out of his misery, you spit on your hand and start stroking his dick. Your spit makes your hand move easily and after a few moments of stroking, he gives out a loud moan, throwing his head back when you suddenly squeeze his dick — hard.

"You want people to hear us again?" You teasingly comment.

He nods and replies, "Yes... wanna... let them know... how... good you make me... feel."

"How dirty." You can't stop your smile of fondness from appearing or the chuckle that comes right after.

"I'm... your whore... remember?" Despite being paired with gasps and moans, his remark still manages to come out playful.

"Go ahead then, baby." He whimpers as your hand starts stimulating his tip. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good. Your voice is too pretty for you to be quiet anyway."

Your right hand finally finishes unbuttoning his shirt. Without wasting any second, you touch his bare skin, running your hand all over his torso. His body's response intrigues you; everywhere your fingers go, his skin beneath you twitches and you're just using your hands. Imagine using your mouth — luckily, you don't need to imagine since he's right there.

The sound of his moan is so loud this time that it almost echoes across the room if it weren't for the room having many carpets. And to think that all you did was lick his chest. Granted, you did pinch his nipple while tightly squeezing his balls as you do so but who cares? He's so fun to play with, you just want to keep him like this for hours... but unfortunately, you're pretty sure that class is about to start soon, which means many people walking through the hallways.

Thus, you pick up the pace, trying to get him to quickly reach his high. Your left hand quickly moves up and down his shaft, your right hand goes to fondle his balls and your mouth starts sucking on one of his nipples — you doubt he's going to last long since his body is so sensitive. And based on his constant moaning and twitching, you can tell that you're right.

As you continue, he suddenly speaks, "I... I can't get our first time out of my head. I-it's like- it's like you're... haunting me." He moans when you lightly bite down on his nipple, his hips accidentally bucking into your hand. "Every time I close my eyes... I remember it again... I see it vividly... and I... I want to do it again with you... Did you... put a love spell on me... or something?"

As he continues to talk, a small uneasy feeling makes itself known to you — the kind of feeling that makes you feel as if something is wrong. It makes you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion as to what it could possibly be... but as you look at the man in front of you, you quickly understand. Just one look at him and you can tell that he's not in his right state of mind and you're pretty sure that he's just blurting out whatever's coming to his mind at this time. You can't shake away the thought that whatever he's saying right now is too private. You don't believe you should hear this, at least, not right now.

Worrying that he might end up regretting whatever he's saying, you tell him, "Heeseung, I don't want to hear anything else come out of your mouth except those pretty sounds you make, okay?"

And just to be safe, you insert two of your fingers into his mouth. As your fingers press against his tongue, he hums in response, closing his mouth and then he starts sucking on them. His tongue swirls around your fingers as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes.

Your hand goes to abuse his tip, your thumb swirling the precum around and pressing down on it again and again while your other hand continues to keep his mouth busy. His body shakes at your actions and suddenly, he quickly pulls your hand away from his mouth to say something.

"I'm gonna cum, what if-"

"You can cum, Hee baby. Go on, cum for me. You can do that for me, right?" Your voice sounds so sweet that he just wants to do whatever you say.

"But it- it's gonna get messy..." he whines and trails off. Despite his worries, his hips start bucking uncontrollably into your hand, trying to catch his high anyway — he doesn't want to stop but a small part of his conscious brain still worries about how he'll clean up his mess.

"Don't worry, baby. We can clean it up," you reassure him. "Go on, be a good boy and cum for me. And keep your hands back up."

"Okay- I..." He puts his hands back up and sucks in a deep breath as he feels himself reaching his high. That conscious part of him from earlier disappears and now, he's almost chanting, "Thank you. Thank you thank you thank-"

The moment you start harshly sucking on his neck again, he's gone; with a loud and long moan, his hips thrust into your hand and streams of cum messily come out of him, getting all over your hand, onto your pants and even onto the floor. His body is shuddering and his eyes are rolled to the back of his head as your hand starts milking him for all he's got.

You coo at him, "Good boy, baby. Such a good boy for me."

"Please-" He squeaks, head thrown back against the door. You don't stop touching him though, not even when his streaks of cum stop coming out, not even when he starts uncontrollably trembling at every touch of your hand. One of your hands continues to quickly stroke his dick while the other fondles his balls, alternating from left and right. As you squeeze them, he gasps and whimpers your name.

"You're being such a good boy, baby... just taking whatever I give you." You start licking his chest, from his navel to his nipple. Heeseung shuts his eyes tight as his body continues to tremble against his will, his hands now in fists beside his head. As you play with his nipple, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, his back arches and he can't stop himself from thrusting in and out of your hand.

"You can cum for me one more time, right?"

He groans in response, nodding. "A-a... any... thiiing... f-for... y-you."

Letting go of his nipple to whisper in his ear, you say, "Right, you did say that you're my whore."

"Y-yes, yes, yes." He gasps.

So you continue touching and stimulating him until he cums again. Throughout it, he doesn't speak at all, only making pretty noises while his body trembles. It doesn't take long before he cums again. This time, it comes as a surprise — he didn't tell you that he's close. Perhaps he, himself didn't know that he was or maybe he wasn't paying attention, too busy being lost in his own bliss. Either way, based on his reaction, it seems that he's also surprised; he cums with a scream, his voice echoes throughout the room, his eyes tightly closed, and his hips stop moving but he's still trembling all over as another shot of his cum comes out of him.

So gorgeous.

You slow down your movements, not wanting to push him too much, until you eventually stop. Heeseung pants in front of you, looking helpless and blissed out.

"See, I knew you had it in you." As you slowly coax him back to reality, you slowly become aware of how uncomfortably wet your panties are. But you push that aside for now.

It takes him a moment to come back to reality and when he does, he still feels a bit dizzy. His hands go to grip your shoulder and waist for support and you hug him to soothe and comfort him, rubbing your hand on his back — the hand that's cleaner than the other. A moment later, he breathes out a soft thank you, feeling a bit spent.

"I'll... clean everything up," he breathlessly says while hugging you. You pat his head while his arms wrap themselves tightly around you.

"That's okay, baby. I have tissues in my bag. We'll clean it up together, yeah?"

He doesn't answer you and instead, asks for a kiss. Of course, you give it to him. How could you ever say no to this man? The kiss is unsurprisingly hot, heavy and messy, your tongues intertwine together just like your breaths. He moans into it and then pulls back to kiss your neck.

"Your turn?" He whispers into your neck, his breath hot against it. You close your eyes as he starts kissing and licking your neck, his tongue hot and wet swirling on a certain spot. You grab his shoulder as he continues, and then, a moment later, you feel his sharp fangs graze against your neck but before you could make sense of what's happening, he quickly pulls away, stopping himself.

"Sorry, can I-" He gives out a shaky breath. "I wanna... make you cum." He whispers out the last part. It was so soft that you almost didn’t hear it.

"You wanna make me cum?" You whisper back, your eyes still closed, now fully aware of the tension in between your legs.

"Yeah." His hands tenderly touch your body as he says that, going down from your shoulder to your breast and finally coming to rest on your waist.

"Sure."

He kisses you again but compared to your last few kisses, this one's short. Pulling away from you, he says, "We should- uh... change positions? Would it be easier for you?"

"Ah, yeah, okay." Despite your voice sounding nonchalant, your pussy throbs at the anticipation of finally getting the attention it craves. After you both change positions, with you now leaning against the wall and him in front of you, his hands go to unbutton your shirt and unhook your bra as he kisses you.

Gripping his hair, you pull him away from you — which earns you a moan. "Go fast, I think it's almost time for class."

"There's still tons of time," he reassures you. "Barely anyone has class in this building anyway. Don't worry."

Trying to reassure you, he gives you a smile and goes back to tenderly kissing your neck. It seems that there's a clash of wants — you just want to cum while he probably just wants to take his time with you. You're about to protest but his hands and mouth on your body make you change your mind, at least for now. With his hands kneading your breasts and his mouth slowly moving from your neck to your breasts, you give out a defeated sigh.

"Fine."

With a triumphant smile, he mumbles a thank you into your skin. His mouth is now sucking your left breast, his tongue swirling around your areola and the nub, making your pussy wetter by the second. The urge to touch your pussy grows as he continues his actions. One of his hands plays with your right breast while the other goes to unbutton your pants.

All of a sudden, he lightly bites down on your breast and you jump in response, unable to stop your moan from coming out. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good."

He moans too but his moan comes out muffled against your breast. After a while, your hand grips his hair and he hisses as you move his mouth to your other breast. "Keep going baby, you're doing so good. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?"

The praise only spurs him on, his movements now getting bolder. Wasting no time, he begins to kiss it and then lick it, until finally, he takes it into his mouth, harshly sucking on the mound. You hiss and arch your back in response. With your pants now on the ground, your legs start to feel cold but your core is still hot and wet, demanding attention.

Eventually, he finally moves on, leaving your breasts to kiss down to your navel. Every kiss he leaves you is tender yet hot against your skin, just like his hands on your body. Once he reaches your navel, he kneels down and as you let him put one of your legs over his shoulder, his face is now very close to your crotch. Even so, he still doesn't give your pussy any attention yet. Instead, he starts at your inner thighs, specifically the one on his shoulder, slowly licking up closer and closer to your heat as his hands continuously move up and down your thighs. He stops where your thigh meets your groin and starts taking a small bit of your skin into his mouth to suck and bite on it.

You let him leave a hickey there — it's not like you can't hide it anyway. After he's done, he pulls away to admire his mark on you with a small satisfied smile but just as you thought he'd finally start eating you out, he starts the same thing over again, except this time, on your other thigh. You groan, beginning to get frustrated.

He seems to find it amusing, given by the fact that you can feel him softly chuckling into your thigh as he kisses it. "Heeseung." Your stern yet breathless voice only makes him smirk.

"Hmm?"

"You're being a brat," you hiss at him.

Pulling away from your thigh, he looks up at you with a defiant smirk and coyly says, "I'm only taking my time."

But as he moves to continue his actions, your authoritative voice makes him pause and shiver. "Heeseung, I will literally slap you." You're in no mood to take things slow, you just want to cum. That's all you want — to finally release all this built-up tension in your pussy.

"Kinky," he mumbles with a pout. It's not because he doesn't like being slapped — it's actually something he's willing to try especially during sex as long as you like it, but he's just pouting because he didn't get to-

Giving a frustrated sigh, you say to him, "You can leave a hickey there after I cum, damn it."

His face lights up as you say that and his hand grips your thigh. "Promise?"

"Yes!" You hiss. "Now be a good boy and make me cum."

Wasting no time, he hums and nods at your command, moving his mouth to your clothed pussy. He buries his nose and mouth in your heat, you can't stop a moan from escaping at the contact. His mouth starts kissing you, over and over again as his nose bumps against your clit.

"Fuck," you mutter, your hands gripping his hair tighter as he starts licking a long strip. It's relieving honestly — your pussy finally getting the attention it so craves... but it's not enough. You want his mouth on you, without anything else in the way. Thus, you tell him to take it off and he hums, acknowledging your command... but after a while, your panties are still on and he hasn't made a move to remove it, he just keeps on slowly eating you out with a smirk. When you finally realise that he's doing this deliberately, you snap.

"Heeseung!" Your voice is louder than you expected. "Take them off, for fuck's sake." Then, as if your mouth is on auto-pilot, you continue, "Do you want me to fucking slap you, huh? Is that what you want? You want me to fucking snap, don't you? Want me to pin you down and fuck you till your brain doesn't work anymore?"

At your words, Heeseung feels a bit intimidated but he can't help but also feel turned on at the same time. He moans into you and as he pulls away to pull down your panties, you continue, "Finally starting to take me seriously, huh? You're such a fucking brat, I swear to God, Heeseung. You just want to get punished, don't you?"

"God, you're so wet," he moans into you when he finally buries his face into your pussy again, without your panties this time.

Finally feeling his mouth on your heat, you moan in relief, pushing his head closer to your pussy while leaning against the door. His tongue starts licking up all your juices while his nose continuously bumps against your clit. Then, he starts sucking it, causing you to arch your back. "Fuck. That's right baby, keep going," you say, your tone now way calmer than before.

He hums into you as he continues to eat you out just the way you like, swirling and pressing his tongue against your pussy, sucking it, slurping up all of your juices. Your free hand now goes to play with your breast, massaging it while stimulating your nipple at the same time. His cums smears on your breasts as you do so but you couldn't care less about being clean right now.

When he inserts his tongue into your core, you loudly moan, your hand squeezing your breast tightly. And as he continues, sliding his tongue in and out of you, your pussy starts tightening around it and you gasp, "Fuck, I'm getting close. Don't you dare stop, you little brat, you hear me? I know you're thinking about it."

Gripping his hair tightly, you grind his face into your pussy, using him like a toy as you keep up a steady rhythm. He doesn't mind, of course he doesn't. He did say that you can use him however you want. And to help you reach your high, his hand moves to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Here it comes, the release you've been seeking; there's that familiar knot in your stomach and with the help of his mouth and hand, you finally reach your climax with a moan, cumming all over his face as you bask in your release. Heeseung continues eating you out throughout it, taking in all of your juices in his mouth, not letting a single drop escape. His movements grow slower as time goes by until he eventually stops and pulls away, only to leave that hickey he so wanted on your thigh.

By the time he's done, you've gained your consciousness back. Still breathing heavily, you caress his head and softly say, "Thanks."

He licks your thigh one last time and then gets up to kiss you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug while doing so. You let him, not really bothered by the taste of you in his mouth. But the kiss doesn't last long since you're still breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you say after pulling away from him.

"It's okay," he says, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing also still heavy. Your hands move to cup his face and with a swipe of your thumb, you collect your cum on his face and feed it back to him. His lips part when your thumb touches them, and he obediently sucks it without protest.

"Good boy," you praise.

You pull your thumb away from his mouth. As his arms unwrap themselves from you, you lean against the door and give out a heavy sigh. Looking back at him, you say, "We should clean ourselves up and get dressed."

With a nod, he agrees, going to get the tissues from your bag that was by the piano. When he comes back with it, you both clean up the mess you both made; first, you both clean yourselves — although Heeseung prefers to clean you more with his mouth than with the tissues, then, you clean the floor and the door that still had streaks of his cum on them, and finally, you clean your clothes.

It's when he buttons up his shirt, you notice something strange.

"The hickeys are still there," you mention, now alarmed again.

Heeseung also gets alarmed, quickly taking out his phone to see himself but then chuckles a second later when he sees how he looks through the screen. "Damn, I looked fucked up," he mumbles.

His hand grazes the still bright red bruises on his neck and his eyebrows furrow at them when he doesn't see them healing. He turns to you and asks, "Did you drink something?"

"What?" You question as your hands are buttoning your shirt.

"Did you drink a potion or something today?" He asks, still looking at himself through the screen, his eyes looking slightly dark.

You pause your actions as you try to remember.

Potion...

Oh!

You remember now. It was during Tuesday's alchemy class where Heeseung unfortunately wasn't there. You remember that your lecturer taught the class about a new potion. Apparently, it's a consumption potion which means it only works if you consume it and he so kindly let you drink some of it after he finished explaining its properties. The colour of it was a very rich shade of blue and it smelled like the ocean... but the taste was... unpleasant, to say the least.

His voice rings across your mind, "So what it does is that it drastically slows down someone's regeneration ability, not yours but anyone you touch. Use with caution, alright. Don't be killing anyone. That's against the law."

"Oh... yeah, yeah I did. During alchemy class yesterday," you say, continuing to get dressed.

"Was it blue?" He puts his phone back in his pocket and continues buttoning his shirt.

"Yeah."

"Ah... no wonder."

You expect him to continue speaking but instead, he keeps quiet and simply tries to smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt. Eventually, you ask him a question that's on your mind, hoping that he's not annoyed or angry at you for leaving too many obvious hickeys on his neck. "But what are you gonna do?"

Please don't be angry at me.

"Oh, for these?" He shows you his neck, tapping the bruises on it. Then, with a smirk, he continues, "I'll keep them. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" You stare at him, surprised at his response.

Nodding, he reassures you, "Yeah, It's no problem. It'll go away eventually."

For the second time today, you decide to take his word for it. However, you can't help but wonder how long the potion's effect will last — maybe a couple of days? Hopefully not.

When you both finally finish making yourselves look presentable again, the comfortable silence you both share suddenly turns tense and awkward. You're unsure why but the reason makes itself known to you as you make your way to grab your bag.

Heeseung calls out your name. He sounds a bit nervous as he softly asks you, "What are we?"

Grabbing your bag, you think about it for a couple of seconds. "Hm, I guess... friends with benefits?"

"Oh..." He slowly nods, looking down at the floor.

"Unless you don't want that. This can be a one-time thing if you want."

"Nono, I-" He quickly says. "I just..." Taking a deep breath, he brings his head up to make eye contact with you and continues, his voice soft and a bit unsure, "I want something more..."

You look at him as soon as you hear that; he stands there, still near the door, with his posture straight and his face serious as he looks at you. "What?" You can't help but say.

Gathering all his courage, he nods to himself and continues, "I want to date you."

Surprise is the only word that describes how you feel right now. Never in a million years would you ever think that someone here actually likes you, much less want to date you. You've never even thought about dating a supernatural before either. And although you do like Heeseung... you're still unsure if you like him more than just a friend or not. Unsure of how to reply to his sudden confession, you end up just staring at him.

At your lack of response, his cheeks begin to turn pink again and says in a shaky voice, "If that's... a bit too much then it's alright." He gives you a reassuring smile, hoping that you don't feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings. "I don't mind just being friends with you."

"Heeseung, I'm sorry, I'm not too sure," you begin. "I mean, you're the only person who's been kind to me here. I'm not sure if I like you that way... and I wouldn't want you to fall in love with me, only for me to realise later that I never really liked you more than a friend in the first place."

Silence fills the air again as he takes in your words.

"Would you... give me a chance, at least?" He finally says. "Like at least let me take you on a date? Please?" As he looks at you with such cute and innocent eyes, you find yourself smiling at him. "I can show you the world if you want..." and ever so softly, he says his next sentence, "If you promise to show me yours."

His voice sounds melodious as he says that — you could hear the genuineness and hopefulness in his voice. And as you both stand there, just staring at each other, you begin to think to yourself; why not?

"Where would you take me?"

His face immediately lights up as you say that and you can't help but laugh at his cuteness.

"Anywhere you want," he replies with a bright smile, the kind of smile that could make the whole world stop and stare.

"Okay," you softly say, walking closer to him and giving him your hand.

For the first time in your life, you find yourself feeling excited about leaving your dorm, you find yourself anticipating to explore the world that you were so hesitant to get to know. It's as if your worries about laying low suddenly don't exist. And even though you're not really dating, you still can't stop the wide smile on your face as he meets you halfway, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

"Thank you," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

"Thank you," you reply.

"For what?" He looks at you with a smile, slightly confused at your words.

Many things — for being kind to you, for being your friend, for not judging you just because you're human, and honestly, many more. But what comes out of your mouth is a simple, "Not every human has the honour of having a potential vampire boyfriend."

His laugh is bright and rich, music to your ears. His eyes crinkle as he laughs and his smile is wide. Just the sight of him laughing wholeheartedly makes your heart feel full. When he finishes laughing, his demeanour changes a bit to a playful one, leaning closer to whisper in your ear with that low voice and that signature boyish smile, "I can be much more than a vampire boyfriend."

"I have no doubt about it," you say to him as you try to calm down your beating heart.

Grabbing your bag from you with his other hand, he says, "Let me walk you to your dorm."

"Okay."

As you both reach the door, you take a look back and scan the room, just to make sure that everything's as it should be. You look back at him when you're done; he has his hand on the door as he asks you, "Ready?"

Nodding at him, you let him open the door and walk you to your dorm, your hands entwine together the whole walk.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #supernatural au #college au #enhypen hyung line #vampire #dom!reader #sub!enhypen #sub!idol #vampire!heeseung #heeseung smut #enha smut #heeseung hard hours #kpop smut

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lokideservesahug · 2 months

Text

Perfect pair

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-Pairings: Lewis Hamilton x famous!actress!Reader

Warnings: Maybe a swear word or two, idk. There is loads of mentions of dogs so Im sorry if you're allergic :(.

Notes: I saw a tik tok (by the user ayloparis) about celebrities seen on raya, the celeb dating app. And Lewis was just there (middle photo above)!?!? And it stuck in my mind (also Ben Hardy was there aswell, how random).

Summary: When you moved to Monaco, the last thing you expected was your greatest fan and a fan of a race car driver to almost force you to go on a date with said F1 driver. But when you find that same man on a dating app, it doesn't hurt that talk to him; especially because he's so gorgeous.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: Great awards weekend with an even better ending of going home to my best friend🤍

Liked by hamm4rtim4, thelomlyn and 3,987,091 others

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User1: Girls be saying the most heartfelt, sweetest things ever about someone and that someone ends up being their dog...

↳Yourusername: 😮It's me! I'm girls!

↳User2: Dont blame you tbh. I also love your dog Y/N

User3: One of these days, She'll post a soft launch (it'll never happen)

↳User4: Nothing can ever get rid of her baby from her posts!

Thelomlyn: Y/NNNNNNNN?

↳ Yourusername: You're back!!

↳ Thelomlyn: You know it. Also its probably a stretch but you know you said that you'd trust me with almost anything?

↳ Yourusername: OH no... But yeah?

↳ Thelomly/n: Well a friend of mine (hamm4rtim4) and I think we've found the perfect guy for you

↳ Yourusername: Oh... I'm intrigued. Who do you think this guy perfect for me is then?

↳ Hamm4rtim4: Sir Lewis Hamilton

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

📍Circuit de Monaco, Monte Carlo

Yourusername: What a great weekend! El made a new friend @roscoelovescoco. And well done to his dad @lewishamilton for managing to get the win, it was an amazing race. 🤍

Liked by Lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco and 3,678,905 others

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Roscoelovescoco: It's was lovely's to see's you's!

↳ Yourusername: And it was lovely to see you. Although I think El misses you already. She looks devastated without you!

↳ Roscoelovescoco: Well's we've God's to see's you's soon then!

↳ Yourusername: I wouldn't have it any other way🤍

↳User1: Awww that's so adorable

↳User 2: Lewis x Y/N and Roscoe x El. It's meant to be!!!

Lewishamilton: Thank you for your support (and for dogsitting Roscoe).

↳ Yourusername: Any time. And like I said we'll done, you did truly brilliantly this weekend 🤍

↳ Lewishamilton: ❤

↳User3: And so we're meant to believe that they aren't dating!?!?!?!?

↳User4: Ikr. They make such a good (and attractive pair)

Liked by Lewishamilton

User5: Idk why they hid it. Because if I was dating acadamy award winning actress Y/N Y/L/N, I'd never shut up about it.

Liked by Lewishamilton

↳User6: LEWIS LIKING OMD. That has to be a PR concern? RIGHT!??!?!

Mercedesamgf1: Thank you for all of your support this weekend, glad to see you found the right team to support first time. 🖤

↳ Yourusername: It wasn't difficult when you have a certain Hamilton to convince me!

↳ Mercedesamgf1: 🤨

↳ Yourusername: Yeah Roscoe is the best person in the sport!!!

↳User7: Even admin is suspicious lmao

↳User8: She thinks she's so sly...

User9: I'm just saying if they get together, then their dogs can live together and they can all live happily ever after.

Liked by Lewishamilton, yourusername

User10: Lewis likeing all of the comments about him and Y/N is so unserious yet kinda sweet.

↳User11: Like yeah he wants to show her off and let their dogs have kids as they grow old together (they aren't 100% dating)

↳User12: Awww them growing old together with their little bulldogs is adorable

Liked by yourusername

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Lewishamilton

Lewishamilton: Thank you everyone for helping me to get in that top step once again. Its been really tough the past few years but by putting lots of time and effort in it clearly payed off.

Thank you to all the mechanics for your endless work. Thank you to Toto for putting up with my constant feedback, thank you George for helping defend and let me keep that top position today. And most importantly, thank you to my 'personal cheerleader' Y/N. Who has helped to support me, bring me joy and just be a beacon of hope throughout the turbulent season start. I love you ❤

Liked by Yourusername, Mercedesamgf1 and 5,897,098 others

View all 57,764 comments

Yourusername: Love you Lew. You're amazing🤍

↳ Lewishamilton: ❤

↳User1: Awww they've been hiding in plain sight (everyone knew)

User2: Shut up that is adorable. And I love the Y/N effect. You can't have a photo dump without El

↳Yourusername: Why would you want to? Unless it has Roscoe in (I love that dog sm)

↳Roscoelovescoco: Awww's I's love's you's too's

Mercedesamgf1: Felling left out rn🥲

↳User3: I love you admin

↳User4: Well done admin

↳Yourusername: We love you admin

↳Mercedesamgf1: Aww thanks guys. Love you more!

User5: Whoever would have expected this!?!?!? Me. I did.

User6: Does this mean we'll get Lewis in a blockbuster film

↳ Yourusername: He can sing, he can dance... question is, can he act?🤔

User7: This is such a random pairing. I love it.

↳ Yourusername: You can thank @thelomlyn and @hamm4rtim4 for that

↳ Lewishamilton: Thank you you two

↳Thelomlyn: I think you just killed @hamm4rtim4. Oh my gosh. This is unreal.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Also my inbox is open if you ever have a request!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton social media au #lewis hamilton smau

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baby-yongbok · 8 months

Text

A Feeling

Boyfriend!Bang Chan × Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst with a pinch of sugar at the end

Summary: There's a feeling in your chest that you can't seem to shake.

Warnings: Mentions of betrayal, Themes of cheating, Drinking, Broken Glass, Name calling. (I think this is it, let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: Happy Birthday Dear Chrisssss, Happy Birthday to you! + I've been having some issues with writing due to my health so I hope that this piece is good lol I got approval from my best friend and I trust her so here you go! This is one of the many posts that I'll be making for Our Leaders birthday so be on the look out!

✨Masterlist✨

The sting of bourbon flooded your throat as you threw back yet another shot. What was supposed to be a date night with Chris turned into you ordering a meal for one and him staying late at the company to fix a sudden studio mistake.

It wasn't the fact that your date night got canceled that bothered you, it was something else. It was a feeling that lingered in your chest. A feeling that something was wrong. You couldn't quite put your finger on it and the more you wondered the closer you got to finishing half a bottle of bourbon by yourself. At this point you might as well wait for Chris to get home. It's about three in the morning now so he should be home any -

"Baby?" Your boyfriend's voice startled you out of your deep thoughts. "What are you still doing up?"

"I kinda got… stuck. And then I got the bourbon out and ended up a little drunk.. so put the two together and you get this." Motioning towards yourself hunched over in the barstool you sigh. "I couldn't shake this feeling..."

"Are you sober enough to talk about it?" Stalking towards you slowly, Chris takes the empty seat next to yours.

"Maybe it's best if I'm not sober for this? Maybe it'll make it easier to ask you and depending on the answer I wouldn't mind having it be harder to remember."

Confusion consumes his features as he leans forward, crossing both of his arms on the kitchen island "What could possibly be bothering you this much, babygirl?"

"I feel like.. there's something you have to tell me. I feel like today, something happened and you need to tell me but you aren't sure about it." Chris perks up a bit as you explain yourself to him. "If my feelings are correct then I need you to tell me what it is right now. Cause I can't sleep with this in my chest."

Running his hand over his face he covers his mouth for a second as he takes in all that you've said.

"Chris?" He looks up at you, directly into your eyes. "What is it?"

With a heavy sigh Chris squeezes his eyes shut as he prepares to speak. "Your friend… you know how you asked me to get Michelle a job at the company?" You shake your head as you follow his story. " Well ever since she started working there she's been.. suspiciously enthusiastic to see me. I thought that maybe she was just grateful that I got her the job and decided not to read too much into it"

Sighing, Chris runs both of his hands over his face and then looks down at the marble of the island. "Today, she went with us to assist with the Hilfiger shoot, she was just there to help make sure that it all went smoothly. Everything seemed perfectly normal until we were in the vans on our way home. I sat in the back and she made it her mission to sit next to me even though she was supposed to be in the other van. She was quiet for a bit, just listening to me Han and Felix talk until she suddenly tapped me and started talking about fate. She said that she's been waiting for an opportunity to get closer to me and this job has given her that."

He pauses as he takes a second to read your body language. You couldn't hide how tense you are even if you wanted to. Your first instinct was to explode before he could even finish his story. You wanted to call him a liar for saying that Michelle, your best friend since preschool, would say such a thing to him but sadly you knew he wasn't lying. After being with him for three years you've learned how to tell when he’s hiding something from you.

"I told her that I didn't understand. I told her that she knows I'm with you and I'm happy in this relationship. I told her that I only got her the job because you asked me to. She proceeded to talk about how much she... how much she liked me and then she told me that watching me during the shoot turned her on... then she, she uh.. she kissed me."

You urgently sat up in your seat as you imagined just what he said. There's no way that Michelle would do that to you… right? "And I pushed her away immediately, as soon as I processed the feeling I panicked and Han saw it all."

Quietly, you start to piece together everything that Chris just put out in the open. There’s no way that Michelle would never betray you like that. The two of you are partners in crime, you love each other, you respect each other.

"Michelle -" You pause, your buzzing thoughts making it more difficult to complete your sentence.. "She wouldn’t -"

You attempt to process the information over and over, the fuzziness that the bourbon’s caused making it a bit hard to piece it all together clearly but you know that it's true. It’s obvious that Chris isn't lying. He scratches the back of his neck when he's lying and on top of that, he has no reason to tell a lie about Michelle.

"That fucking skank" Your glass shatters on the kitchen floor as a storm of anger closes in on your senses. You stumble to your feet and go straight for your cell on the kitchen counter.

"Y/n" Chris swiftly stalks after you, grabbing your waist from behind.

"Fucking let go of me." You fight his hold but all it does is make him hold onto you tighter.

"You're drunk, if you're going to call her, do it tomorrow." You continue to fight him, the rage you felt was only enhanced by the bourbon and you knew that, yet you couldn't find it in you to calm the storm in your chest

"How could she do this shit?"

"Baby, please calm down." He drags you down to the kitchen floor and pulls you into his lap. To you, it felt like you were still fighting but you were still now, being cradled by Chris as you sobbed into his chest. The transition was unbeknownst to you, it was so sudden.

"How could she do that to me? She knows…" Chris shushes you as he strokes your hair. His thumb softly rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin of your thigh.

"She knows you're mine."

"I'm sorry, I was never going to keep this from you. I just didn't know.. I didn't know how to tell you. I was going to give it till the morning."

"Did you like it.."

"What?" Looking down at you with furrowed brows Chris’ grip on you loosens just for it to tighten again. "No, no I didn't. I pushed her away. I immediately felt… dirty and scared.. scared that she'd cost me your trust, scared that you'd freak out so badly that you'd hate me for even saying anything. I hated every second of it and I hate every second of this feeling that it left me with. I love you, Y/n. I've never wanted anything with anyone else and that includes Michelle."

Silence envelopes the two of you as he holds you and you him. The situation at hand was looming slowly around the two of you. You're almost positive that Chris will call Han in the morning to confirm everything that he told you. And you'll call Michelle and ask her why the fuck she thought this was okay.

"We should get you some water then into bed, it’s late" Slowly you nod your head to agree with him but before you can stand Chris scoops you up in his arms bridal style and stands. " I don't want you hurting yourself on the glass."

You look down at the shattered shot glass on the kitchen floor then back up at Chris. He’s watching you with soft eyes, a weak smile pulling at his lips. A surge of desire washes over you and you can't help what happens next. Grabbing his face with both of your hands you kiss him hard and passionate. He kisses you back with the same hunger allowing your energies to mix in a delicious and raw display of passion. As his lips tangle with yours he takes a couple steps back, away from the mess on the kitchen floor. You can hear the crack beneath his shoe as he steps on a piece of stray glass.

You comb your fingers through his hair, grabbing some of it and pull slightly at the roots. A moan slips from his lips and it drives you over the edge.

"Please." You both are panting as you pull away and plead for him. " Please, I need you."

"You're drunk." He looks down at you with sad yet lust flooded eyes. You can tell it's killing him to deny you of your desire. "Trust me, I want to but you're wasted and not even two minutes ago you were angry and crying...Right now you only want me to prove that she can’t, ask me again tomorrow and I won't hesitate"

"Okay." The Silence comes back to hug you both as he carries you into your shared bedroom and sits you onto the bed.

"I'm gonna get you some water and clean up that glass. You should shower and change into something for bed." He kisses you on your cheek and you watch him as he walks away. His black t-shirt and joggers fit him beautifully and you couldn't help but resent him for it just a bit. You don’t move, your thoughts are running too wild for you to think about doing anything else besides calling Michelle and yelling every profanity that you can think of at her. You almost don’t notice Chris come back into the room with a bottle of water in hand and confusion written on his features.

“Are you going to shower?” You look up at him with your glazed eyes, searching his features for the right answer but it’s no use.

“I don’t know.” You whisper and Chris takes a step towards you, Standing in front of you and gently guiding your head to rest on his stomach. You sigh at the contact, taking in his gentle touch.

“Maybe we’ll just call it a night? Shower in the morning.” You nod your head lazily as a tear runs down your cheek and soaks into the cotton of his shirt.

“You’re mine, right?” He pulls back from you a bit to see your face. He cups your cheeks in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“All yours, only yours.” His eyes stay on yours, a soft and loving gaze that you know holds nothing but the truth. You shake your head slightly, grinning a bit.

“You promise?” He returns your grin before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I promise.”

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brayneworms · 8 months

Text

cold as ice, baby | hinata hajime

kinktober day one: fingering

word count. 2.9k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, trans!hinata, gender neutral reader, fingering, established but new relationship, kissing, no real power dynamics but hinata likes being in control, biting, reader doesn't get touched but it's implied at the end

♪ freak - lana del rey.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Some days, Hajime's self-loathing is no joke.

It feels like the heat in Jabberwock intensifies it sometimes. Sort of... bastes it. Like it's cooking in its own filthy greasy residue and making him feel all oily and gross and hot. So, so hot. Under that stupid sun he cooks, and he sweats, and he feels like they can all smell it on him.

Probably not though. He showers every day, and nobody gets close enough to try.

It makes him feel a little sick, is all. How much he wants you sometimes. He feels gross, barely a step above Hanamura or maybe worse. He feels like he should go to jail sometimes for the way he ogles you. It's a hot island, so sometimes you have so much skin out, shoulders and legs, gleaming from sunblock lotion, slightly tacky from the whitish paste. Or the sea salt in your hair, or the chapstick you'd loaned from Saionji on your lips, apple and cinnamon. Or the swimsuits. Hajime's mouth goes dry.

He does not want to think about you in swimwear. Because then he's not going to stop thinking about you in swimwear, and it'll lead somewhere bad, which is the whole fucking issue, really.

You're so new, the both of you. He's liked you for ages, but you've only been official for a month or so. He can't just pounce on you like a starving lion. Even though he wants to. Even though he really, really wants to.

He watches you sit cross-legged with Tanaka to feed his hamsters, or get a piggyback from Owari with her strong hands on your thighs, or sit down and braid Ibuki's hair into loving little plaits, your fingers skating over the pale skin of her neck and scalp.

And it does something to him. He imagines your hands, smoothing down the tawny skin of his arms, his waist, encircling his ankles, gripping his throat, buried in his hair. He looks at your fingers and imagines them balling up the stupid standard-issue bedsheets underneath you. He sees you stretch out your legs and sees them bent in half, over his shoulders, around his waist like a vice, your pretty eyes clenched shut, your pretty mouth hung open.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach.

Avoiding you and taking a lot of cold—unforgivingly cold—showers makes for a good temporary solution, but oh look, hasn't he just shot himself in the foot and scored a home goal with it? Because it just means you come knocking on his cabin door looking for answers.

At night.

When everyone's asleep, and you're alone, and he's only wearing his boxers because of this stupid perpetual heat.

"Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your voice all small and hurt, and Hajime wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"No! Nonono," he blurts out in a panic, and he steps aside to let you in like a moron, like the idiot he so clearly is. It's not the first time you've been in his cabin, obviously, but it's night and you look all soft and vulnerable and he thinks you're freshly showered because he can smell the coconut bodywash you like to use.

But then reality breaks through because you look—honestly hurt, crossing your arms and shifting your weight from foot to foot, avoiding his eye, and then Hajime mostly just feels like a huge piece of shit.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a gesture of weariness. "It's—it really isn't anything you, uh, did. It's me. I'm just... weird."

"Weird about what?" you press, stepping forward. "C'mon, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can just... talk it out."

You're so sweet. "It's—uh, honestly, it's just kinda really embarrassing. And stupid. And... weird. And I really don't wanna weird you out, or like, make you think I'm... something I'm not, 'cause I'm not, like, the thing that you're gonna think I am but I just—"

"Hajime." Your hands on his shoulders, clamping down. The warm soft skin dimples between your fingers. Hajime's voice dies in his throat. He stares on, cheeks cherry-red, entirely too hot, sweat collecting unpleasantly on the nape of his neck. "I can guarantee nothing you tell me is going to freak me out, or whatever it is you're scared of. And I can see it's clearly... weighing down on you."

You're so nice. Weighing down on you is such a nice choice of words. In reality he probably looks constipated from stress.

"It's just—" His tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips, and your eyes absently flit down to track the movement, oh fuck, "It's just..." Bad idea bad idea bad idea. "I kind of... I don't want to come on too strong and... scare you off."

Your brow knits; he thinks he sees some sort of understanding fall into place behind your eyes, but it's kind of distant. "Come on too strong how?"

His blush spreads from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, down his neck. "I... ahaha..." The nervous breathless stupid laugh he gives makes him want to strangle himself. "Y-you know. When I'm around you, I..." He swallows hard. "It—I can't help but think about... stuff I shouldn't."

He sees the moment it clicks into place for you; the slight widening of your eyes, the parting of your lips. "A-ah."

Mortification floods him like a tsunami. "Sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should've—" He's burning alive, he's actually baking like one of Hanamaru's luxury strips of meat that he slowcooks in the oven for hours on end so the whole hotel building ends up stinking of fucking, chicken and stock and rosemary all day—

"Hajime, hey." Your hands squeeze on his shoulders. "Just—breathe for a sec, please, you're freaking me out but not for the reasons you think you are."

Hajime gulps, eyes you nervously, and takes in a few desperate pulls of air. He feels small, like he's actively shrinking.

"First of all. It's not... like, weird, you know, to f-feel that kind of stuff in general," you say, incredibly haltingly like it's very awkward for you. "But it's even less weird when you're actually, you know, in a relationship, and I—I don't want you to feel weird about this, that's all, or about telling me when you're—you know. Because I'd be down. I mean, to help. Assuming that's what you want, I mean."

Hajime stares at you. His brain abruptly throws up its hands, bluescreens, and goes for a smoke break.

"Wha—wha?" he says intelligently. You smile fondly, the kind of smile that reminds Hajime why he fell in love with you in the first place.

"Do you want me to help you out?" you repeat, very clearly, and Hajime buries his face in his hands. Heat shoots through him like liquid lightning, illuminating every pore of his body. He can feel it gather between his legs.

"You don't have to," he mutters, heart thumping against his ribcage.

"Hajime," you say pleasantly. "D'you think you're the only one who's had to hold themselves back?"

It's pure, unadulterated shock that makes him lift his face out his hands to gawp at you, but the moment he does you cup his face with both of your hands and kiss him. He wonders if you can feel the heat of his burning skin on your palms, whether you care, and then your tongue is in his mouth and he stops wondering anything at all. He groans softly against your lips, and finally his useless hands move and he's grabbing, curling a fistful of your shirt in one hand and cupping the back of your neck with the other. He feels like he's been depriving himself of you for so long, and for fucking what? You feel incredible.

He walks you backwards until your knees his the frame of his bed and you're unseated with an undignified yelp. You bounce on the mattress, peering up at him. Hajime swallows hard. "Is this... okay? We don't have to—anything you want, God, anything—"

You put two hands on his waist, just above the waistline of his boxers, and Hajime stammers to a halt. He gazes at you, wide-eyed, brilliantly red. You press your lips to the skin just under his navel and his stomach sort of convulses at the sensitivity, and you keep going, down the trail of hair that disappears behind the waistband of his underwear, kissing over the fabric until you get to—

Hajime jolts and swears. His hands clench reflexively into fists at his side. "Lay down," he bursts out, and then flushes deeper. "Uh... please. If you want to. I—"

You giggle and pry your hands off him, leaving him feeling colder than ever. Hajime watches, mouth dry as you drape yourself lazily over his bed. Your sleep short ride up your thighs, the collar of your shirt dips down, and all the skin is making his head dizzy. He clambers over you a little clumsily, hitting your knee with his with a thud that makes you wince.

"Sorry!" he panicks, hands fluttering nervously over your leg. "Sorry, did that—that was an accident, I—"

"It's okay, it's okay," you laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. "Jeez, Hajime. Relax a little maybe."

His flush must be crawling down his chest at this point. "Yeah. Maybe." He glances around. "Kind of hard."

"Is it?" you ask with a pointed glance at his boxers. He groans, but the levity is extremely welcome, makes him feel less anxious. Reminds him it's just you, and you would never seriously laugh at him. Reminds him that he's safe.

"Is it okay if I'm—I mean." He wipes his clammy palms surreptitiously over his thighs. "I feel better when I'm more... in control. Y'know?"

You smile up at him. "That's fine with me. Are you going to boss me around now?"

Hajime laughs feebly, glancing away. He thinks it's a reasonable pretense that the idea doesn't make him ten times wetter.

He kneels between your legs and kisses you. You're so soft, skin warm and pliant and fresh from the shower. He can't hold back a moan when your tongue slips against his, and when your hand slides over his waist again, the pinky finger of your hand grazing the band of his underwear, he finally plucks up the courage to grab your wrist and drag it.

He lets out a choked sound into your mouth as your pliant hand slides between his legs. Pulling back from the kiss, panting hotly against your mouth. "Okay?" he asks hoarsely. "Please, oh my god, I need... only if you want, only if you want to..."

Your hand twitches to life inside the tight grip of his fist, and you skim your fingers over the wet spot of the fabric of his underwear.

Hajime shudders, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. "Ah... oh, fuck..." His shaking hand drops your wrist, reprimanding himself fiercely for maybe grabbing you too hard, but you didn't say anything, but he shouldn't just grab you and lead you like you're cattle, he opens his mouth to apologise when you cup his cunt through his boxers and he loses the ability to do anything at all. Anything other than moan into your skin, starting to get salty from the heat and the proximity, and he goes delirious with the idea that he's ruining you a little. Like you've just showered, you'd scrubbed your body all over with lovely scented soap and he's going to undo it methodically, deliberately, and you're going to let him, when it's all over you're going to smell like sweat and him and you'll have to clean all over again.

It's an intoxicating thought, the idea that someone as soft as you would let someone like him mess you up.

Your hand slips under the waistband of his underwear, follows the trail of hair down and finding him soft and hot and dripping wet. Hajime curses as your fingers skate almost curiously over his clit, his folds.

"Oh shit," you curse, mumbling almost more to yourself. "Y-you're so wet."

He makes a high, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat, eyes clenched shut, and his hips rock up into your hand in a gesture that feels inherently needy.

Despite his grossly obvious urgency, you take the time to bring your fingers back to your mouth and press them inside. Hajime watches, slack-jawed, pupils blown. When you take your fingers out, they're gleaming wet, and you grin at him. "You taste amazing."

Hajime is assaulted with all new images; your head between his legs, his hand on the top of your hair or tangled in your hair. Your tongue, soft and skilled against him, dripping spit and cum onto the carpet, and he has to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself moaning out loud. Sweat drips off his forehead and lands on your chest.

"Y/n," he croaks. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

You smile almost shyly, as if you didn't just have your fingers in your mouth right in front of him. "O-okay. Okay. Just, um... okay, I got it."

Hajime swallows hard. "Y-you're still sure?"

"I'm so sure," you tell him earnestly. And with that your hand glides down, over his collarbones, the twin scars arching beneath his breastbone, down his tense stomach and under his boxers again. This time, your fingers move with purpose. They roll over his clit and down the centre of his folds, parting them, dipping inside just slightly before coming back up. He feels a shivering mix of pain and pleasure as two of your fingers circle his clit, an indication that he's almost too sensitive; he feels like he's on fire, like forks of lightning are emanating from the vertice between his legs, and he lets out choked, high noises against your throat.

Mindlessly, it seems, his hips roll against your head, seeking something more. You take the initiative to prod with one finger, dipping lower from the other before teasing at his entrance. His thighs shake and part slightly for you, and you slip inside without another word.

The breach feels like breathing for the first time; he's so wet and so sensitive that you slide inside with barely a hint of pain, easing in up to the first knuckle.

"Ohhh god," he groans, feeling mindless, feeling weightless. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"What should I—"

"More," he nearly begs. "I want you inside."

The word should be embarrassing, but they just aren't. Not in front of you. You get your finger in slowly, inch by inch until your knuckles press up against him and he's clenching the sheets with his free hands.

He almost convulses when your finger curls up like it's searching for something; it presses against a spongey spot inside him and he whines from somewhere deep in his chest, and he hears you swear to yourself as you start moving in and out.

"Nngh, oh—hah..."

Oh he's gonna die. Your fingers are inside him. He's gonna fuckin' die—

One turns to two turns to three, your thumb rolling constant circles over his clit, sometimes catching so sensitively that he has to bite back whimpers. There's the stretch and the burn but even that is okay, feels good after a few moments. He feels distantly really bad that he's not touching you, but he will after, fucking hell he will after, whatever you want him to, he'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on for making him feel so good right now. All too soon he feels the familiar tightening in his stomach like a band.

"H-hey," he gasps out. "I think I—I'm c-close, so..."

"O-oh," you say, sounding equally breathless. "It's okay."

Your fingers push up into him, curling almost viciously into that spot inside him just as your other hand taps his jaw and guides his face to yours for a kiss. It's barely more than panting against each other's lips as your thumb presses down hard on his clit.

"Fuck, fuck," he cries. "Fuck, you're so fuckin'—so perfect—'m cumming, shit—"

He sobs out as he cums, alight from the inside out, shaking like he's just been hit by lightning. The pressure is so much that he needs an outlet, his finges pressing bruising marks into your hip and thigh, and he turns his head and bites down almost feverishly on your collarbone.

You tap his arm with a yelp, fingers jerking inside him as he starts to come down. He can feel his release dripping down his inner thighs and he lifts his head groggily.

"Shit," he mumbles eloquently, staring at the teeth mark on your skin. He didn't break skin, thank fuck, but he still feels mortified. "Sorry. Oh my god, sorry. That was—that was a total accident, I..."

"Ah, it—it's okay." You swallow hard. "Was that..."

Hajime shakes his head dazedly. "Amazing," he croaks. "Y-you're amazing." He gets the werewithal to roll off you with his shaking limbs so his weight isn't pushing into you anymore.

You let out a long, slow breath. "Was pretty amazing for me too."

Hajime glances at you with a trickle of amusememt. "Not yet it wasn't."

Your brow scrunches in confusion—but realisation dawns when you feel his hand slide up your thigh. In his eyes is a question, one that you nod hastily to. Hajime grins weakly.

"Good," he breathes. "As soon as I get my breath back, it's your turn." And it sounds like the sweetest thing ever when he adds, a moment later with a twist of that characteristic cockiness that leaps out at the most inopportune of moments: "I can't wait to see how pretty you're gonna look when I make you cum."

#🫀.scribes #danganronpa smut #sdr2 smut #hajime hinata smut #hajime hinata x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #hajime smut #hinata smut #sdr2 oneshot #danganronpa oneshot #kinktober 2023

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wayfayrr · 23 days

Note

I’m asking as a request but if u can’t or don’t want to it’s ok. Then maybe just a quick 1 sentence answer for each Link bc I’m curious? lol, So a little while back @luimagines wrote some divorce hcs. So…how would the yandere Links deal with a reader that wants a divorce?

Divorce? you think you can be rid of them? no, no hope whatsoever.

not even death can separate you

but I do think they'd be a little different in how they handle you suggesting it (also going to be using reader suggesting a divorce because they found a way home and didn't want to make the links choose between them and hyrule)

also pinky if you see this I absolutely adore your work but never actually read the divorce hcs dfbgdgbdbfcgb (got too sad like a fool)

[masterlist]

Legend would be the fastest to start outright panicking, immediately shutting down any hopes of you leaving. Barring windows and even going as far as to chain you to the bed so you can't leave. You're his and his alone.

Tears would break down, after thinking for a second that it's a joke he'd collapse onto you sobbing for you not to leave and forget him like everyone else does. But he won't force you to stay. If he learns why you did it? well remember this fic where wars lost himself a bit- Tears would kinda come to this conclusion a lot faster quickly following you into your world

Rulie takes after legend a little, in how he handles it after the first few hours. To start with though? He's a shaky stuttery mess trying to breathe and stay calm while failing but then he instantly jumps to keeping you away from society and tied to him.

Sky would laugh it off, seeing through you and the reason that you've even suggested it, divorce isn't even a potential for him. He's been reading your diarys and keeping a close eye on you - you think he wasn't aware of this beforehand? He promises you that it isn't even a choice to follow you to your home rather than staying here before kissing you silly and grabbing your waist so tight it almost hurts. Like he's offended you'd even think such a thing.

Twilight would freeze up to start, not, refusing to believe what you said. you have to repeat it a couple of times for it to really sink in, at which point he's already started snarling, wolfie starting to show in his actions and words. He could be rational and hear you out but he's just all over the place like he's been hit by a flashbang - take your chance to get away while you have it

Four would split instantly, the colours not being able to work together through it. Each wanting to handle it in a different way ( yes I know this isn't the most canon but it's more interesting sfvvsfvs) vio wants to plan out the why, blue is in charge of safe proofing the house while green and red are all over you, taking turns to watch you so you're never unsupervised. It'll take a lot of time and rebuilt trust to get him to rejoin.

Warriors would shatter, begging, pleading, sobbing and doing anything you ask of him to stay. even if you were to ask him to make himself bleed. he doesn't eat nor sleep for days on end as he tries and begs you to tell him why, why you would ever want to leave him. He looks more ragged than he ever did on the journey like he's seconds away from death. And when you finally do tell him- he breaks down all over again tugging you into his arms as he's begging for there to be more, that you didn't do all of this to him for something so small and that it isn't even a thought to him of course he'll choose you.

Time is in a weird place, he isn't entirely familiar to hylian/human traditions yet so the word divorce itself throws him for a loop, until you explain what it is to him. Which is where he turns ice cold, the more happy go lucky time you knew is gone, replaced by someone simply wearing his face as he goes through robotic motions. for time though I could also see him using the ocarina throwing himself into a pointless loop trying to stop you from suggesting it but he can't and it slowly destroys his sanity

these got longer as I went oops, I didn't think I'd write so much for it ngl got into the flow a bit

#yeah going with short answers #I am not really in a place to write breakups or divorces lmao #I will cry <3 /lh #ex's and parents are bitches lmaooooooooooooooo #although #now saying that #I wouldn't mind writing something involving ex's of readers meeting the yan links :3c #that could be fun #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #linked universe #moss✦answers #🐰 anon

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faefictions · 9 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Reader

Fluff, dealer!Eddie (kinda), self medication, reader is not in a good headspace my guys, completely unedited

2k words

Summary: You turn to weed in hopes it will help you finally get a break from your brain, but when all else fails, your so-called dealer knows how to help.

Tired.

It wasn't only what you were, it was the only word that had been repeating in your head for the past several days. Your constant state of autopilot only interrupted occasionally to remind you of how fatigued your limbs still were.

Sleep wasn't coming easy. It never had, but your insomnia only grew worse with every day you spent trying to pretend that life was currently business as usual.

It had been three months of this. This constant state of exhaustion. This inability to make it through a day without wishing your life had turned out any other way. This yearning for anything to take your pain away.

That was how you met Eddie. Your coworker told you about a friend of a friend. Some dude who used to deal back in high school. And although his new employment circumstances were legal, she said he could still get you something.

"Maybe it'll get that stick out of your ass," she had commented while writing down the number of this "dealer". Said "stick" was none other than depression brought on by the trauma you were still refusing to talk to anyone about. It didn't feel important anymore.

What was important was figuring out a way to just sleep. You were willing to try anything to make your brain shut up for a full 8 hours, and it would be an added bonus if it could shut up for the other 16 hours of the day.

Eddie got the call from your coworker, not you, a few days later. Although you were desperate for anything to make you feel better, you weren't able to build up the energy to pick up the phone and have a conversation with a man you'd never met. Especially not a conversation in which you plead with this stranger to sell you drugs.

He wasn't eager about the idea of selling again. He still got his shit from Rick, but that was his stash only. After being accused (and exonerated) for the murder of the most popular girl in town, he did his best to keep his activities legal. He didn't need to add any more fuel to the fire of the town hating him.

That didn't include partaking in the product himself though, the thought of quitting that barely crossed his mind.

He honestly tried telling your coworker no, that he didn't do that shit anymore, but he didn't know how to tell a begging girl no.

That was how you found yourself at his trailer at 9 pm on the coldest night of October. You felt guilty even showing up, you had heard the other end of his conversation with your coworker, and you knew he was just about as excited for this interaction as you were. But you needed to try something, and he couldn't lie, he could use the spare cash. Even if it was just a few bucks.

The man who answered the door was exactly what you were expecting. She hadn't told you what Eddie had looked like, but you figured anyone with a reputation like his wasn't going to look like your average Joe.

He was wearing a faded Van Halen t-shirt that had been poorly cut into a muscle tee, long curly frizzy and falling into his face. The chains attached to his belt loops were what really sold it though. He definitely looked the part of the high school drug dealer, the kid people only pretended to like for a discount on weed. The kind of kids you had been best friends with in high school.

"You y/n?" He asked the second he opened the door. You answered with a quick nod, and he welcomed your shivering body into his home.

He never would have done any deals in his trailer in High School. Not only did he not want Wayne caught up in all of his shit, but he never wanted to let anyone know where he lived. He knew better.

But now that he lived on his own, across the lot in the same trailer park he spent a majority of his childhood in, he was less worried. Especially knowing that the person he was selling to was friends with one of the few people from his past who didn't still think he was a murderer. He just hoped you were safe to have around.

He figured you were when he opened the door and took one look at you. Nothing about you screamed trouble, not to him at least. You dressed in the same way as him, and the most concerning thing about you was the dark circles under your eyes.

For a moment he thought you had been in a fight, but as you entered and came closer to the light coming from the kitchen, he realized that they were just the bags under your eyes.

Neither of you spoke much before you left with your goods. He told you to call him when you needed more, and smiled at you as he led you out the door. That hadn't been the plan.

He was going to tell you to buy from Rick next time, or one of his other dealers in town. He didn't plan on getting caught up as the middleman, but something about you made him want to make sure he was there next time.

Sure enough, a week later, you called to ask if you could stop by that night to pick up some more weed, and you were back on his doorstep by 10pm.

He did a sly once over of you when he opened the door, making note that you still looked like you hadn't slept since he saw you last. He tried making a bit more small talk this time, hoping to get you to crack a smile, but you left just as quickly as last week.

On the third week, you had been tempted to ask Eddie to double up on what he had been giving you. You were grateful to have a couple hours a day where your brain didn't feel on fire, but you still weren't sleeping. You weren't sure more weed could help with that though.

"Probably a dumb question, but you don't happen to have anything stronger, do you?" You asked as he handed you the same amount as last time.

Your question seemed to strike a nerve with him. Not one that angered him, but one that definitely upset him. You couldn't make out his emotions, but you thought he almost seemed concerned. Little did you know, that question had brought him right back to a conversation in the woods with a particular cheerleader. Nothing good happened after she had asked him that.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, though it sounded like it pained him.

"No idea, just something to make my brain stop for a while."

He deliberated for a moment, then tried to play nonchalant when he asked, "Not sleeping, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?" You laughed bitterly.

"You look like you got hit by a bus… to put it lightly," he replied earnestly, and got a chuckle out of you.

"It's been a long year," you gave him a half hearted smile. This was still a business transaction to you, and the last thing you wanted to do was trauma dump on your dealer.

But that was exactly what he wanted.

"Can I be honest with you?" He asked, unable to fully hide his concern.

"Shoot."

"I know you're paying me, but I dont think drugs are your answer."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean I don't know what's going on in there," he gestured vaguely towards your head, "but there's other ways to feel better."

"Well I think I've exhausted all my other options," you sighed, dragging a hand down your face.

"When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"What's today?"

"Thursday."

"OK, well that would make it…. June?"

Eddie chuckled, but went right back to being worried.

"That's almost half a year."

"So you see why something stronger would do me wonders."

"I have a better idea. Do you trust me?"

You looked at him for a moment, deciding on how to answer. You barely knew him. This was your third time seeing him in person, and this was the most words you had heard come out of his mouth. Yet, the answer was yes. You trusted him wholeheartedly for some reason, but he didn't need to know that.

"Sure," you sighed, and allowed him to lead you to his couch.

He guided you to sit down, and left you with a blanket to cozy up with while he grabbed a joint from his bedroom, and an armful of snacks so you could stay put for the next few hours.

Now, taking your 4th puff from the lit joint before passing it back to him, you laid back and let him continue asking you questions.

"So you're friends with Cindy then?"

It took you a second to process who he meant. Cindy was the coworker who had recommended Eddie for weed.

"No, not really."

"Really? Because she seemed to have nothing but kind words about you."

"We're more of workplace acquaintances, I guess."

"OK. So do you live with any roommates?"

"No, just me."

"So no friends, no roommates, and no family within state lines?"

"Yeah, but it sounds more depressing when you put it like that."

"That's because it is depressing," he insisted, taking another drag from the joint. The room was just beginning to grow hazy from the smoke, and your brain was starting to feel the same.

"I think I know what's really wrong," he shot you a small smile from the other end of the couch.

"Oh yeah? Please tell me your diagnosis, Doctor Ed."

"You're lonely."

You froze for a second. Sure, it was obvious that was a big part of the problem. But how he said it, like it was almost a question. Like he knew that was the right answer, but there was still a blank he wanted you to fill in. It made you pause, unable to look him in the eye as you grabbed the joint from his hand and nearly inhaled the whole thing.

"Maybe you've got a knack for this therapy shit," you joked, hoping he wouldn't still be looking at you the same way when you returned his gaze. But he was. He was still looking at you with pity, though you could tell he was trying to hide it.

"How much do you trust me?"

"Less and less each time you ask."

"If I promise to stop asking, how would you feel about spending the night? We can watch a movie or something. And I'll drive you home in the morning."

"I dont know…"

"No strings attached, no ulterior motives. Just a guy trying to make a friend with someone just as lonely as him."

You considered for a moment. You hadn't meant what you said. No matter how many times he asked, you still trusted him. So you said yes.

You had to fight him on putting on a horror movie. It was the Halloween season after all, but you told him that watching people getting killed would make you rethink your decision to stay over.

"Feels too much like foreshadowing," you said, and he finally relented.

Instead, he found the old western he had inherited from Wayne when he moved out. You were much happier with that decision.

You fell asleep 30 minutes in, and Eddie would have complained in the morning that you had missed his favorite part, but he had fallen asleep right next to you. Your head rested on his shoulder, his head atop yours. The awkward untangling from each other was future you's problem.

For now, you were getting the full 8 hours you deserved.

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