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#this was an unnecessary a/n in the tags here
the-lil-spud · 8 hours
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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo part FOUR!
lets see what else is in store for y/n ... you didn't think Velvette was just going to let her get away now did you?
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four
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Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.
“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.
Fucked was right.
It had been a few days since your exciting little adventure to the Vee Tower, coupled with the fact Velvette had not only shared your post on Sinstagram but followed you was helping you gain thousands and thousands of new followers and likes. But like your tequila, you took this with more than a pinch of salt. The Vee’s didn’t do anything for free. There was always a catch. You were waiting for this one to hook you sooner or later.
Unfortunately for you, it was sooner rather than later. You had finished your job for the night ready to head home, plus there was a bottle of whiskey and a hot bath with your name on it. Arm raised to wave a taxi you were distracted by your phone starting to buzz in your other hand. Unknown Number. Huh, weird. Deciding to answer it you lower your arm. What harm could it do?
“Hello?”
“Is this Miss Y/n?” Frowning at the unfamiliar voice, hmm you were rather selective about who got your number. So … who was this?
“Speaking…?”
“Ah Miss Y/n I am Velvette’s assistant, and she is insisting that you come in to meet her to discuss an opportunity that you really do not want to miss out on” huh. Okay. Was not expecting that.
“Uh huhh … and when is she wanting to meet?” Looking up at the darkening sky you had a horrible feeling you weren’t going to be going home anytime soon.
“Well, what are you doing now?” Ohhh nooo! Come on!
“I have just finished work and was actu-”
“Ah perfect so you are free. Come to the Vee tower now and we will sort everything. See you soon” your mouth opened and closed as they hung up on the phone. Right eye twitching you took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. The bloody nerve! Grinding your teeth you raise your arm up again and wave at a taxi. Trying to calm your anger you shove yourself in the first one that appears, telling them to take you to the Vee Tower. Stewing in the backseat you think it must be nice to be an Overlord – just ordering small insignificant demons around. Shaking off the attitude you realise you need to tidy yourself up.
Looking down at your outfit, a sigh escapes you. Not exactly the outfit you’d want to meet the fashionista Overlord in – a leather bustier, leather pants and your customary neon pink accessories and heels matching of course with your favourite faux fur coat – but it was going to have to do. You didn’t exactly have time to prepare. Scurrying around in your purse to find your compact mirror, you quickly tidy up your eyeliner – snarling at the cabbie when he purposefully swerved nearly wrecking your makeup – and pop a new layer of dark pink lipstick on with a topping of gloss. A quick fluff to your blonde/pink hair and that was the best it was gonna get with such little time to prepare. Spying your perfume, you give a little spritz to your neck, wrists, and boobs. Noting that you’d need to get some more on your next outing as you were nearly out.
Thankfully you had just enough time to get all that done before the taxi pulled up at the tower, throwing the money at the demon you step out on the street. If possible the tower seemed even taller than before. Intimidating. Shaking your head you steel yourself for this meeting, how the last one went down with the other two is not what you want this time round. No unnecessary touching. No being cornered. And no flirting. Okay maybe a little bit of flirting, you were a demon after all. Wait – no! No! Bad thoughts!
Stepping in to the reception you check the board to see what floor Velvette was on, marching to the elevators you ignore the same receptionist who seemed surprised to see you again. Yeah, Bitch I’m back! In the elevator you press Velvette’s floor and breath deeply. It would all be okay. Perhaps they were just going to tell you how much they liked your post? Or they were wanting a thank you in person for all the followers? Or how surprised at how naïve and stupid you sounded. Shaking your head you groan softly. Of course it wasn’t doing to be okay, dealing with the Vee’s was never okay. Or safe.
At the soft ding you pulled your attention away from your depressing thoughts and instead to the scene in front of you. Velvette yelling at a load of models, other demons running around grabbing body parts off the floor and clothes being burned. Well. That was different. A twitch of your lips hid a smile – so the Vee’s weren’t as organised and poised as they’d like you to believe. Good to know.
Taking a step into what felt like the Thunderdome your movement must have caught Velvette’s attention, she suddenly was advancing on you and quite fast for someone so short. You thought you were small, but she only came up to your shoulder. Of course her attitude, energy and that amazing hairdo made up at least a foot, if not more. And living with the other two Vee’s she needed as much attitude and sass to keep up.
“Ah so you are Y/n, totally nice to meet you face to face. Saw your post girl and I am in love with them – that last photo dump was so gorgeous and hitting all the trends so good on you.” Linking her arm with yours like you two were old buddies she pulled you further into the room, her voice so quick you had to focus so intently to understand what she was saying.
“So … any who, guess you are wondering why I brought you here?” She gently shoved you down on the chaise lounge, a small ‘offt’ escapes your lips when you hit the seat. Steadying yourself you turn your body to face the Overlord who decided to take a seat right next to you. Your knees almost touching. Okay then.
“Yes, I was curious why…” a glass of champagne appeared in front of your nose – accepting it gingerly you carefully held it in your lap thanking the demon who passed her boss a glass.
“Look, your style is cute but I think with my influence your style can be out of this world – I am in the market for a new model” - a glance to the pile of body parts in the corner of the room made you gulp - “and with your figure and my style we could totally rock this Hell, making us a tonne of money and you a star so whatcha think – whatcha say I can sort the contract out asap no problem, no fuss”. Blinking in a bit of shock at the speed of what she spoke and what she was speaking about you had to hold your hand up to stop her for a second. Information overload.
“Uh – wow that’s real generous of you Miss Velvette-“
“Please call be Velvette, or Vel! None of this Miss business,” Her smirk was widening, her black lipstick was shining under the florescent lights above us.
“Well, Velvette, I am really touched that you think I could model for you as your fashion range is just fantastic and I love it – but if I am to sign that contract what am I giving you?” You pretend to take a sip from your glass. No liquid entered your lips. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d heard of someone being drugged and signing their soul away – you wouldn’t be one of those.
“Oh, nothing big really. Just something tiny. Teeny really. You wouldn’t even miss it.” She wafted one of her hands around as the other was typing away on her phone.
“Uh huh and what would that teeny tiny thing that I wouldn’t miss be?” You hedged her for the answer what you knew was coming.
“Just your soul babes – nothing big.” Yeah, to her maybe. To you it was a massive thing. And you’ll be honest, you didn’t have masses in this Hell but you did have your soul which was more than some have.
“Then the answer is going to be no, Velvette” you placed your glass down on the table. Her fingers stopped twitching across her screen, her red eyes focused solely on you. Now normally you were one to bow your head and not make eye contact, but you’d had enough of the bullying attitude of these Vee’s now – not one but two now have tried to contract you into losing your soul and you weren’t having it! Matching her glare with one of your own.
“No?” Keeping the eye contact you nodded.
“Not to say I am not grateful that you thought of me, or the fact you even took the time to speak to me. But my soul is non-negotiable. Plus, I have a job already. One which I love and want to continue. So, thank you. But my answer is and will always be - No.” You might have held your eye contact, but your hands were starting to tremble a little. Clenching them together in fists you keep your gaze on hers. A small sneer was pulling on her lips, and you were getting ready to be dismembered like the model before you. But it never came. Instead, she laughed. Laughed?!
Not like an evil MWAHAHA laugh. But a genuine laugh. Confused you wrung your hands together as she lightly slapped your knee and wiped a tear from her eye.
“You got guts girl; I’ll give you that.” A strained smile tugged at your lips, dead heart thumping in your chest. “Fine then. No soul contract – which is a shame we could have had so much fun” her expression darkened with mischief sparkling in her eyes pulling a little heat to your cheeks. “But instead let’s make a little deal? No souls just two businesswomen making a deal, whatcha say?”
Raising your eyebrows in interest you place your elbows on your knees leaning forwards: “what do you suggest?”
“Your socials are starting to take off, people are noticing you babes, and I am here for it! You are a rising star, don’t think I haven’t been paying attention and seeing that people are using your hashtags and your name when they’ve seen you at one of the clubs singing performing”, surprised she had even looked you could feel your blush deepen. “So, here’s the deal – you wear some of my designs, tag them in your socials, etc and you come and do a catwalk for me and sing?”
“You want me to promote your clothes and sing at one of your Cat Walks?” you clarify because this evening was not going the way you had planned or thought it would go.
“That’s it gorgeous – whatcha think?” You think this was probably the longest Velvette had been off her phone.
“And that’s it? No loopholes, no contracts, no soul-binding – just for me to wear your clothes, promote them on my social media and sing at one of your cat walks – that’s it?” You narrow your gaze at the Overlord, there’s got to be some sort of catch here. The way she was gazing at you like a cat that had caught the canary you were sure you were screwed in some way.
“That’s it honey. No catch, no loopholes, just good business”. Humming under your breath, you racked your brains to see if there was anything that could go wrong.
“Okay, how long do I have to promote your clothes for and when is the Catwalk show?” you ask, tapping on your own phone bringing up your notes and typing away.
“Shall we give it six months and see what happens from there? The next Catwalk is in a one month’s time” her smile only got bigger. You couldn’t think where or what could be a loophole, it seemed like too good of a deal. And your mama raised you to believe if a deal was too good to be true then it usually is. But then again. When did you ever listen to her?
“So far so good, but what do you get out of it?” Her smirk grew, well that can’t be good. She reached over and squeezed your leg softly, your eyes flitted from her hand to her smug expression.
“I get exactly what I want gorgeous, but honestly helping rising stars get their fame is mainly it” her charming smile didn’t win you over. She was a lying. But let her keep her lies for now. You knew how to play the game and so far, you hadn’t been burnt. What’s a little risk.
“Okay Velvette, you have a deal”. Raising your hand, she slapped hers into yours and gave it a strong shake – red and black smoke erupted from her making you jump back a little but was stopped from the grip she had. Her grin was terrifying. Her hair was waving around her head like it was full of static. But as soon as the smoke and lights appeared, they disappeared as if you had imagined it. Pulling your hand away, the tingle of electricity ran through your fingers, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. Not at all.
“Well then gorgeous now that’s all done – you can pop back tomorrow and we will get all your measurements and go through colour schemes, styles, etc so keep you day wide open yeah!” Finishing off her glass of champagne we leaned back against the chaise lounge – never once had she let her gaze off you.
Nodding in agreement you thank her while rising from your seat, it was time for you to go and drown yourself in that bottle of whiskey. “You can stay if you’d like?” A flush covered your cheeks at her racking her gaze up your body.
“Thank you, but I better get home. Big day tomorrow I want to be rested” you give her your best winning smile, slipping your purse under your arm. Rolling her red eyes at you she huffed a little, “fineee be boring babes”. Happily!
Before you could even think of taking a step towards the elevator the doors slid open. An unimpressed Vox stood in the middle tapping away on his own phone, not tearing his gaze away from it he steps into the room.
“So what unfortunate soul have you managed to convince to work with you now Vel?” His charismatic voice lacked his usual flare and instead sounded bored. Not something you usually would hear from the TV Demon.
Clearing your throat, you were frozen in place when his eyes connected with yours. Uh oh.
“That unfortunate soul would be me” you smile nervously at him, watching as his screen glitched slightly. That was weird. His bored expression disappeared with the glitch and in its place was his usual charming smile.
“Ah Miss Y/n what a pleasure to see you! What was that you just said?” Velvette appeared at your side, wrapping an arm through yours you watched his screen glitch a little again.
“She’s mine now Voxxie” she smirked at the glitching demon.
“She’s WHAT?!”  
Taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx
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pancakehouse · 1 year
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hello bab!! absolutely obsessed with this prompt game idea xx im giving you a choice between 12 and 19--take your pick xox
send me a richard siken line and i'll write a mini fic inspired by it
hi omg HELLO ridi!! isn't it insane! prob the worst idea anyone's ever had im so excited about it!!!!!
ahhh god okay i went with:
19. i take off my hands and i give them to you. (oh also, vaguely nsfw? like not at all but also sorta, to be safe!)
“Did you know I’m left-handed?” 
The question startles Remus. At first, he’s sure he’s misheard, muffled as the words are, spoken into the small dip of skin where his collarbone meets the bony juncture of his shoulder. It was never a spot Remus thought was particularly notable or interesting, at least not until the day Sirius Black decided to attach his lips there, and make it so. 
Remus' breath hitches. “Hm?” he murmurs. His hand tightens in Sirius’ hair, fingers scraping scalp, and he tugs lightly until Sirius lifts his head. “What?” 
Night sky leaks through the curtains, and Sirius’ eyes are shining, lips parted and cherry red. There’s always something that sits heavy in Remus’ stomach on the nights they do this, like holding your breath underwater, or the slow tick of a broken clock. Something that’s over, inevitably, just as soon as they're brave enough to admit it. 
“I said-” And Sirius is grinning, because surely he’s only thinking of the bulge in Remus’ trousers, and how they can be as loud as they want now, here, in their flat, and is not - like Remus - thinking of all the ways he’d break himself apart, limb from limb from limb, if it might drag this thing out a little bit longer. “I said…” Sirius leans in, presses a kiss under Remus’ jaw, “-did you know-” another kiss to his throat, one to his chest, “that I-” cold fingers, skirting under his waistband, “...am left handed.” Sirius finishes with a poke and a loud, wet smack just above his belly-button. He snickers into it, warm breath tickling the hairs there. 
“Yes, Pads,” Remus huffs, stomach trembling, his voice horribly shaky. “Seeing as I shared a dorm with you for seven years, and classes for just as long…yes, Sirius, I had noticed sometime in there that you were left-handed.” 
There’s a moment, still and quiet. The sheets are warm, and balmy summer air drifts through the open window. A bird perches on the sill, claws scratching into chipped white paint and grass that’s sprung up between the cracks. They look at each other - him and Sirius, not him and bird - and the heavy feeling in Remus’ stomach feels sort of nice. Like a weighted blanket.
Eventually, Sirius nods. Slowly. “Well, good,” he says. His mouth quirks in the corner. “Good, because I’ve noticed things about you, too.” 
Remus’ hands find themselves back in Sirius’ hair.
Have you? he wants to ask. What kinds of things?
And then: because there are so many things i’ve noticed about you. i noticed that you went for a run in the rain yesterday and your legs were hurting after and your hair looks lovely when it’s damp. and last week at the park your hands smelled like orange slices and sometimes you smile when i walk into the room and also sometimes you don’t. 
…have you noticed how i always smile? when i see you. but maybe it’s not obvious. maybe you don’t think it’s obvious, just like you don’t think i know you write with your left hand and have a scar across the middle knuckle from Prongs and maybe you don’t realise i kiss it every time i have the chance and maybe you don't notice how the smell of oranges in summer always makes me sneeze. have you noticed that? what else is there to see?
“Alright,” he says instead. Because it’s their flat and it’s his bedroom and Sirius’ knees are around his hips, and maybe he doesn’t feel like being brave enough to acknowledge anything else right now. 
“Alright?” Sirius laughs. “You’ll allow it?” 
“Sure.” Remus cups his cheek, grins slowly, hesitantly, into their next kiss. Do you feel this? he wants to ask. My hands, these hands, these lips…they’re all yours. Do you have any use for them? “Yeah, alright, I’ll allow it.”
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astronomeys · 2 years
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Ohhhhh so Carly fans actually like Beach House, interesting…
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achilleslyre · 1 year
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banana fish fandom done pissed me off
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kaciidubs · 1 month
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Pearl Necklace
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❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Baby…” 
Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 
“Can I ask you something?”
He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”
“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”
The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.
“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”
Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.
“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”
“Oh?” 
Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.
“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”
You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”
A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.
“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”
“I do.”
Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.
“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”
“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”
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Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.
“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”
You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.
“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.
He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”
Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”
To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.
Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.
The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.
“Ready to make that necklace for me?”
His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”
Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.
Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.
“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”
The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.
He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.
“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”
Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.
“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”
Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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emotionaldamages · 4 months
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heartbeat- oscar piastri
summary- oscar is dating a actor, who happens to be sebastian's daughter
pairings- oscar piastri x actor!reader
authors note- hi guysss, so sorry for the lag I’ve been a little bit busy, hope you enjoy😊
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y/nvettel
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liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc, and 5, 232,873
y/nvettel supporting the children I guess
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username why is charles giggle like that
username how cute
username I need a supportive partner
landonorris the photo was unnecessary
charles_leclerc you looked funny
username I wanna go to an f1 race so bad
username oh to have money
username I can't wait to meet her!
username I need some more behind the scenes content
username a red carpet look now.
username I need money for this
username devoured
oscarpiastri ❤
y/nvettel has posted a story!
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replies
landonorris that’s so fake
oscarpiastri babee what the heck
georgerussell55 good choice 👍
y/nvettel
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liked by lilyhme, oscarpiastri, and 7, 837,626
y/nvettel winter break🫶🏼☃️ my heart beats for yall
tagged oscarpiastri , landonorris, alex_albon, lilyhme
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username how cuteee
username I want what they have
username we need a lily and y/n adventure
y/nvettel soon🫡
landonorris I hate couples.
lilyhme we already said we would help you find a gf🙄
oscarpiastri the entire trip was lily stealing you from me
lilyhme deal with it
alex_albon story of our life’s man
username I need friends
username you take my breath away
username how is she so fine?
y/nvettel
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liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and 6, 837,9364
y/nvettel we outside☃️
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username oh he fine fine
username cutest daughter and father
username is your dad single?
username she ate that up tbh
lilyhme where was my invite😔
alex_albon I hope you fell
username alex is being aggressive
y/nvettel
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liked by jonathandavis, lilyhme, and 5,897,759
y/nvettel just trying to sleep but this makes my heartbeat with excitement
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username I’m so ready for season four to be filmed
username I need them to film faster
username she said 🧍🏽‍♀️ laying down
landonorris sucks not sleeping doesn’t it
jeremy7offical you can sleep in my bed
landonorris yea no
username y’all see that….
username we love lando defending oscar and her
username someone get him out of here
username oh wow.
username on the internet he says that?!?
y/nvettel
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liked by sebastianvettel, oscarpiastri, and 8,836,827
y/nvettel awards in awards
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oscarpiastri love of my life
username he’s so cute with her 😔
username she’s gorgeoussss
username she ate up all those outfits
username mother
username have my children
lilyhme literally my wife
sebastianvettel very proud of you🩷
username daddy issues are rising after that
jeremy7official let’s celebrate😉
username someone get that man out of here
username he’s a little too bold
username what.
username where’s oscar when you need him
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri we sleep and celebrate together. I make her heartbeat😉
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landonorris you tell him oscar
username lando is me asf
username ate that up oscar
username he said been there done that
username we love it
mclaren he doesn’t stand a chance
username now why is mclaren involved
y/nvettel 🥰
username ate him up
username cutest couple
username mother and father
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lewisvinga · 4 months
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because i liked a boy | carlos sainz x fem! reader
part two.
summary; an unnecessary hate train all because y/n liked a boy
fc; nicki nicole
warnings; death threats, kys comment, slut shaming, cursing , carlos kinda eh here sorry 😣
notes; requested! i would’ve used sabrina carpenter as a fc but i love nicki nicole sm i had to use her 😣
masterlist !
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liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,003,028 others!
yourusername: 🖤
tagged; carlossainz55
carlossainz55: mi amor ❤️ tq ❤️ [ily]
yourusername: tqqqq🥹
username: so this is carlos new girlfriend? 💀💀
username: oh!
username: well….
username: TE AMO Y/N!!!!
username: out of all ppl you love her??😀
username: she’s prettyyy
username: she’s cute ig😕
alexandrasaintmleux: pretty girl 💗
yourusername: ily!!!
username: alex, run!!
username: didn’t carlos JUST break up w isa ???
username: like 2 weeks ago, i 100% believe y/n is a homewrecker 💀💀
username: baby she’s a whole slut 💀
username: not liking this dark aesthetic, isa was classy and cute this is something else🤢
username: no way this is carlos type 😭😭
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 1,604,938 others!
carlossainz55: vacaciones 🏝️ [vacations]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: mi amorrrrr 💗
carlossainz55: ❤️
yourusername: the last picture 😭 you’re so unseriouss
carlossainz55: but you love it 🥸
username: hard launching your new relationship 2 weeks after breaking up w isa?? hmmm suspicious
username: CARLOS VACATION PICS!!!!!!
username: ew y/n
username: yall are haters🥱🥱🥱 she’s gorgeous and talented asf !!
username: i knoww, these bitter fans should stay away from her😒
username: we’re not bitter, we’re just telling the truth, isa was 1000x better than y/n🤢
username: this would’ve been such a good post without y/n😒😒😒
username: we miss isa!!!
username: isa was the best wag come on now
username: she’s such a slut
username: why are you dating a homewrecker ???
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liked by carlossainz55, itsyoungmiko, and 1,034,203 others!
yourusernams: a week w my faves
tagged; itsyoungmiko, pesopluma & 6 others!
username: not her hanging out w her ex during a race weekend….
username: her and peso pluma were never datingffggg it was a rumor 😭😭😭
username: no carlos???
username: not her missing carlos win just to hang out w her ex 😕
carlossainz55: ❤️ liked by yourusername !
username: we can save you carlos!!
username: hanging out w all those guys, she’s such a slut
username: carlos doesn’t deserve you!!
username: isa is 10x better, she dresses and looks better, is a supportive girlfriend, and doesn’t miss wins just to hang out w a bunch of guys! what a slut you are
username: i think the world would be better without you
username: kys
username: slut!
username: girl just break up w carlos atp we know you’re just a rebound😭😭😭😭
the comments on this post have been limited!
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y/n 💗
you know i’m tired of this, carlos.
carlos❤️
mi vida [my life], you know i can’t do anything
y/n 💗
yes you can??
just one post clarifying that you broke up with isa weeks before announcing it publicly and way before you started dating me??
and that YOU made the first move, not me
carlos ❤️
it’s not easy you know
i’m a big public figure, i can’t just post things whenever i want
y/n 💗
carlos, so am i
i have a pr team too
but if MY fans were attacking you and sending you death threats, i would post something anyways
carlos ❤️
it’s not the same, amor
y/n 💗
your fans are constantly comparing me to isa, they’re constantly slut shaming me for even appearing in the back of a picture of yours or for hanging out with my guy friends
they’re sending my death threats , telling me to kms and you won’t do anything?
carlos ❤️
it’s complicated, please, amor
i can’t control them, a post won’t change their mind
please, just calm down and we can talk more when i get home
y/n 💗
okay, fine
yourusername uploaded to their story!
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[caption 1; back in the studio 🎧] [caption 2; pov: after pulling an all nighter in the studio😵‍💫 ]
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liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,029,928 others !
yourusername: ‘because i liked a boy’ out now.
lilymhe: AHHHHH
lilymhe: FINALLY
lilymhe: ur talented i love it and i love you 💗💗💗💗😞😞😞😞🥹🥹🥹🥹
yourusername: i love uuuuu
alexandrasaintmleux: so amazing n talented 🩷 been on repeat all day!! love you!!!
yourusername: i love you!!!
username: MOTHERR
username: y/n nation , WE’RE BACK!!!
username: carlos didn’t like???
username: fuck the haters bby ur better then them all😩
username: carlos didn’t like or comment 🫤🫤
username: she ate w this one i fear
username: gagged those bitter carlos fan girls 😭
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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, and 1,098,726 others!
yourusername: thank you everyone for all the love and support 🩷 and thank you for my girls who have been by my side 💗🫂
tagged; lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt
lilymhe: WE LOVE YOUUU🫶
lilymhe: we need a girls night every night 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
yourusername: i agree 😩
alexandrasaintmleux: always by your side , pretty girl!! 🫂
yourusername: luv luv u🫶
carmenmmundt: all we need is a couple glasses of wine and we tear up the night
carmenmmundt: always by your side 4eva 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🫂
yourusername: i’m not complaining🙈
username: who needs men when you have your girls liked by yourusername !
username: hot single y/n is back, when we getting that album??
yourusername: you think because i liked a boy was the only thing i worked on? soon bby xx
1K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 7 months
Note
omg i just found your account and read “this is about oscar?” and “the video” and had an idea of like a combination of the two?? maybe like reader is his gf and we obviously know oscar is a bit of a shy, soft-spoken guy, so his girlfriend is the opposite: more outspoken, says what she’s thinking (it’s giving i am the rockstar, girlfriend vibes) so everyone like always jokes that she’s definitely topping him in the bedroom, but then something happens and a video gets leaked and people realize that it’s actually the opposite where he’s super dominant and stuff and it’s just everyone freaking out about how wrong they were 😭😭
When i tell you the SECOND i read this i was SO EXCITED to write it
She Wears The Pants, Right? (OP81)
Summary: Nobody saw it coming. Nobody.
Warnings: leaked sex tape, sexual conversations, language
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y/nnn my boy 💌
Tagged oscarpiastri
Comments:
op81fan3 walk him like a dog sis, walk him like a dog.
oscarpiastri anything for you my love ❤️
- ln4andop81 PLZZZ HE IS SO GONE FOR HER
mclarenfan2 he cooks for her, brings her flowers, MATCHES HER CLOGS 👹👹👹 i hate my life
- f1fan23 no because oscar literally sucked at cooking and only got good for her like BRO WILL DO ANYTHING FOR HER
- mclarensgirly hes her housewife like you cant tell me otherwise
ln4andop81 NO YOURE SO RIGHT
mclarensgirly i love how y/n is the big spoon in the second pic its so obvi she wears the pants in the relationship
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oscarpiastri date night 😚
Comments:
mclarensgirly she prob ordered for him
- y/nnn …yes i did
- oscarpiastri Y/N.
ln4andop81 they are arguably the most aesthetic couple on the grid
- mclaren arguably?! They are.
- oscarpiastri mclaren admin to the rescue
- y/nnn yeah bc you cant do it yourself
- ln4andop81 GAHDAMN.
- mclarensgirly JESUS CHRIST
- mclarenfan22 SHE ATE HIM UP AND SPIT HIM OUT
- landonorris where was my invite?
- oscarpiastri …
- y/nnn we didnt want you there
- landonorris damn ok 🥲
- mclarensgirly y/n really fights oscars battles for him
- mclarenfan22 she prob does other stuff for him too
- f1fan2 im fully convinced she tops him every single time
- mclarenfan2 thats so real bc there is not a SINGULAR BONE in oscars body that is even slightly capable of dominating
- mclarensgirly SO TRUE he is so soft hes just so babygirl theres no way in hell hes ever topped in his life
- ln4andop81 he prob doesnt even know what dominating is 😭😭😭
- mclarenfan22 omg no he def does but only bc y/n dominates him
- ln4andop81 YES YES EXACTLY
TWITTER
ln4andop81 yo wtf.
- mclarensgirly nobody talk to me rn.
- mclarenfan22 WE WERE SO WRONG????
- ln4andop81 “you like that baby? You like it hard and fast?” UHHHHHH OSCAR.
- mclarensgirly HIS MOANS AND GROANS WHEN SHE WOULD RESPOND TO HIS MOVEMENTS AND TOUCHES OMFG
- ln4andop81 CAN WE ADDRESS THE FACT THAT HE WAS TOPPING HER LIKE IT WAS SECOND NATURE???
- mclarenfan22 WHEN HE WRAPPED HER LEGS AROUND HIS WAIST SO HE COULD GO FASTER OMFG>>>>
- mclarensgirly no bc guys. who is that oscar.
- ln4andop81 ig its “keep it loud so everybody knows who keeps your eyes rolling and back arching” oscar
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y/nnn when your sex tape is leaked, you think you’d get multiple hate messages or something, but all I’m getting is “OSCAR’S DOMINANT???” so here are a few instances that prove who Oscar really is 😏
Comments:
mclarensgirly A FEW INSTANCES????? NAH GURL WE GET IT AFTER THAT 35 MINUTE LONG VIDEO
ln4andop81 “you’re so fucking hot baby all mine, huh? All of this is mine, remember that.” DID YOU BLANK ON THAT ORRRR
- mclarensgirly YEAH LIKE I DONT NEED ANYMORE CONVINCING
- mclarenfan22 YALL ARE MISSING THE PICTURES OF THIS POST. THE. PICTURES. PEOPLE.
- mclarensgirly omfg youre so right THE CUDDLING PIC TO MAKE US UNDERSTAND HES THE BIG SPOON 😭😭😭
- y/nnn dont get it twisted im the big spoon
- oscarpiastri do we need to leak another video?
- ln4andop81 WAS HE ALWAYS LIKE THIS OR WHAT TF
landonorris this was completely unnecessary
- oscarpiastri no it wasnt.
- oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT DAMN TIME PPL STOPPED THINKING I WAS A PUSH OVER
- y/nnn calling me a slut is such an interesting way of accomplishing that!!
- oscarpiastri we both know you liked it.
- y/nnn well, yeah.
- landonorris WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABT THIS ON MY COMMENT CHAIN. STOP.
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oscarpiastri yeah i cook and i clean, all ways i keep my girl satisfied iykyk 😉
Comments:
y/nnn yeah we get it babe you keep me sexually satisfied 🙄🙄
- oscarpiastri why are you annoyed??
- y/nnn thats actually such a good question
mclarensgirly CLAWING MY EYES OUT SCREAMINF AT THE SKY CRYING BLOOD HDJDGDJSHDNSMSIDHNDHSHD
ln4andop81 im still stunned at how off we were
- mclarensgirly thats so real bc we literally were like “oh no! He doesn’t even know what dominating is!! Haha!!” And then a day later a video of him fucking his gf and letting us all know VERY WELL he has a breeding kink leaked
- mclarenfan22 THE BREEDING KINK 😩😩 “gonna fuck you so deep and fill you with my cum so everyone knows who you belong to”
- ln4andop81 AHHHHHHFNSHDJSHJDHD THAT AND THE OVERSTIMULATION 😭 “give me one more baby youre gonna take it whether you like it or not”
- mclarensgirly hes j so ever changing
- mclarenfan22 giggling because ever changing is such a beautiful word to describe the fact that none of us thought oscar was good in bed
- y/nnn well he is
- oscarpiastri hell yeah i fucking am
3K notes · View notes
wonlvkay · 18 days
Text
paint my soul, gentle brushstrokes ― park sunghoon
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preview. migrating to a new country with a scholarship, away from the whirlpool of toxicities, to study at an art college, you thought you could settle in serenity. maybe your expectations of various things were high. you were far from peace, in fact, you didn't fit in at all. from the students to the professors, everyone despised you. except that particular professor, park sunghoon. the one who taught art, the only one you could open up to.
genre. student! reader x professor! sunghoon. angst. fluff. slow burn. forbidden love.
warnings. DARK THEMES!!! smut. family issues. mentions of depression. suicidal thoughts. cheating. age gap! (9 years). reader is (19). sunghoon is (28). bullying. unfair treatment. love starved reader. morally grey characters. mentions of death/ getting killed. mentions of abuse. nightmares. anxiety. a bunch of mental illnesses.
Comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated
🎬― 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖
you force your way through the crowded corridors of students, pushing past a sea of bodies that all seem to be eyeing you with some degree of judgment. the exciting chatters, sound of boys mucking around with their mates buzzed in the hallways like a typical high school.
you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. you just had to navigate to the principle's office and your good to go to class. lost in those unnecessary thoughts of yours, you bump into someone. you almost fell backwards but thank goodness you didn't. you were so close to embarrassing yourself on your first day.
you look up to take in that the person was an insanely gorgeous man. the way his bangs fell over his forehead, how his sharp jawline framed his face, the moles scattered across his features, fangs resting on soft pink lips, you memorized it all. the act of apologizing had long slipped off your mind as you were occupied with staring.
a chuckle snapped the train of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. "take a picture. it'll last longer" the male stated, a smile tugging at his lips. "oh! i apologize for bumping into you!" you bowed. "that's alright. are you new here? haven't seen you around" he interrogated curiously. "i'm y/n. i've just transferred here" you answered, your shy personality affecting the tone of your voice.
"i'm park sunghoon. and mr park to you. i'll be teaching you art" he spoke in a casual way. you apologized again as his words hit you that he's a professor. you were amusing to him. from your shy demeanor to the way you fidget nervously, everything about you seems so innocent. "c-can you please direct me to the principle's office?" you stuttered out, hoping to get an answer before he leaves.
"come i'll show you" he grinned "the hallways are complicated. follow me" he lead the way. it then drawn on you that every eye in the hall was on you. you were so absorbed in the interaction with sunghoon that you didn't catch the scowls and daggers that they sent. he must be popular to own his own fanbase. you pushed all those thoughts aside as you followed him to the office, hoping the corridors will never end so you could always follow his lead.
taglist (open) : @smisworld @lilyuwon @skylaly @loljaeyunz @capri-cuntz @namdeyuoi @flowerbe0m @eneiyri @hanjisbeloved @minniejenseo @wonheeis @idkdykilr @imjakes-wifeofc1 @sunoozznn @iselltulips @qu13xy47aop12-blog @tobiosbbyghorl @strxwbloody @tinyteezer @dengenei @kienhawon @anittamaxwynnn @sunghoonsgff (i'll send dms to those i can't tag)
517 notes · View notes
roseykat · 6 months
Text
KINKTOBER DAY 9
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TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you
PAIRING: Seungmin x reader
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.
TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.
KINK: Freelance
KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST
TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604
A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x
There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you. 
Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it. 
He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them. 
The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him. 
“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”
Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”
“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”
“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.
“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff. 
“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.” 
Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”
“Can’t do that either-“
“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”
Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”
You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being paid to do.”
“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.” 
“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him. 
“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough. 
“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”
“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.
You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.” 
It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face. 
“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”
“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back. 
“Bingo.”
“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through. 
“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.” 
Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”
“It’s just me, I swear.”
“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?” 
It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.
In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?
So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes. 
He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people. 
“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class. 
You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are. 
“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall. 
“Hey,” you call out to him. 
“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him. 
“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”
“Geez, that bad is he?”
“The fucking worst,” you confirm.
However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week. 
You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.
“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.
“And if I don’t?” 
“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table. 
“See, how hard was that?” 
You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”
Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”
You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”
“Say it again.”
“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”
“Fucking brat.” 
Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth. 
In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.
Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy. 
It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on. 
“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase. 
“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin. 
You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act. 
“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego. 
His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.” 
You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. 
His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up. 
“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down. 
Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear. 
“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble. 
His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder. 
It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.
Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head. 
“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers. 
Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed. 
“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”
Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just. 
Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining. 
“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps. 
Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.
He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:
“Are you a virgin?” He asks. 
You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”
“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation. 
“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.” 
“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace. 
You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way. 
“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support. 
He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly. 
His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear. 
“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.” 
No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before. 
“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back. 
“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.” 
Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.
Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him. 
“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”
Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.” 
It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat. 
“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard. 
“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.” 
Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second. 
“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!” 
With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half. 
“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.” 
He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile. 
-
A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao
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kierahn · 5 months
Note
yandere police officer x wanted criminal male reader :D?
A GAME OF TAG. [ y ! police officer x m ! criminal reader ]
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yandere ! police officer x criminal ! male reader
warnings:
suggestive content (16+)
agressive handling from yan! officer
request/ask here.
a rushed update since i haven't posted in a while :] i have a long weekend ahead, i might be able to catch up with writing some of the piled up requests in my inbox.
× silas cromwell. it was a known fact to everyone in town that he and you were long-term rivals; like the two opposing sides of a coin. you were his favorite criminal. but you ? you didn't really like him that much; all snugged and smug in his police uniform. you were not one to get along with his kind too well.
× this game of cat and mouse between you and silas had been going on for about 2 years now. the young officer would always find himself facing a dead end everytime he tried to uncover your real identity. it was a pain in the ass for silas to chase someone he didn't know much about around.
× it was a frustratingly long chase, but silas would always find himself grinning at the thought of emerging as the victor of this game of chase you had started. little by little, his obssession with you grew.
× and, finally, he claimed sweet victory. what was more sweeter than having the most notorious mastermind himself in his grasp ? after 2 years of restlessly pursuing you, he finally had you on the tip of his fingers.
× "so what do you intend to do now, dear officer ?" the criminal asks smugly, his hands cuffed behind him and a blindfold taking away his vision as he sat on his knees before the officer. a delicious sight for silas to take in. "hand me over to the 'authorities' ? let their so-called justice deal with me ? tell me," you continued to prod him for answers, your smug smile never fading. oh, how he would love to break through that confident facade of yours.
× "i believe you don't fully understand, y/n." silas draws out after snapping out of his thoughts, standing before your kneeled form. a cold hand placed itself under your chin, sending a shiver up your spine. "i'm the authority. i'll be the one delivering justice." his voice dropped to a hauntingly low tone, holding a hint of threat that made something inside of you click.
× all this time, you've been the one in charge of leading the chase between you two; the one who was always on top of the game you yourself started. but now silas had taken the control out of your hands.
× "it seems like you're finally starting to realize," silas' voice started to move around you, your lack of sight heightening your sense of hearing. "GH–!" a harsh blow to your stomach causes you to slouch over in pain, a pained groan escaping your lips.
× you violently coughed, the harsh kick causing your breath to stop for a second. you pant heavily, drool spilling from your lips. for a flimsy officer like him, silas really knew how to use his feet to make it hurt. "that was very foul move, officer–" a cough, then a mocking laugh. "kicking down a defenseless opponent is completely unnecessary."
× a tug to your hair and a large hand encasing your cheeks tightly into a bruising grip. your laid-back attitude was starting to get on his nerves. why weren't you cowering in fear before him like he had expected ? you weren't taking him seriously at all.
× "y/n l/n, you have some nerve." you could sense that silas was very, very close to you with how his hot breath kissed the tip of your nose. however, you remained unfazed. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you all vulnerable.
× but he would get his satisfaction either way. he always gets his way. "maybe we can find a better use for that pretty mouth of yours." his grip on your cheeks slightly loosened, his thumb glazing over your lower lip.
× "consider this my reward for winning this childish game of tag."
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shuamorollss · 4 months
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Café Amnesia — l.sm x f!reader
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— When your insane crush on Lee Seokmin hits a curb when he yells out the wrong name for your order whilst having your name written perfectly fine on your cup.
How the hell was he able to fuck your name up so badly?
On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.
romcom, mutual pining, cafe au with a pinch of univ, strangers2friends2lovers warnings/notes— They're both whipped for each other(Seokmin mostly), there's a whole segment of reader suffering from period cramps, uhmm I'll add more :> 1.7k wc TEASER . Estimated full wc: 10k-12k + reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon @writingmeraki
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"Girl, take your chance. He's right there taking orders!" Im Nayeon encouraged as the both of you took a step inside the bittersweet aromatic premises.
Oh yes, this very Café, not only were you a regular customer here, you were also known by your friends to be limping hearts for someone around these ambient walls.
Strangers might say, Oh, this person must really love the coffee here.
Although your friends would definitely say, Oh, he just loves the coffee made by brew. A code name your friends have made to pertain to him.
The very ‘brew’ on the counter, taking orders with his usual sweet smile.
Lee Seokmin.
Oh that man, how could you ever describe him?
Seokmin’s a family friend, you usually see him outside Café territory. Even visiting your home multiple times just to have a chat with your family. Crazy how a guy so cute and so close to your age is more talkative with the likes of your aunts and uncles.
You have always noticed his presence even before he started working in your favorite Café, though you only developed ominous worries by the time he started working there.
There was something about his mere presence that irks you a certain way, never in a bad way, quite unsure in a good way.
How would he have this effect on you so suddenly?
It doesn't make sense.
You only view him discerningly from your balcony as he laughs with your mom at the gate. He’s a peculiar guy, who only visits your home to greet anyone but the people his age.
You didn't care about it, you didn't even ponder any further with his visits, you weren't as much bothered with his bond with your relatives… So why do you feel the opposite of the things just mentioned now?
"Uhm, Y/N?" a voice echoed, shaking you through your thoughts.
"Huh? "
You blinked out of your rainbow towered thoughts, checking the very man standing in front of you with an intense gaze.
Everything felt sudden, you were just giggling with Nayeon earlier at the back of the line and now you're… here.
"Your order please?" He repeats, raising his brow as his eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting for your response.
As much as you wanted to, you couldn't take a look at his face for longer than 2 seconds. You didn't want to become a blushing, stuttering mess in front of him, you had to erase such humiliation as this has probably happened to many times within his view.
You take a good look at the menu for a short while, subtly attempting to compose yourself. Then back to looking into his eyes with a determined smile.
"Ah— Uhm… Two iced caffe latte please." you spoke out, you eyes averting away after you realized you might be looking at him for a bit too long.
"Size?" He questioned.
"Both grande."
“Alright, name?” He asks, leaving you slightly dumber and might be dumbest since you were so so sure he had mentioned your name before, the name you own, the name he lets out to escape you from the unrealistic wonders of your mind.
Well, you guess he had to do it for the professional setting.
“Y/N.” You answered with a warm smile.
He nodded, starting to scribble your name on both cups.
You stared at him for a brief second before darting your eyes out of his figure again. It was an awkward, unnecessary feat you have, however you feel a pinch of guilt for staring at him for too long… You didn't think you would have a chance anyway, or would even notice your gaze fixated on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.
You were great with eye contact, you swore that to life.
Now it’s just different in front of him.
The transaction ended smoothly, thankfully, he gave out your remaining change and you turned around leaving with a wide grin that seemed stuck on your face for the next few minutes.
Nayeon notices your change of demeanor, mirroring your subtle excitement as your footsteps approach her figure.
“So, how did it go?!” She slowly squealed, her bunny teeth entirely evident as her emotions seemed to be ecstatic at yours.
“It went good,” You answer with the same wide grin. “It went with the usual order but this time, he asked for my name.”
Nayeon’s smile immediately falters at your answer, her reaction unsatisfied.
“Y/N, that's… he does that to everyone, it’s his job.” She deadpans.
“No no no, I mean. I was like— thinking about something you know?— I was in deep thought, and then Seok— I mean him, Brew, called me by my name and that took me out of my trance,” You paused, earning back your composure. “Then all of a sudden, he just asks me for my name when he was about to write it on the cup? Like, isn't that weird?! He called me before, with the perfect pronunciation of my name, and then asks about it afterwards?”
Nayeon’s reaction did make any sort of change, yet here you are, at the verge of squealing at the half-assed interaction she had ever heard.
Though, to be fair, she had heard more shit stains than this.
“Darling, Y/N, I'm sorry, but, you just have to get better than that..?” Her tone rose unsurely, you could tell she wasn't atoned with the happening, well, it wasn't supposed to be squealed about. You couldn't admit it to her but, it was indeed a boring interaction.
As much as you were extremely down bad for the man, you couldn't act upon it. Why would you? He’s so out of your reach. He wouldn't even look at you in the eyes, never even greeted you when you were at home, and not even bothered to have your parents introduce him to you.
So why would you try and befriend him if the hints are obviously at plain sight that your parents don't want him for you.
Gahh?! What is wrong with me?! you argue along with your conscience. This case seriously needs to be studied for the reason that this regression did not go unnoticed by you. You had a chance to talk to him before but now it just seems too far of a run to be able to reach.
As you and Nayeon remain seated, patiently waiting for your order while she voices out her stress about the upcoming midterm exams, a certain voice echoes throughout the area.
A name kept being called.
Twice, thrice, you don't even know how to word it out the fourth time and so on.
It was embarrassing how this man, Seokmin, was honking a name no one responds to in such a quiet auranescent place. Almost everyone in the Café gave their shares of baffled looks at Seokmin’s way, you gave your shares of it also, until Seokmin’s gaze points at you.
The drink on his hands reached out to your direction, mouthing the words to what seems to be “you.”
Nayeon catches onto this quickly and nudges you out of your seat, so you could reach the drinks on what you assumed to be yours and Nayeon’s, which in fact right now, you were still unsure of.
You make your way awkwardly towards the man, your eyes circling around the Café, releasing a breath of relief at the realization that the customers had gone back to their personal businesses, although the embarrassing flush still creeps into you as you step closer and closer to the counter.
“You, yes you.” Seokmin lets out with a sigh of relief you swore you just did a few seconds back.
“Here's your order, I’ve been calling out for you for 4 years.” He jokes, a bit weak but it was tolerable. He’s handing the two lattes you ordered, still dumbfounded at the fact this was your order.
But he said your name wrong
extremely wrong. unpleasantly wrong. absolutely wrong.
It wasn't even close to your name at all— it's just wrong.
You never felt so embarrassingly offended in your life.
The way he says that too casually, audaciously loud, couldn't even set you off to the right track. You still think he's getting the wrong person to give this order to.
But it was the correct order, the one you recited to him.
He knew you, that's for sure, but how— wha?—
“Oh, thanks.” You say dryly, grabbing your order and walking away with a forced smile. Not even bothering to correct him, just because.
You examine the drink, still unsure if this was actually what you ordered (Which it really is), then turning it to the other side of the cup to read your name,
perfectly spelled.
Which bombards your thoughts with even more questions.
How was he able to fuck your name up so badly?
On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.
You went back to the gracious face from Nayeon holding her laugh.
“Well, that's what I call an interaction.” She welled, leaning back onto her seat with a squeaky laugh.
You were quite embarrassed by the whole situation, yet a gush of butterflies lingered in your stomach shooting to the realization that Seokmin had joked with you.
It was unusual, but you’d be content with it at best.
Nayeon repeats the name Seokmin kept calling out a few minutes back, which somehow became unbearable coming from her.
You slide her drink with a clear frown, aggressively sitting on your seat without laying a single look at your friend.
“Oh come on, Y/N, you know I'm just kidding..— woah.” Her eyes widened as her eyes lays at the name spelt on her drink. You could tell the element of surprise creeping up into her whole being as she tries to piece things together.
“Y/N, your name is spelled correctly here?”
You roll your eyes, “Wow, I didn't even notice.” You reply with evidently toned grouchiness.
She gives you the same wide eyes yet the edges of her lips begin to perk up.
You know where she's getting at.
“Y/N! Do you know what this means?!”
You lock your gaze at her, waiting to continue her words.
“He yelled and butchered your name on purpose!” She says ecstatically.
Yeah, you have already established that.
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© shuamorollss. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months
Text
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✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)
✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.
canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.
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The taste of intimacy is acrid.
It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.
Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.
"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."
Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.
Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.
He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.
But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.
This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."
You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.
And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.
Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.
And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.
"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."
Shit. Shit.
"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"
"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."
A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.
Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.
"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."
You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.
"For?"
The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."
"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."
Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.
But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.
He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.
Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.
But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.
Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.
"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."
A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.
You must know something better than him.
Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.
The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.
"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."
There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.
You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.
"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"
Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.
You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.
You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.
The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.
But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.
He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.
When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.
His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"
You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.
"I'm quite relieved."
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konigbabe · 8 months
Text
steal the thunder - I -
Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.
Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.
masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi
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There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.
The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.
The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.
A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.
"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.
He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.
"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"
You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.
"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."
The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.
"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."
"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.
You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?
No.
Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.
"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.
Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.
"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"
The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.
"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.
Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.
You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.
A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.
He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.
"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.
"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.
Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.
"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"
The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.
"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"
"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.
A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.
You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.
A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.
In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.
His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –
But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.
Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.
Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.
It hits you then–
"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.
–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.
Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.
Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.
Except it doesn't.
"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.
Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.
Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.
The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.
"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."
Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.
"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.
A fortunate circumstance.
"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.
The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."
With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.
"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.
His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.
You don't give him time to react properly.
The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.
As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.
With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.
Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–
"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.
The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.
The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.
"Not bad at all."
–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.
Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.
His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.
With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.
Crack.
He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you
"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"
With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."
A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"
You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.
"The name's Hajime Kashimo."
The words hang, a telltale echo–
Hajime Kashimo.
–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.
The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.
And here, right before you, stands the man himself.
"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"
The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."
He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.
"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.
Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.
An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.
Detain an attack when it comes,–
Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.
–and send it away when it retreats.
Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.
"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.
"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.
"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.
Once the hand is freed from contact,–
A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.
–carry out a strike with it.
Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.
It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.
As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.
"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.
This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.
Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.
Chase the movement of the opponent–
As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.
While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.
–to continue the attack.
It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.
One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.
Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.
The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.
Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.
Then you take off.
With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.
"Running so soon?"
His taunting words reach you.
"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.
Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.
Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.
In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.
Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.
A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.
"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.
Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.
Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."
He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm
"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.
Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.
"–that I'm only stretching."
His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.
A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.
"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.
It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.
With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.
Or so you thought.
Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.
He must've reinforced his cursed energy.
"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.
The final move.
And it failed.
It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.
As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.
But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.
As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.
Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.
The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.
A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.
If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.
His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.
"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.
"It's accumulated enough."
That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.
His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.
The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.
The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:
Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.
However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.
In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.
As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.
So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.
It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.
The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.
"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.
Implosion.
The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.
The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.
Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.
"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."
"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."
He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.
"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"
The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.
"On vaca–"
The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.
"Don't play with me. Spit it out."
"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."
From here, everything dissolves into darkness.
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The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.
Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.
Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.
"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.
The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"
Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…
Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.
It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.
"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.
And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 11 months
Text
Unholy
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pairing: sugar daddy!Seungcheol x socialite!reader
genre: smut smut SMUT - minors dni.
warnings: dom!cheol, bratty sub!reader, thigh riding, cursing, ass slapping, cheating, degradation, use of petnames (baby, princess, darling), daddy kink, hair pulling, manhandling, unprotected sex (stay safe), mentions of breeding, marking, finger sucking, possessiveness, cheol and reader are actual red flags
no word count, it was speed-written
summary: inspired by Unholy - Sam Smith ft. Kim Petras
Author’s note: This was written on an absolute whim i’m going through some serious cheolrot - tagging @duhnova​ for obvious reasons
nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17​ @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu
© multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.
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“Come on, princess, shake those hips like I know you can,” Seungcheol slaps your ass and you whine, “Better give me a good reason for letting your pussy make a mess over my pants.”
“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you pout your lips and speed up your hips, grinding your pussy over the crushed velvety material of his pants, “Your thigh feels so fucking good, ugh.”
“Darling,” Seungcheol grips your jaw and forces you to look directly at him, “A pretty little baby like you shouldn’t use bad words.” He parts your lips with his thumb and you eagerly suck on it, moaning and swirling your tongue around the thick digit as if it was a cherry lollipop.
“Oh, Y/N...” Seungcheol chuckles as he watches your body shake over his thigh, “You’re trying so hard to be worth my time and money, don’t you?”
Under different circumstances, you would have clawed his eyes out for treating you like another desperate gold digger, but quite frankly? He was absolutely right in everything he said.
You don’t even need his money, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it when you use his sleek black card to pay for all the unnecessary accessories, makeup and clothes that shine a bit more than a set of Swarowski earrings. Besides, it’s not like they were unnecessary to you, since being a socialite practically requires flashy clothes and accessories.
Choi Seungcheol is no better than you - a seemingly responsible man, attending all social events with his beloved wife, never missing a chance to show how much he adores her in front of the cameras and blinding lights of the high society.
That’s what she thinks as well, judging from the comfortable and luxurious life she’s leading thanks to her lovely husband.
Except said husband loves money more than anything else. And if it’s money well spent? Two birds with one stone.
Another thing Seungcheol loves is getting his dick wet - And your pussy does that with a perfect streak of two months.
“I’m definitely more worth than your little trophy wife,” you bite back with a smirk, “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here to fuck me, Cheol.”
His demeanor changes within a split second and he’s lifting you off his thigh, throwing you over his shoulder and then throwing you on the bed of your apartment, face down on the mattress and ass up in the air.
“You are in no fucking place to talk about my life, little bitch,” he flips over your dress and harshly pulls your panties from your body, ripping the flimsy material in half, “Nepo babies like you only want to spend money and fuck around like you own the world.”
Seungcheol slaps your ass once, twice and two more times before he unbuckles his soiled pants to let his rock hard cock spring free. He digs his hand in your hair and pushes his cock in your cunt with one swift motion, your eyes rolling in the back of your skull.
He starts fucking you like a mad man, his pelvis slapping against your ass without mercy. You almost feel like frothing at the mouth from how good it feels to let the fat tip of his shaft bully your pussy and 
“Fucking nepo baby with a fucking tight cunt,” he grunts, his lips hovering above the shell of your ear, “My fucking nepo baby. Say it.”
“Y-Your nepo b-baby,” you gasp, “Oh my God, Daddy, your cock is so good!”
“That’s more like it,” Seungcheol plants his right leg in the mattress to fuck his cock deeper in you, “That’s how you should act when you’re with me, especially underneath me, Y/N.”
The noises you make are whiny, loud and utter music to his ears. You’re drooling on the sheets, your hair sticking out in random directions due to Seungcheol’s iron grip on it, mind going blank from pleasure.
The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens to the point of breaking in a rather violent manner, the previous stimulation from riding Seungcheol’s thigh amplifying that sensation.  
“D-Daddy, I’m gonna cum, fuckfuckfuck, I’m cumming!” You scream like a baby bunny caught by a predator as your pussy tightens around his cock, your walls massaging his length in a final attempt to milk him.
Your heart drops when Seungcheol pulls out his cock and jerks himself off until he blows his load all over your ass, milky streaks painting your skin. He lets out a groan and taps his cock on your asscheek, biting his lip at your wrecked sight.
“Why didn’t you come inside me?!” 
“Oh darling,” Seungcheol buttons his pants and smooths over his clothes, “Did you really think you deserved to get your pussy filled up with my cum after misbehaving so much?”
“But-” You opt to protest and sit up, but Seungcheol stops you with his hand on your jaw again.
“Y/N. If I say ‘shut up’, you shut up. If I say ‘cum’, you cum. If I say you don’t deserve my cum in you, then you fucking don’t.” He taps your cheek twice and captures your lips in a short-lived yet filthy kiss full of his tongue, leaving you wanting for more. 
“See you next week, princess - You better behave until then or I’m cutting down on your ‘pretty girl with pretty pussy’ privileges.”
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callmerainman · 1 month
Text
NEVER LET ME GO | Adam x fem!angel!Reader
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plot. it's official, you're in love with Adam. and it's also official, that you fucking hate him.
word count. 700 - drabble
tags. major character death, grief, angst, loss, mourning, crying, falling in love, established relationship, hurt no comfort, Adam and Reader are in love, beginning heavily inspired by 500 Days of Summer.
I think it’s official. I’m in love with Adam. I love his smile. I love his messy, brown hair. I love the shade of black under his eyes. And I love his golden irises too. I love his mask, and the way he only takes it off in public just to kiss me. I love how he licks his lips while he’s focused on practicing electric guitar. And I love the sound of his whole-hearted laughs, often at his own jokes. I love the way he looks when he’s sleeping, because it’s one of the few times his face is relaxed. I love how he dedicates me songs and serenades them for me with his guitar, even if the lyrics can be vulgar. I love his humor, which is over the top but I can’t help it, he makes me laugh. And I love the way he makes love to me, he’s intense but also occasionally so tender, whispering praises in my ear and telling me how glad he is that for once, he found someone that wouldn’t leave his side. I love how he makes me feel. Like...anything’s possible. Like living in eternity is worth it.
I hate Adam. I hate his shit-eating grin. I hate his scrawny haircut. I hate the bags under his eyes that make him look like an insomniac. And I hate his piss-colored irises too. I hate his stupid mask, and the way he takes it off in public only when he has to kiss me like he thinks he's too special to be seen. I hate the way he wets his lips while he’s focused on playing the electric guitar, it’s unnecessary. I hate his annoying laugh, why laughing at your own jokes if they aren't even funny. I hate the way he sleeps with his mouth open and snores. I hate the stupid songs he dedicates me, the lyrics make no sense. I hate his childish humor, he talks like he just learned curse words. I hate the way he makes love to me, talking to me nicely as if he isn’t a jerk. And I fucking hate the way he’s making me feel. Because I hate the fact that Adam’s not here anymore and that I can’t live an eternity with him.
---
“You’re (Y/N), right?”.
I look up, my lips pressed close together. Lute, Adam’s second in command and best friend, is looking at me. The sound of waves crushing against the shoreline is invasive. The sun is setting on the beach and it glares behind her frame. I unwrap my arms from around my curled legs, and I tuck my wings on my sides.
“Yeah, it’s me” I say, stoic.
My brows are furrowed and my stare is serious. She’s reciprocating with the same, cold look.
“You were Adam’s closest affection, weren’t you?” Lute asks.
I scoff, shrugging my shoulders “I wouldn’t say that”.
Lute looks at me with a deep scowl. Her face morphs in annoyance, she didn’t like that. Without a word, I get up, sprinkles of sand rolling down my thighs and wings. I plant myself in front of her, sustaining her burning eyes.
“You two were together" she says.
“We weren't”
“Stop bullshitting me”
“I barely knew him”
“Adam loved you!” Lute snaps, and I flinch in surprise, my lips slightly falling open “Adam loved you and you loved him”.
She steps closer, she would look menacing if it wasn’t for the evident, deep-rooted pain in her eyes. The same I’m experiencing, and she knows that. She grits her teeth, and unexpectedly shoves something in my chest with her only arm.
“So you better drop the fucking tough girl act” she hisses “and mourn him properly”.
Lute’s furious look lingers on me a little longer. It almost looks pitiful, but I think she’s trying to tell me in every way possible that she’s feeling nothing but the same things as me. Then, she lets go of the hold she had on whatever I’m clutching to my chest now, and walks away without another word. I look down. The moment I realize what I’m holding, my brows shoot upwards.
Adam’s halo. It lost its glow, forever. Now is just a pale imitation of what its holder was before. Then, my knees give up, and I fall on them. Holding the halo close to my chest, I finally let tears invade my eyes and roll down my cheeks as I can’t stop sobbing furiously. I fucking hate Adam. I hate him because I loved him and now he can’t be here anymore.
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