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#it was the best of times for raven and a relief—
yizmiu · 3 days
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KISSES FROM YOU 〻ᯇ # yang jungwon
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001. your girlfriend | smau + written (1351 wrds)
IN WHICH ✶ a long time rivalry being used as a cover up for secret feelings. hwan y/n and yang jungwon have always seen each other as competition, being known as some of the cities bests track stars, hatred between the two was bound to happen.
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“You’re joking.” Y/n scoffed after hearing all her friends say, ‘Not it’. “That’s not fair! I thought we were all going together…what if they catch me?” Y/n asked.
“They won’t catch you, all you have to do is climb the gate, find the main room, replace their flag with ours and spread fake raven feathers around the building... Easy.” Song Eunseok shrugged his shoulders. “Easy? that’s not fucking easy.” Y/n groans in annoyance. “You got the legs to climb that gate, you never skip leg day and you’re a long jump pro so…” Jang Wonyoung said, sucking her lips in.
“Seriously, if I get caught then it’s over for me.” Y/n sighed, thinking about how this was her last season competing for the ‘Iris Ravens’.
“Please, Please, Please keep a lookout for me and clap five times if you see a security guard.” Y/n begged. “Of course, you got this, and besides this is just payback from the time they got dogs to pee on our track and fields.” Hong Seunghan took hold of the varsity jacket Y/n was just wearing. She needed to disguise herself as someone—not from Iris.
“But you guys had to seriously trick me into doing it?” She groaned. “You’re the one that suggested payback.” Sim Jayun (Yoon) chuckled.
“If you get caught, just pretend they borrowed our starter blocks and we need to get them back.” Haku Shota (Soul) suggested. “Wish me luck, and if I get caught just know I’m gonna hold grudges against you all.” She pointed her fingers to her fellow friends on the varsity team.
She got out of the front seat of Seunghan’s car, then silently walked across the street. In front of her stood a school with a D1 track team, a track team they’ve been head to head with at the championships every year.
At first she was looking for a way easier than just climbing the gate. She walked around for a little trying to find anything that was broken or maybe a lost id. She had felt relief when she had found a lost id, not sure who it was’ until she flipped it around.
“Yang Jungwon,” She read out quietly, “How does he even lose something like this?” Y/n laughed as she stuffed it in the pocket of her sweatpants. She walked back to the entrance of the school, then held the id close to the camera so it didn't catch who’s holding it.
She buzzes the intercom, waiting for it to buzz back, making it known the gate was unlocked. She silently cheered when she heard the familiar buzz.
Y/n walked into the school freely, as if there weren't a million security cameras around every corner. She's never actually been here so it took her a while to find the main room. Walking past the gymnasium, noticing that there was a pep rally going on she knew it would make this dare easy.
As she walked into the main room she started to pull out their dark purple colored flag that had their mascot, a raven displayed. She removed Decelis’ flag that had their fancy logo and the vampire mascot, replacing it with Iris’ flag.
Then making her next move, scattering fake raven feathers around the huge room, making it more known who had done this mess.
Y/n halts for a moment. Hearing a walkie talkie behind a door close to her she tried to run towards the corner of the hallway, but as she did she bumps into someone. Y/n was gonna just push the body and run, but instead she played it off as normal; hugging the teenage boy in front of her.
“Please, cover for me.” Y/n whispers into the boy's ear. Yang Jungwon sighed, then gently pushed her head into the crook of his neck and his hands around the girl’s waist.
Jungwon looks at the staff and mouths a “Sorry.” The staff understands and nods her head, smiling apologetically and turns the other direction.
After she is long gone, Jungwon pulls away from the girl finally getting a good look of the girl he was just hugging.
“Jungwon.” Y/n jumps a little. She was not expecting the boy to be Yang Jungwon, one of her rivals.
“Why are you here, Y/n?” Jungwon asked, he was surprised just as the girl but he was expecting an Iris student to show up sooner or later.
“No reason, we left our blocks here.” Y/n excuses. “I know you’re here to get your ‘get back’.” Jungwon chuckled. “Then why’d you even ask?” Y/n scoffed. “Because I wanted to hear your stupid excuse.”
“But for real, how’d you even get into the school?” Jungwon asked. “With this, you dropped it.” Y/n cheekily smiled as she pulled out the boy’s student id from her pocket. “I bet you were just about to go look for it, weren’t you.” Y/n teased him.
“Yes, I was.” Jungwon glared at the girl, snatching it from her hands. “You should get out of here, don’t want to get caught do you.”
“You are the school president, get me in major trouble if you want , you have the power to do so.” Y/n teased, knowing the boy wouldn’t do something like that. “I do have the power to do so, but we both know I’m not an asshole like that.” Jungwon gently grabbed the girl's arm, leading her back to the gates of the school.
“Tell everyone I say hi,” Jungwon waves to the group of teens in the car across the street. “Tell me what you think of our get back when you see it.” Y/n says excitedly waiting for the boy's response.
“Yeah, Yeah. I’ll let you know—.”
“Jungwonie, make sure you kiss your girlfriend goodbye.” The front desk ladies tease him from the intercom. His face quickly drops mid sentence, face palming.
“Yeah,” Y/n gets closer to the boy, standing on her tippy toes to boldly give the boy a cheek kiss. “Kiss your girlfriend goodbye.” Y/n laughed, teasingly waving goodbye as she ran to Seunghan’s car.
“HOLY SHIT GUYS WHY DID I DO THAT.” Y/n freaks out as she opens the door. Jungwon is still standing at the gates, being able to hear the first part of her sentence and laughing at it.
“What the fuck just happened?” Wonyoung asks, just as freaked out as Y/n. “Did you seriously just cheek kiss, Yang Jungwon? What even happened there?” Yoon asks.
“I did what I had to do and then I almost got caught and ended up running into someone so I just hugged that person and it ended up being him, and now the staff think we’re dating so they teased him on the intercom and I felt silly so I kissed him but like…it was just so I could tease him back y’know?” Y/n spat out words by the second.
“I mean if you had said you wanted to just kiss him then we would’ve understood that more than what you just said.” Eunseok said truthfully, earning a look from Y/n.
“What? I know how you look at him.” Eunseok shrugged his shoulders.
“Eunseok is right, you guys honestly have this weird tension. I see it every time we run into each other.” Yoon agrees, and so does everyone else as they nod their heads.
“Okay, whatever.” Y/n sulks in her seat, she didn’t like hearing the truth sometimes.
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“Hyung, why’d you take so long?” Nishimura Riki asked as Jungwon sat beside the boy. “Yeah, you missed your speech I had to fill in for you, I literally came up with words on the spot.” Myung Jaehyun said, he had just finished the speech that Jungwon was supposed to give.
“I realized I lost my id this morning so I went to go look for it.” Jungwon explained, “Also, Iris got their payback. You’ll see it when the pep rally is over.” He pursed his lips in a awkward smile.
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ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @yenqa @dilrmma @hyukaaa @ilovejungwonandhaechan @jiamini @jwonistic @lovely-yunashane @yongbokified @floweryang @mokangelic @txtbrainrot @drunkhee @lcvclywon @jiawji @skzhoes @theothernads @ahnneyong @erehkinnie30 @dimplewonie @iheartjayke
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strqyr · 2 years
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do you ever just plan fics in your head and eventually coming up with an idea, no matter how big or small, that completely takes over everything else and is the only thing you can think of anymore?
cos i'm there rn
and yes, it's... kind of angsty... this is me after all why wouldn't it be lmao
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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Theodore Nott. | be my first.
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PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader
PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”
WORD COUNT: 5.5k.
TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.
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"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"
Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.
"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"
"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."
Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."
"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."
Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"
You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.
As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."
Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"
"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."
Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.
"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."
Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.
With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."
An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."
Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.
Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."
You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.
In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."
"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."
Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."
Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.
As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.
Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.
"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"
"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."
Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.
A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"
Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."
With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.
"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."
His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.
"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"
With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.
Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.
Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.
You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.
Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.
In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"
"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."
Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.
Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"
He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."
You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.
"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."
"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"
Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."
Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.
"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."
Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."
Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.
"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.
"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."
"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.
Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.
"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."
Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.
Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.
"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"
Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.
Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.
Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.
And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.
The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.
A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.
Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.
"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."
Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"
His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.
The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.
A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.
"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”
Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.
Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.
"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"
"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."
Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."
"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."
Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.
"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."
"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."
Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.
"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."
Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."
Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.
"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"
As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."
Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."
"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."
You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"
Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.
"Fuck me,"  he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."
Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.
Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."
"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."
You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.
"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"
Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.
"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."
His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.
"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"
Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.
"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"
You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."
"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"
You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.
Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.
"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"
You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."
"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"
His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.
Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."
"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."
Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.
"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."
He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.
"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."
Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.
"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."
"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."
Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.
"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"
Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."
Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.
"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.
"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."
Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.
"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"
Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.
"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."
He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.
"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."
Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."
"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."
You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"
"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"
He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.
"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"
His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.
"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”
"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead.  "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."
You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.
"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"
"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."
"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."
You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.
Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.
In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.
"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”
You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."
As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."
Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."
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ssorenz · 1 month
Text
everybody knows that im a good girl officers!
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pairing: . ݁₊ ⊹ .: sukuna ryomen n’ toji fushiguro
synopsis : . ݁₊ ⊹ baking gone wrong! (or maybe right in your case?)
contains: sexual content MDNI, spanking, degradation, full nelson position, double penetration, blah blah blaaaah.. wc: im honestly not even sure
header from: . ݁₊ ⊹: lady k and the sick man
a/n :BABE WAKE UP, DSIIRES FINALLY POSTED 🗣️‼️ but all jokes aside, hii loveliess im back 😊!! i decided to finally post something, and since this was sitting in my drafts, why not post it? i do admit the ending is kind of rushed, so please forgive me🙇🏽‍♀️ but i hope you all enjoy, comments and requests are gladly appreciated! <3
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sweet, sugary, scents of vanilla and cinnamon danced throughout the air as sunlight streamed in through your lace curtains, casting warm, golden hues upon your kitchen countertops.
baking flour dusted your cheeks as a determined glint shined in your eyes, precisely measuring the ingredients for the cake you were baking. it was your best friends birthday, after all. what better way to surprise her than with a home-baked cake?
once the cake pans were safely in the oven, you let out a sigh of relief. this morning had been dedicated to baking, and you were longing for a moment of relaxation. retrieving your cellphone, you settled onto the couch, letting your mind wander as you scrolled away through the screen to pass the time for a few minutes.
but minutes turned into moments, and the once familiar, sweet aroma began to fade away. a faint whiff of something burning wafted into your nose, snapping you out of your current reverie.
panicked, you rushed to the oven, heart pounding in your chest. smoke billowed from the oven, tendrils curling ominously towards the ceiling.
with a gasp, you yanked open the oven door, greeted by a charred mess where your sweets once stood. panicking, you frantically reached for your phone and dialed the fire department.
standing anxiously outside your house, you clutched her phone tightly, desperately awaiting for the distant sound of sirens to signal the arrival of the fire department.
soon enough, the welcoming wail of an approaching engine filled your ears—and within moments, the fire truck came to a brief halt in front of your home. two firefighters emerged from the truck, and as they stepped onto the pavement, their imposing figures caught your attention.
the first firefighter, with a rugged build and striking pinkish hair, exuded confidence as he surveyed the scene. beside him, stood his colleague, tall and commanding with dark black hair, his presence radiating confidence as well as cockiness.
the males strode up to you, their boots echoing against the pavement. the salmon-haired one with distinct facial tattoos— who’s badge read S. RYŌMEN, glared at you with annoyance while his counterpart surveyed the area.
"alright, what's the deal here? we got a call about some sorta emergency, but I'm not seeing any flames. don't tell me we rushed over here for nothin’.” he spoke, his deep voice carrying an air of authority.
the raven-haired officer's— who’s badge read T. FUSHIGURŌ—eyebrows knitted together, his deep, husky, voice tinged with irritation. "are we being pranked here, girl?" he questioned snarkily, his skepticism evident as he glanced around the seemingly ordinary surroundings. however, as you apologized and ushered them inside, their expressions softened slightly, replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.
as they stepped into the kitchen— their boots leaving faint imprints on the linoleum floor— a wave of smoke greeted them, swirling lazily in the air. the acrid smell of burnt pastries hung heavy, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room. ryōmen coughed lightly, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his uniform to cover his nose.
fushigurō sighed heavily as his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of what was once a baking sheet. "well, would you look at that? someone tried playing chef but ended up setting the kitchen on fire," the black-haired officer he muttered, his annoyance palpable in the air as he casually observed the smoke-filled chaos before him.
“i'm so sorry for the false alarm," you apologized, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I was trying to bake a cake and—well—things got a bit…out of hand…”
the pair exchanged glances, then moved swiftly, their practiced efficiency a stark contrast to the mess you had inadvertently created. they quickly ventilated the room, opening windows and turning on fans to dispel the lingering smoke. as they moved, they checked for any remaining embers or hotspots, ensuring that the fire was completely out and that there was no risk of it reigniting.
as the firefighters continued their work, you couldnt help but stare. their tall, bulked figures were much larger compared to your own. the way you could hear their subtle grunts as they finished up their job…
lets just say, your mind definitely started to wander elsewhere..
ryōmen kneeled down and inspected the oven, his brow furrowing deeper. "looks like yer’ cake batter overflowed and caught fire," he remarked, his voice tinged with frustration. "next time, keep an eye on the oven temperature."
yet of course, you werent paying him any attention listening, too deep in the wet daydream that was playing idly in your mind. the pink-haired officer stood up and cleared his throat, “miss?”
you jumped, his voice snapping you out of the “daydream” you were having. you nodded vigorously, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush your cheeks. "i will—i promise. thank you both so much for coming so quickly."
you hurried to your cupboard to get them some water. rummaging through your cabinets, you managed to find a couple of clean glasses, and filled them with cool water from the tap. when you returned, they were just finishing up, their equipment neatly packed away.
"here," you said, offering the glasses. "please, have some water. it's the least i can do."
fushigurō took a glass with a nod of thanks, while his partner accepted the other with a grin. "thanks," he said, "surprised ya’ didnt burn the water this time…”
you couldn't help but chuckle softly, the tension of the situation easing slightly with the joke. "i try my best," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "but m’ really sorry for the trouble. is there any way i can make it up to you both?"you offered, hoping to ease the tension in the room and show your gratitude for their prompt response.
ryōmen glanced at his partner before responding, his expression twisting mischievously.
he placed his glass down as he leaned back on the kitchen table, his tall figure towering over you darkly.
“you said you’re really sorry, hm?” he spoke lowly, his crimson eyes now lowering, gazing onto you.
you nodded eagerly, unsure of what he was implying. “um, well— yes of course-“
the officers lust-laced voice spoke words you doubted you would ever hear…
"then prove it."
so here you were— half-naked in your living room, in a standing full nelson position, sandwiched between the two men that were once standing in your kitchen—now both pounding you silly.
your helpless mewls mixing with the lewd squelches your cunt made filled the empty silence in the room. fushigurō’s long, thickness was so prominent as it kneaded itself against your g-spot, making you fall into a cock-drunk daze.
"that feel good, huh'?", toji muttered, gazing lasciviously into your eyes while supporting your legs high. it was so intimate— but so naughty too, the way he was so filthy..
you nodded in reply, clearly too overstimulated to speak properly. luckily, sukuna was quick to amend your actions—sending a swift, sharp, strike against your ass.
"didn't he ask you a question? say it properly, slut, don't make us waste our breath like you did our time now," he snarled behind you. his strokes were so rugged and mean, much meaner than tojis (which was unsurprisingly fitting for the man), making you whimper breathlessly from the pleasure.
"f-feels s'good tojiiiii—“ you whined out the name in reply, hiccuping. it was true, the way they both grinded against each other, inside of you, leaving you trembling, aching with pleasure. this position requiring them hit harder, deeper, inside of your soaked, throbbing slit— it was too much.
"good fuckin' girl, look at ya'— squeezin' us so tight. yer takin' us so well," fushiguro commented, leaning in for a kiss. his scarred lips passionately met your own, letting out a soft, suppressed groan. he went deeper into the kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth.
his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he continued thrusting into you from the front. meanwhile, his counterpart pounded away at your stuffed cunt relentlessly; each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in both your bodies.
you found yourself lost in this sensual haze of double penetration bliss— moaning uncontrollably into toji’s mouth while feeling your hole being stretched to its limits by these two. your entire world consisted of nothing but the rhythmic movement between your legs and the taste of salty sweat on fushigurō's lips as ryōmen whispered dirty nothings into your ear that only fueled your desire even more.
sukuna’s hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you harder than before, his breathing becoming ragged in your ear with each passing second. toji followed suit by grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up high enough for him to hit a new angle inside of you— sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout every inch of your being.
“filthy whore— paying your debt with—ngh.. dick,” sukuna began, still thrusting into you, but at a much irregular pace now. “who knew such a seemingly innocent thing like you could be so dirty.. starin’ us, shit, up and down like slabs of meat..”
as the intensity of their movements increased, so did the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your body. you felt like you were on the brink of orgasm yourself— and apparently so did ryōmen and fushigurō. both men let out loud grunts, no longer holding back, and began to thrust deeper. it was painfully clear that they were close to reaching their climaxes.
“damn, m’so fuckin’ close— ya gonna let us cum inside? knock up this— fuck, tight ass cunt of yers’?” toji grunted.
"please," you begged between gasps for air, "cum inside me...need it..so badly.” your voice was hoarse from the countless moans and whines that ehshshsh. your whiny, raspy pleas and helpless cries were enough to send both men over the edge. so, with one final push from fushigurō and a deep moan from ryōmen, both men came inside of you simultaneously - painting every crevice with their warming, sticky ropes of essence.
as they both released inside of you, your body was hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced. your cunt clenched tightly around their cocks as they emptied themselves into you, milking every last drop from their swollen, pulsating shafts.
your eyes rolled back into your head— a mixture of pain and ecstasy that left you breathless moments afterward. tears streamed down your face from the sheer intensity of the orgasm that coursed through every inch of your limp body.
the room was silent for a moment as the three of you caught your breath. you could feel their cum slowly dripping out of you as the two men pulled out, leaving behind a sticky mess beneath them.
looking up, toji’s lust-filled stare met your own, a small scar-ridden smirk decorating his face. “that was fuckin’ incredible, god,” he said before ryōmen spoke teasingly behind you..
“but you know, theres better ways to get fucked then damn near burning your house down..”
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tojipie · 1 year
Note
BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you
prison bf series linked here !
content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)
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you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.
the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.
“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.
“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”
to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.
toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.
“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”
you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.
“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.
“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.
“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”
“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.
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you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.
“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”
you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.
“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”
sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.
“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.
“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?
you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.
“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.
“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.
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it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.
jesus. you just want to go to bed.
“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.
“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.
“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.
“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.
you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.
“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.
“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.
“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”
you pause, looking at the ground shyly.
“ok?” he asks.
you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.
“ok.”
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tag list ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies
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dutifulfemininity · 1 month
Note
Hey there👋👋 could you please do whatever love language of the bamboos are ??
LOVE LANGUAGE OF THE BATBOYS
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A/N: terribly sorry I let this request collect dust. My interest in comics fell as life got hectic and whatever the hell. I won't go all Wattpad author on you.
Dick Grayson’s love language is words of affirmation. At the peak of his characterization, he is a man ravenous for praise and attention. A moment of peace, of relief, of sweetness.
Stunted, yet too grown for his own good—simultaneously. He will seek attention, showering you with gifts and compliments in hopes that you reciprocate. Holidays would read like a HallMark movie that would move suburban mothers to tears.
Dick is also the man to send romantic quotes stolen from Pinterest, and the occasional confusing poem of his own hand. His nerves would grind as he read the ‘’seen’’ stamp beneath his text, worried out of his mind that it didn't properly convey his emotions, his love.
“What, no reply yet? If you're that moved, you could always come kiss me.” He'd send the message, playing it off as a joke. But his stomach groaned with the familiar ache, that cold and empty feeling of uncertainty.
What if she doesn't like it? Will she still like me? Would I seem lame if I double texted? Am I bugging her?
The flames of self doubt would spread and eat at his mind until his phone pinged with a,” it's beautiful, babe. A hard read, but the intention was there.” And a flirtatious emoji paired with it.
Thus, the flames of doubt were stomped out, like they never existed. They liked the poem, and he would spend hours rereading it. Marveling and gushing because you liked it. Something he made.
Jason Todd's love language is acts of service. It's a loyalty thing for him.
Gift sharing could be manipulation; soft words could be lies, and he's too self-loathing to believe them anyway. Red Hood swallows his spare time, and his desire for touch swung on a pendulum—one side thirsting for it, the other side uncomfortable.
The thought of returning home to a nice and warm meal would make him melt into a puddle. Or finding his hero suit washed, and his gear cleaned and stored away.
It reignites a flame in his cold eyes, the domesticity calling forth an unclassified emotion that sent goosebumps blazing over his skin like wildfire, calling his arm hairs to attention.
Jason would return the favor. You would awake to find breakfast made, the aroma of bacon and eggs thick in the air, the sweetness of syrup carrying around the house. Scalding tea trickling into a pot, milk and sugar already on the table. Plates washed and set.
Jason would also do laundry and iron clothes. He gets those random bursts of energy (or adrenaline) and cleans the entire house spotless.
Baths would be drawn for you, and if he's feeling lavish, he'll add roses to the bubbles. The finest soaps would lather your skin, scented with the the best smelling perfumes—business was good, and it was a present. His calloused fingers would be overjoyed to massage your scalp (he hoped you'd do his next).
Tim Drake’s love language is quality time. Also, I would like to preface this section by admitting I haven't read much of Tim.
He would help you study. Textbooks adorning the wooden table after hours of quizzing. Coffee steaming in a mug, pens and highlighters scratching at paper. Kisses shared with each right answer.
He'd tease,” Oh, that was a hard one. A trick question.” A smirk, sweet as frosting would tug on his lips, then a warm kiss would swallow yours.” If I were as filthy minded as Jason, maybe I'd crack a joke.”
Tim’s gaze would find you, in the middle of whatever—washing dishes, doing laundry, exercising. They'd burst with amorous passion, like exploding stars, shimmering and twinkling in his irises.
When the sun kisses Gotham goodnight, and the moon assumes it duty, he'd find himself wishing he could be beside you. Not Batman, not Dick, certainly not Damian. That's not proof that he hates his colleagues or that his work is last on the list of priorities. It's just. . . you're higher.
“Hey, love,” he'd speak into the phone, after the voicemail prompted him.” I know you're likely sleep tonight. But I wanted to at least call and tell you to sleep safe and warm. And to save space for me.” A chuckle would roll of his tongue, the wailing of police sirens in the background.
Damian Wayne's love language is also quality time.
Time is precious to him. His mother’s presence was unreliable. He, his father, his siblings tango with dead every silvery night. Each misfortune in his family reminded him of that.
Robin is not what Dick thinks. It's not just bursting into hideouts and knocking the crap out of villains. The peril is real, as well as the potential for failure—and failure in their line of work means death.
Oracle was paralyzed in a second, one wrong move and her nerves were shot. Jason’s life was quite literally put on a clock, killed by time itself. When Damian was an assassin, it merely took seconds to end a life, one of emotion and desires and opinions—gone at the stroke of a blade.
Time matters.
Damian would try to spend all of it with you, doing anything. Attending museums, painting you, listening to your playlists. Finding the child he was depraved of for so long. Being an angsty teenager and loving it.
“This is considered fun?” A dark eyebrow of his would raise teasingly. There you sat, at a sport's game, the roaring crowd trembling the stadium and stabbing his ears. The golden beam of the sun roasting both you, and the overpriced popcorn tossing and gurgling in his stomach.
But, deep down, the liveliness of the crowd intrigued him. Even he'd find himself screaming along with the masses on their feet, yelling out praise or curse words.
Damian's jade irises would slide over to you, the sheer glee decorating your features. A painting. He'd see a masterpiece in you; how that expression would translate onto a canvas.
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toournextadventure · 4 months
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when you love it
Summary: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it - Caitlyn Siehl
Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: swearing, injury mention, suggestive themes, blood mention, hurt no comfort (hopeful ending), extreme guilt Pairing: Wenclair x Vampire!Reader
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“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the charge of murder in the first degree.”
Your fangs caught on your lip as you did your best not to smile. With the slightest turn of your body, you patted your client on the shoulder and congratulated him for getting off on murder. He was guilty as sin. You could practically smell the tainted blood coursing through his veins. It was abysmal; he was a horror to work with. Doubtless he would be murdered before he even left the courthouse.
His money was still just as good as anyone else’s.
The judge continued his usual spiel, the one you personally had heard many times over. Something about understanding the severity of the charges, how one must persevere to become more, to prevent such a situation from occurring again. She was getting much more emotional about the speech, putting more of a motherly spin on it. It was a lovely touch.
It wouldn’t work. But it was lovely.
“Don’t get yourself in too much trouble,” you said once the judge was finished and you could shake your client’s hand.
His smile was sinister. “I’ll be calling on you again.”
You made sure to show your fangs in your own smile. “I’ll be expecting it.”
The man gave you the creeps, more so than most of the clients you represented. Which was precisely why you allowed your shadow to escort him out of the courthouse to the freedom he had unjustly earned. You watched as he left with a smile that betrayed your actual thoughts.
If he called again, your rates would double.
“You did your job masterfully.”
You turned around, watching people continue to mill out of the courtroom. No one was facing you, not even the usual suspects. Even your best friend Detective Faus had already left. There was no one left to talk or discuss the events of the case. A pity.
Maybe it had been another hallucination; they were more frequent this time of year. Sounds of blood spilling, pouring down your throat like the first drink at the bar. The door opening, muffled words, wood splintering. The sounds made themselves known in your mind, drowning out everything else around you.
“Looking for someone in particular?”
No. No, that was no hallucination. You looked down to see a young man no older than 20 - though his spectacular mustache looked a bit old for him - standing beside you. It was no wonder you hadn’t noticed him, he was rather short. With a stunning crop of slicked back raven black hair, he reminded you of someone. Someone you did your best to forget.
“Thank you, mister…,” your voice trailed off.
“Pubert Addams,” he said with a charming smile as he held out his hand toward you. “Lovely to make your acquaintance.”
A wet gasp-
-a snarl-
-relief-
-pain-
“-A pleasure, Mr. Addams,” you said, grasping his hand as gently as you possibly could. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.”
“I believe you knew my sister and her wife in college, did you not?” He asked as he let go of your hand.
A breathy moan-
-airy laughter-
-a warm sigh-
“-Quite a long time ago,” you said, “but yes.”
“Yes, I knew it was you,” he said with a smile that was far too familiar. Eerily so. “Are you free for a short while?” He asked. “I have a proposition for you.”
You sighed and shifted the weight to your good leg. It left an ache that rarely eased, though certainly not for lack of trying. Thanks to the glasses, you were confident your distrust was hidden. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the young Addams boy; he seemed decent enough. You had worked with enough sleazy people to know who to trust and who to be wary of.
There was just the little problem of not wanting anything to do with an Addams.
Though, you supposed you could give the boy the benefit of the doubt. After all, what would it hurt? If he was anything like Wednesday - and it was beyond clear he was - he would love the danger. The thrill of propositioning you would far outweigh the danger of having you near. A brave boy.
Just like his older sister.
“I suppose I have time,” you finally said with a toothy grin. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” he said quickly as he fell into step beside you. Exactly like his sister.
“A coffee then,” you amended.
He had no objections.
His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked out of the courtroom with you. The stench of rancid blood filled your senses before you saw the commotion outside. Your client’s body lay sprawled along the steps, his blood flowing from the tips of his fingers; no one dared try to stop the bleeding. At the bottom, the police were shoving the victim’s brother into their cruiser.
“An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind,” Mr. Addams said with a shake of his head.
You didn’t dare hide your smile. “A beautiful sentiment.” You continued to walk past the scene, not looking back to see if Mr. Addams was following.
His footsteps quickened their pace to match yours before he stood beside you once again. It was a short, silent walk to the little cafe you had started to call your own. The barista was a wonderful young girl; she had easily fallen victim to the vampire charm you did your best not to throw around. Though you were a little less careful nowadays, but that was your little secret.
“What can I get for you, sugar?” The young waitress asked once you sat down. She, too, had fallen victim to your supernatural charm.
“A quad?” You asked once Mr. Addams sat across from you at the little table in the corner.
“Heavens no,” he said with his own charming smile, “I’ll take a mocha, thank you.”
“An espresso, darling,” you said with a smile at the waitress.
Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll have it for you in a moment.”
You tried not to mention your surprise at the young Addams going against what his older sister had made seem like tradition. Or perhaps she had changed over the years; it was a possibility she had come to enjoy the sweeter things in life. After all, Enid certainly did, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She always had been a lovestruck fool for Enid.
So were you.
You promptly ignored the thought.
“What is your proposition, Mr. Addams?” You asked as you continued to wait for your drinks.
“Ah, of course,” he said. He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “I would like to invite you to a soiree we happen to be hosting.”
“I’m nothing but a stranger to you,” you said simply. “What about me warrants an invitation?”
“My sister and her wife still talk of you,” he said. “Incessantly.” His smile was gentle; genuine. “I believe inviting you would make them happy.”
You didn’t grace that thought with a reply. If they still talked of you, that was their issue. Wednesday was certainly psychotic enough to desire your presence. Enid, also, could certainly be delusional enough. Seeing you again should bring them no sense of joy or peace; if anything, it should cause nightmares.
It didn’t matter that you often found yourself thinking of them in return. When you talked with clients who had a penchant for breaking the law, much like Wednesday. Committing their crimes guiltlessly for one reason or another. There was a difference in that Wednesday always had a good reason - even when you tried to make her believe she didn’t - but that could be easily overlooked when her cold brown eyes appeared in your mind.
And Enid was often seen in the young intern at your firm. Possessing a giddiness that was so often lost in people. Her colourful nails that you had been unable to forbid were like a flash of the past. The only difference was those nails were typing away at a computer instead of leaving scratches along your back. It was difficult, on occasion, to differentiate the two.
The waitress set the drinks on the table, giving you a wink and smile in the process. You smiled back, showcasing your fangs as she turned and walked back to the counter. If Mr. Addams hadn’t accompanied you, you would have flirted with the woman. Flashed a bit of cash, invited her home for a quick drink of your own before sending her back on her way.
You stirred your espresso for no good reason. At least it gave you time to think of your answer. Mr. Addams was gracious enough not to push. A wonderful change of pace from Wednesday, who would push until she regretted it. Which she had. Oh, she had, and you had all suffered for it.
There was no way you could tell Mr. Addams why you wanted to decline his invitation. If you even so much as hinted at the carnage you had caused, there was a high probability he would not only rescind his offer, but paint you as the monster you had already claimed for yourself. With good reason, of course, you hadn’t earned the title by sitting around.
On the other hand, just the mere thought of seeing Enid and Wednesday made your dead heart feel alive again. You had done your best to fill your nights with women. One after the other, never keeping them long enough to even learn their names. Each a new attempt to forget the two women who had taken your heart all those years ago. They never filled the hole; if anything, they made it bigger.
Perhaps…
“When is this little soiree of yours taking place?” You asked with a sigh, finally looking up from your espresso.
Now that smile was identical to his sister’s.
“I’ll fetch you the invitation.”
—---
You stood on the balcony of your apartment. Smoke curled around your fingers as the cigarette rested between them. The heat from the lit end was almost unbearable on your skin; it was a welcome feeling. City lights twinkled around you, creating constellations yet unnamed by the human race. Perhaps one day they would be prominent enough to fit in with the constellations of old.
It was the night before the soiree at the Addams residence. You had done your best to remain in control of your emotions the days leading up to it. Hell, you had even gone so far as to hire a few women just a few hours earlier to keep your thirst in check. You would rather receive a stake to the heart than risk another incident like the one that had created this situation in the first place.
And yet, even with all your preparations, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that had carved a home into the center of your chest.
The balcony door slid open.
“You coming back, baby?” The woman asked.
It was a shame you didn’t remember her name.
“Come on, baby,” she said, and you felt warm arms wrap around your waist. “I know you want another drink.”
You did. God you did. Just the thought of another drink left your throat searing. You tried to swallow, but all it did was burn like liquid fire trickling down your throat. With a sigh, you lifted the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled. If you were going to be in pain, you may as well finish off your cigarette.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” you said with an exhale that left smoke falling from your lips.
The warmth left your waist as she went back inside, and you heard her talking to… the… other woman. God, you really needed to learn the names of the people you drank from. If anything, it was the least you could do; it was polite. But you didn’t particularly care. All you knew was they weren’t Enid, and they weren’t Wednesday.
You were pathetic.
You took one more drag of your cigarette, feeling the heat burn the skin on your knuckles. The thick smoke left the taste of ash on your tongue and did nothing to ease the scorching pain in your throat. You dropped the cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it with your heel. You hissed when it singed your heel; you had forgotten you were barefoot.
If you had possessed any sort of soul, you would have felt guilt. There was something tugging on your invisible heart strings, begging you to care about the women you were surrounding yourself with. No, that wasn’t accurate. It wasn’t something tugging at your heart strings; it was two voices that had haunted you for years.
They single handedly ruined your night. With no shame and no clue that they had even done so, they had ruined it. The women around you weren’t the right women. Their skin was soft, but it wasn’t the same. Their freckles were in the wrong spots, and their nails and hair were the wrong colour. Each and every moan was the wrong tone, and these women just weren’t right.
It was a struggle, but by the time the night was over, you had more than gotten your fill. There was no possible way you would still be thirsty by the time you made it to the Addams residence. Though that didn’t stop you from grabbing a blood bag from the fridge and tucking it into your pocket before you left your apartment.
You stopped by the mirror in your hall to make sure you looked alright. It was custom made to not contain any silver, allowing you to see at least a semblance of your reflection. It wasn’t perfect, but it was like looking at someone through water. A little blurry, slightly distorted, but you could tell it was a person.
Your eyes were drawn to the dark scars that weren’t entirely hidden by your shirt collar. The majority of the scars were hidden, but not those. They were a stark contrast on your neck; a stark reminder of your monstrosity. Subconsciously, you lifted your hand to run your fingers over the taut flesh. They still ached.
Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.
You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.
You still wanted more.
You recoiled as if burned. Out of all the times you could have that memory, this wasn’t the optimal day. It didn’t require any consideration before you walked back to the fridge and grabbed a second bag, placing it right beside the first within your jacket. You had one shot; you weren't going to blow it.
It was a beautiful day outside as you approached the Addams mansion. The sky was overcast, almost allowing you to take your glasses off. Not that you would have, but it would have been a nice option to have. Large groups of people made their way up the steps and into the mansion. It truly was a stunning building; you had missed it.
You fell into the back of a group, ensuring you were silent and could walk in unnoticed. Yes, of course someone would notice eventually, but you wanted a chance to settle back into the excessively large house. The smell of the slightly-rotting wood was enough to ease your racing pulse. It smelled like home.
While everyone continued to slowly make their way into the ballroom, you went the opposite direction. Your hand trailed against the walls, maneuvering around each and every item that was hanging. The paintings and knick knacks and more recent looking photos. Some were new, or at least newer than you. They certainly hadn’t been hanging on the wall the last time you had visited.
The idle chatter of the crowd started to fade the further you went.The hallway turned into a slightly larger room filled with framed photos and awards. You let your fingers hover over the nameplates on the awards. Spelling Bee, First Place. A smile tugged at your lips as you moved on. Silver, Figure Skating. Down and down the line, you looked at award after award. There were names underneath, but you didn’t waste your time looking at them.
After the awards were the photos. You picked up the first one with gentle hands; a wedding photo deserved care. It was no surprise to see Wednesday in black and Enid in something so bright it was almost blinding. The image alone had your chest aching. They looked rather happy.
Their happiness didn’t distract you from the scars down the side of Enid’s face. The ones that traveled from the corner of her eyes to her jaw. Based on the colour in the photo, they were freshly healed. You couldn’t see Wednesday’s; she had a black lace wrapped around her wrist. From the look of Enid’s, you could imagine.
You set the frame back down on the table and stepped back. The curiosity had disappeared, quickly replaced with something heavy. With a tight chest, you backed out of the room and made your way to the ballroom with everyone else. The slight limp in your step worsened. A sigh fell from your lips as you had to lean against the wall and reach down to tighten the brace. Your jaw clenched almost painfully as the brace became insufferably tight around your leg, but at least it gave you the ability to stand on your own once again.
Until you were nearly knocked over by children running down the hall.
“Excuse me!” One of them called back. A chorus of the same words were quick to follow as the other children ran after the first.
“Behave!” You froze. “And don’t push people!”
“Yes ma’am!” The children shouted.
If you had known you would have such a visceral reaction just to her voice, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation. You had no idea your body itself would react to her voice. If you could sweat, you would have been. Your fingers twitched. Don’t turn, your mind told you. Begged, even. Desperate, feral, pathetic.
“Cara mia.” You forced yourself to take a step. “You forgot your shawl upstairs.”
Don’t turn around, your mind said. It was frantic. You forced another step. And another. Each one heavier than the last, as if your body was fighting with your mind. You truly were a fool to accept the invitation, and there wasn’t even a word to describe yourself for actually daring to appear. Stupid. That was the best word.
“Are you a vampire?”
You sighed and took a moment to calm your emotions before looking down. One of the children that had been running around was now standing beside you, looking up at you with bright eyes and a cocked head. It reminded you of- no, you wouldn’t think of that. You turned to face the child and shifted your weight to rest on your good leg.
“I am,” you said with a singular nod of your head. “And you are?”
“Oh,” they said with a smile. A large, wolfish smile. “I’m an Addams.”
You were thankful they couldn’t see your eyes. “Charmed.”
Of course they were an Addams. How could you ever think differently? The Addamses were magnets for trouble, and you didn’t have to know the child to deduct that they were, in fact, trouble. You turned away from them and looked back out into the ballroom.
“My mothers have a picture of you on their nightstand,” the child continued.
You wished they would leave.
“But you have scars, and the person in their picture doesn’t.”
You would have no shame in killing a child.
“My momma has scars too.” It would be simple. “They almost match yours.”
“Don’t harass the guests, dear.” 
Or perhaps you would simply kill yourself. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was about to happen. You could hear the echo of your dead heart beating loudly in your ears. Perhaps if you refused to turn around, she would continue walking. Walk right past you and into the crowd, leaving you behind as you so very much deserved.
But she didn’t continue walking as you desperately wished she would. She didn’t move out into the crowd, saying her greetings to the others as was customary. You could barely hear her footsteps at all above the incessant noise that you were wishing would get louder. Drown out all the thoughts and emotions bubbling up inside you.
“We weren’t sure you would come.”
You still refused to turn around. Even when you felt her sidle up next to you, her arm brushing lightly against yours. Oh, her warmth was glorious. You had forgotten just how lovely it was to feel her warming you up. To bring life to your soul in a way that only she was capable of. No amount of women in your bed had ever held a candle to her warmth.
“You look good.” Her voice was impossibly soft against the rising chaos of the soiree.
Growls and screaming echoed in your mind’s ear as you finally made the brave - or stupid - decision to turn your head. If you had thought your anxiety was bad before, you would have been impressed with your anxiety at that moment. The first thing your eyes took notice of were the healed, lightly coloured scars on her jaw.
The scars you had caused.
“You look healthy,” Enid said with a soft smile.
She looked so very grown. That childish glint in her eyes was still present, but she held herself with far more respect. The insecurity had long faded away, much like the scars that continued down her neck. The child was right; you almost matched.
“I fed before arriving,” you said. Your words felt like ash in your mouth. “No need for history to repeat itself.”
“We have more in the kitchen,” she said quickly. “If you need it.”
You opened your coat to show the two bags in the pocket. “I came prepared, thank you.”
She smiled a closed mouth smile and nodded before looking back out at the ballroom. That heavy feeling settled in your chest once again. After so many years, that was all you had to say to her? That you had fed already? Of course, that was probably the one thing she wanted to hear after so long. You were a fool. A damned fool.
“I hope the kids weren’t bothering you,” Enid said. “They get excited when we host gatherings.”
“They seem decent,” you said. Decent?? That’s the best you can come up with? “That one-” you pointed to the one with the bright eyes “-is rather talkative.”
Enid giggled, and for a moment, you felt young again. “Willa says she gets it from me.”
Willa. You could have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. Wednesday had always attempted to claim she hated it. Yet it never stopped the lightest blush on her cheeks when you or Enid would use the unassuming nickname. When was the last time you had even heard it?
Come on, Willa, put it down, I’m being serious.
You turned your body ever so slightly. You didn’t want Enid to see the scars creeping down your neck. Her hand brushed against yours. It was shameful how quickly you pulled your hand back, shoving it into your pocket. No good could come from her feeling the shake of your hand, or the scars that hid below the cloth of your clothes.
“Oh, there she is,” Enid said, this time reaching out to grab your arm a little harder than she probably meant to. “Stay right here, I’ll bring her over!”
The moment she left your side, the cold started to crawl back over your skin. It sunk into every vessel, every inch of your body, both inside and out. Attending the soiree was a mistake. A mistake that you couldn’t take back. Just like that night. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. You could leave before they came back and continue your miserable existence as you had been.
But then you saw them together, hand in hand. It was an unexpected thing to see Wednesday practically smiling at Enid. In public, that was. You couldn’t recall a single time she had smiled at anything in public. Yet there she was, walking closer and showing some semblance of physical affection in public. It was stunning. Your heart was almost beating.
Until your eyes landed on all the black lace that you knew covered scars no one could comprehend.
“I told you I saw them,” you heard Enid say as they both approached where you were frozen in place. “And I was right.”
Wednesday looked up at you with those stunning brown eyes. “So you were.”
Your fingers twitched in your pocket. Now that she was so close, you could smell her blood flowing through her veins. No matter how much you swallowed, you couldn’t ease the burn that was rising up your throat. You clenched your jaw tight, ignoring the sting of your fang piercing your lip.
Wednesday!
You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? “Hello Wednesday, I’m sorry for nearly draining you while you attempted to prove I wasn’t a monster.” Or even to Enid. “I apologise for trying to kill you when you stopped me from killing our girlfriend.” There was nothing you could say, to either of them, to justify what you had done. What you couldn’t forget.
“I told them you had their picture,” the previous child said as they approached along with the rest of the herd.
For the first time, you were thankful for children.
“So you told our secrets?” Wednesday asked. “You know what happens to those who tell our secrets.”
The old Wednesday would have sounded more intimidating and borderline threatening. Yet, even as her words said one thing, the soft look on her face said another. The children all smiled and tried to hide their laughter as they continued to look up at her.
“You’d better run,” Enid whispered.
Each of the children shared a look before running off, laughter following in their wake. It was almost… cute? Adorable, even? God, you needed to escape this place, you were almost turning soft. You needed to get back to your murderers and criminals, this was turning pathetic.
“As intimidating as ever, my love,” Enid said as she leaned down and placed a soft chaste kiss on Wednesday’s cheek.
It made you sick. The burn in your throat spread, turning into a searing pain in your chest and stomach. All that was left was the tingling in your fingers and legs and you were finished. You wished the inferno would swallow you whole, reducing you to nothing more than ash and bone.
“You seem pale,” Wednesday said.
It seemed you wouldn’t combust soon enough.
“I only arrived out of courtesy,” you said as you stood taller. “Now that I have said my hellos, I must say my goodbyes.”
You tried to act like the looks on Enid’s and Wednesday’s faces didn’t kill you inside. It was like a silver stake to the heart, spreading its carnage down every muscle fiber and blood vessel. After all these years, you had managed to hurt them again within only a few moments. And you didn’t even possess the decency to apologise for the first sleight against them.
“Do you have to?” Enid asked. “You could stay.” Her eyes fell. “We could talk.”
“Did Enid tell you we have more blood in the fridge?” Wednesday asked.
She circled her fingers around her lace-covered wrist.
“I don’t do house calls,” you said. You could hear Wednesday’s pulse over the crowd. “Especially with those I cannot pay penance to.”
And yet, you didn’t make a single move. Against your better wishes, your feet stayed glued to the floor. Each beat of Wednesday’s heart was enough to have your mouth salivating, yet you couldn’t leave. A memory popped into your head of Enid almost seeming disappointed that her blood wasn’t appetising to you. It was a fond memory, one you replayed often enough for it to seem like a core memory of your relationship.
“You could stay,” Enid said.
“We can go somewhere quieter,” Wednesday continued.
You didn’t want to go somewhere quiet, you wanted to go home. You internally scoffed at the word; you didn’t live in a home. It was just a building, with four walls and a new blood bag or two every night. You barely lived in it, instead opting to spend all your time in your office where nothing could remind you of the two women standing in front of you.
They were your home.
“Please?” Enid asked softly. Almost too softly. Even with your enhanced hearing you could barely discern the words over the jazz band that had started playing.
You sighed. Would it truly hurt to spend a few moments with them? To give you some semblance of normalcy that only they could provide? After all, you could see the muscles underneath Enid’s skin. If you truly lost control, surely she could stop you. She had stopped you before.
The scars reminded you of it every day.
“Very well,” you said with a slight nod.
Enid was the one to reach out and grab your hand, pulling it out of its pocket and linking her fingers with yours. Her nails dug into the back of your hand, drawing out a sting that was a welcome distraction. The ache in your throat was ever present as Wednesday walked right beside you while Enid led you out of the ballroom.
The hustle and bustle of the ballroom slowly faded into oblivion as you were led down the corridors of the Addams mansion. You could recall memories from each room you passed. Each with their own story to tell. Stories of stolen kisses, scandalous rendezvous, silent moments with the women you loved, but together and separate.
When Enid stopped in the kitchen, you would have laughed had it been under any other circumstance. It was clear they had the same thoughts on their minds when Enid sat you down and Wednesday retrieved a blood bag from the fridge. She placed it between you and her when she sat opposite you at the table.
How comical.
They both stared at you with unwavering gazes. What was going through their minds, you wondered. Were they feeling the same way you had? Broken, anxious about fucking up, convinced you had blown your chance? Or perhaps they were waiting for you to break and recreate what had happened on that fated night all those years ago.
You sighed when you deduced they wouldn’t speak first.
“You both look well,” you said in a croaky voice that, if they were wise, was indicative of the state of your instincts. Think of something else to say. “Are all those children yours?”
Think of something less ridiculous.
“Yes they are,” Wednesday said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was almost condescending; you loved it.
“Pubert said you’re a lawyer?” Enid asked.
“Defence attorney,” you said with a nod, “yes.”
“Is it, ah, fun?” She asked.
You sighed. If the entire night was going to go along those lines - awkward and uncomfortable, tip toeing around every word - you would rather leave. Not a single positive thing could come from such a conversation. It was talking for talking sake. You all hated small talk, that was something that you knew had never changed, yet there you were, struggling to find any sort of conversation.
“It’s acceptable,” you said before placing both palms on the table. “I believe I really should be getting on.”
You attempted to push yourself up from the seat. Attempted being the key word. It wasn’t often your bad knee would buckle when standing; usually reserved for long nights in your office where you had barely managed to take bathroom breaks. Yet when you pushed yourself up, you felt the strain in your knee. It was a familiar feeling, that weakness before a painful tightness that so often forced you back into your seat.
And it did. Your grip on the table meant nothing as your knee shook for a nanosecond before giving out underneath you. Thankfully the gasp never actually left your lips. You could taste the copper in your mouth as you bit your tongue in an effort to stay silent. In the end, your entire leg trembled.
Enid and Wednesday stood up quickly, knocking their chairs back and watching your every move. You wished they would come to you; you were glad they didn’t. The looks on their faces was terrifying enough. Identical looks to the ones they had had that night.
“Wednesday, put it down,” you said when she refused to remove the knife from her hand.
“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
She had barely broken the skin before the scent hit you. It had been months since you had fed, and she had broken the floodgates. Everything about her disappeared except for the small drop of blood pooling at the bottom of her hand.
You didn’t feel yourself practically jumping toward her. You didn’t hear her gasp when you ripped the knife from her hand. You didn’t see the look on her face as you licked up the blood on her palm, or when you moved up her hand to bite the pulse point on her wrist.
But you tasted the nectar that flowed through her veins. You felt the strong pulse beneath your lips. You felt the scorching hot blood falling down your chin before you simply couldn’t keep up with the flow. Something vaguely pushed against your neck, but it was little more than a nuisance. All you knew was the blood in your mouth and the warmth on your lips.
Vaguely, you heard something. A scream, a growl, something breaking, you couldn’t tell the difference. It was nothing compared to the relief you were getting. How could you care about something in the outside world when you had such a delicious-
-something solid slammed into your body. The skin underneath your lips vanished, replaced by the cold air around you. When your body stopped rolling, you could feel the aches already starting to form. It didn’t matter. You zeroed in on Wednesday’s wrist again.
You were met with what felt like a truck slamming into your leg. Bones cracked, stretching the tendons and muscles with the new direction they were facing. It wouldn’t hold any weight when you tried to stand up. No matter; that was why you had two legs.
Something large and furry stepped in between you and Wednesday. Nothing about it was familiar in that moment. Instinct told you it was nothing but an obstacle in the way of your feed. It charged, and you swiped. Your fingers clipped something even as you felt its claws rake across your skin.
You tried to stand. Something sharp crossed your chest; the air was cold on your skin. When you stood up again, it was met with similar results. The third attempt got you closer to Wednesday. When something sharp clasped around your shoulder and threw you back to the ground, you stilled.
That hot blood you had gorged yourself on started to feel hot on your neck. Not in it, on it. You opened your mouth to speak and felt the liquid spew from your lips, falling down your face in all directions. Your hand lifted to the side of your neck. Your fingers pushed past the skin and then-exposed muscle.
As you pushed harder on the wounds, doing your best to staunch the flow of blood, the world started to come back to you. Blackness peeled back from your vision. The blurry world started to come into focus along with the sounds that you could finally discern as gasps and growls.
So did the pain.
You were drowning in the blood you had stolen. Your head lolled to the side even as you coughed again, spewing blood into the air like some demented fountain. A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded in places.
Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.
You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.
You released the pressure from your neck and felt the blood continue to fall.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Something wet fell down your cheeks.
“I know,” Wednesday answered just as softly. It was humiliating.
It was lovely.
“Please stay,” Enid said. You looked down to see her reach her hand across the table.
You shouldn’t. You had nearly killed them, had gone into a frenzy that you hadn’t experienced ever again. What if it happened again with them? After all those years, you still loved them. You would never admit to anyone, but you kept their photos on your desk at work. You couldn’t risk hurting them again. Couldn’t risk killing them. You were a monster, and that fact alone was never going to change.
They looked at you expectantly.
For when is a monster not a monster?
You reached forward and placed your hand on top of Enid’s.
Oh, when you love it.
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achaoticeternal · 1 year
Text
bewitched.
AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER
summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice.  word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
choose your own ending...
— ending 1.
— ending 2.
— ending 3.
— ending 4.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”
“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.
“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”
Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit. 
“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.
At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp.  The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire. 
Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky. 
As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug. 
The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.  
Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:
She is with child. 
Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields. 
But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies. 
It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal. 
The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.
It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed. 
“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed. 
“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you. 
Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”
You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”
Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.
The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife. 
With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”
The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience. 
“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again. 
Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment. 
“Your husband demands—”
“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”
At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”
“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”
At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors. 
“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”
“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”
Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”
“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”
“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”
Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger. 
“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”
“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.
“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”
“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”
A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”
His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.
“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”
“What would you have me do?”
You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.
“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”
“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.
“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”
“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...
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lenoraah · 10 months
Text
𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦
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pairing - oscar piastri x wife!reader
summary - reader and oscar have been married since they were eighteen and while they both have different career paths they both belong in the F1 industry. reader and her best friend are host for most driver interviews and are also change-makers in the industry. during a race when the two are interviewing the McLaren drivers, an American Williams driver and her best friend decides it the right time to celebrate Oscar and reader’s anniversary
a/n - i kind of came with this while looking at the queen’s (Vivienne Westwood) vintage dresses. also the Mini Bas Relief Pearl choker is so freaking chic. also the reader’s best friend’s name is Lizette and I feel like her and Lando are best friends from like, his karting days so they have like a teasing yet flirty relationship and no they’re not dating but at the same time Lizette and Logan have a plot planning and detective like friendship (idk it felt right)
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Here we are at the McLaren garage where the two drivers are cooling down from the race.”
“So, Lando how are you feeling?”
Lando has this shit eating grin on his face as Lizette holds the microphone to his face. The raven haired girl gives a gentle and teasing eye roll as Lando places his hands on his hips and gives her a sassy look.
“Uh, like a winner.”
“Are you giving us some of that Scorpio sass?” Y/n asks, quickly switches the microphone from her to Lando.
Lando makes a face which makes both Lizette and Y/n laugh.
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Well, first of all we just want to say congratulations on your podium. You must be very happy, any thoughts you would like to share as you bask in your happiness?” Y/n asks as Lizette copies Lando’s pose with her hands on her hand on her hips.
“Uh, I all I remember is how Lizzy and I made a bet last post-race interview that I could have her sunglasses if I got a podium this weekend.” Lando smirks as he takes Lizette’s baby blue rimmed sunglasses off her head.
The blue eyed girl dramatically gasps and her jaw drops open sarcastically. Lando puts them on and does his best impression of Lizette.
“This is Lizette von Ascheberg and I’m here with Lando Norris. Lando, how you do you feel post-race?” Lando does his best high pitched voice and shoves the microphone in Lizette’s face.
“I think that you should give the microphone back to me because, well, Lizette to be real with you this is currently being live streamed to viewers all across the world.” Lizzie smiles and grips the microphone from Lando.
Lando nods and makes a face before handing Lizette the microphone who hands it to Y/n.
“Right, so back to the interview. How are you feeling?”
“I feel great. I feel like celebrating. And I also feel really sticky from all the champagne.” The Brit places two fingers on the sleeve of his race suit that is tied around his waist and takes a moment to remove his pointer finger as representation that the sweet alcohol has dried into his suit.
“That is a prove that you have a podium today though,”
“You’re not wrong,”
A quick tap on Lando’s back makes him turn around and smile once again.
“Congratulations mate,”
“Thanks, great race today.”
The two McLaren drivers share a short hug and the cameras around them definitely eat it up.
“Here is Oscar Piastri and how you feeling after the race Oscar?” Lizette wastes no time in shoving Y/n out of the way and taking the microphone from her hands, silently motioning to the Williams driver to move in action.
“Well it’s nice to see you again after last race Liz,” Lie. He had just seen her yesterday night when Liz and Y/n decided that it was a good idea to finish the latest episode of The Summer I Turned Pretty while they talked about a bunch girl stuff that Oscar really wished he hadn’t heard in the couple’s hotel room.
“I consider it a really good race for the McLaren team. Both of us finished with no penalties or any major losses of time during pit stop.” Oscar nods along to his words and Lizette nods with him as if she really cared in the moment when she was trying to give Logan a signal.
When the American driver gives Lizzy a thumbs up, she hands Y/n the microphone and shoves her next to Oscar.
“Okay, okay, Y/n/n do you have anything to say?”
“Right, thanks Liz.” Y/n doesn’t hesitate to give her best friend a weird look as she gets moved into place. “Well, it must be fate because today is also an important day as it is-“
“Your fucking fourth anniversary!”
Lizette holds a sign that yells Mr and Mrs Piastri in bright glitter lettering while Logan holds one that says Happy Anniversary, Shawty!.
“I was going to say the last race before the championship race.”
“What about our talks about announcing our marriage when we had the time?”
“Well you guys were taking forever so your best friends had to step in and help.”
“Yeah, that talk was like two years ago. Like hello? Perfect opportunity much?”
Oscar and Y/n are left speechless as everyone around them start to panic and congratulate them. Cameras flash, the crowd yells and cheers, the drivers near the McLaren garage start to question and congratulate the couple while Logan and Lizette stand there high-fiving each other and grinning.
“Well? Thanks guys?” Y/n shrugs an Lizette pulls her into a hug.
“Of course! Now the real question is when are you going to have kids because I need someone to be the rich aunt to.”
“Keep dreaming for a couple for years,” Oscar replies immediately earning a smack on the back of his head from Y/n.
“Yeah, yeah okay whatever. Can we get a picture?” Logan nods and grabs Lizzy’s sign from her hand and places both of them on the ground next to him.
The four of them laugh and the photographers snap photos that they can already imagine the headlines to that will be plaster everywhere in the morning.
“Is that going on the family fridge too?” Lizzie asks Logan teasingly and he plays along nodding his head.
The two friends play around as Oscar and Y/n are left alone in their moment. Well at least that pretend they are as people are still yelling and cheering and cameras are still going off.
He has his hands around her waist and she has her arms wrapped around his neck, their foreheads leaning against each other’s.
“I love you,”
“I love you more,”
“Impossible Piastri,”
The two share a kiss and bask in their own quick moment of happiness. Somehow the cheering gets louder and it is pretty obvious that Lizette and Logan are their biggest fans.
“What? You’re what? Four whole years? What?”
“Guys I think we broke Lando.”
Oops.
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satorusugurugurl · 2 months
Note
can we please get something about satoru x reader x suguru 🤲🏻💖
i would absolutely love a third part
and fourth
and fifth 👀
Reversal!
Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, FAB!Reader
Warning: Language, smut, Reader is fuckin pissed, sitting on face, body worship
Word Count: 1,597
A/N: I received this request and a suggestion for the reader being mad. I merged the two! As for other parts, I’m so down. Send me suggestions! 😈💚
Part One Part Two
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It wasn’t very often that you were sent off on a mission alone. Usually, you were stuck in Tokyo handling curses here while your partners were sent off overseas. So imagine your surprise when Yaga and the higher-ups sent you overseas to London.
You had been ecstatic!
You were looking forward to seeing sights you’d never seen before. The wonder and woe wore off the second you stepped off the plane. You were ushered off to a tiny rural village, where not one, not two, but seven curses had been spotted. It took you a damn week to exorcize all of them. You could have finished it sooner if the stupid locals stopped getting in your way.
When you finally made it home, you were irritated, exhausted, and needed stress relief. Stress relief that involved your two boyfriends and their skillful tongues and appendages. They had no idea what was in store for them as you unlocked the door.
Satoru was happily eating a cookie when the front door nearly came off its hinges just as he passed it. He choked, raising his hand to defend himself with Hollow Purple, only to see you throwing your shoes off with a dark expression washed over your pretty face.
“Oh, my fuck!” He gasped out, coughing as cookie crumbs choked him. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of my sweetheart!” When you said nothing, Satoru tilted his head, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes, the ashy tone of Your skin, and how you gritted your teeth as you threw your suitcase to the side. “Rough week?”
No words were said as you grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “Shut the fuck up.” You snarked like a lioness on the prowl.
Satoru gulped as he was yanked down the hall towards Suguru’s room. When you reached The slightly cracked door, you kicked it in, causing the raven-haired man to jump. His eyes darted from his book to the doorway, where he found your exhausted, angry features and Satoru’s terrified face.
What had they forgotten to do when you were gone? Laundry? No, that was done. Messy house? No, the duo was always neat. Dinner wasn't made? That couldn't be it; you had told them you wanted takeout before boarding the plane home. Not knowing what was going through your beautiful mind made you ten times scarier.
Several seconds passed as scenarios crossed his mind before Suguru cleared his throat. He placed his book down on the nightstand, striding towards you with a cocked eyebrow. His movements were slow and full of caution as he approached you like you were a wild beast.
“Princess? You okay?”
You moved at lightning speed, releasing Satoru before you shoved Suguru back onto the bed. He didn’t say a word as he watched you take off your panties before bunching your skirt up to your hips. Before he knew it, you were yanking down his sweats as you onto the bed. Satoru watched in horny shock as you straddled Suguru’s face and bent down over him to stroke his best friend's cock.
“Toru, get the fuck behind me, and fuck me.” You barked out as if he was supposed to know what to do.
“R-Right!” He stripped out of his clothes as Suguru groaned underneath you. His tongue wasted no time, darting out and licking at your damp folds as you took his cock into your mouth, sucking it gently. “I guess it was a rough week.”
You wanted to snap back at Satoru, but how could you when Suguru was licking your clit like it was candy. You gasped, leaning forward, taking his cock into your mouth with a hungry groan. Satoru was half tempted to sit back and watch his two sexy partners sixty-nine, but the image of your furious face had him moving despite his desires.
The feeling of Suguru’s hot wet tongue flattening and lapping over your clit, to feeling Satoru’s cock stretch you open had you gasping around Suguru’s cock, your eyes fluttering as they rolled back at the sensation. It was so good, your clit being stimulated while your pussy was being stuffed. It was like worlds were colliding; a cosmic event was taking place between your legs, and your pussy was crying happy tears.
The warmth of your mouth and hearing the grunts from Satoru had Suguru’s cock throbbing in your mouth. The stimulation was great, but having you take control, making them do what you wanted, it was just as good as them taking out their frustrations on you. Maybe he needed to talk to Yaga about sending you out more often. Oh god, what if they sent you and Satoru out together, or you and him? The possibilities were endless.
Possibilities that had Suguru furrowing his brows as he hungrily licked and sucked at your clit. If you needed them this bad, by god, he’d give you everything you fucking wanted. You wanted to cum on his face. He’d make that happen! Once you finished, if you wanted more, he’d give you more. Suguru grabbed the top of your thighs, slamming you down directly on his tongue, devouring you.
Suguru’s sudden action had Satoru wincing, his faltering as you tightened around his cock. Your walls pulsated and clenched around him. Fuck, how the fuck were you so wet but still so goddamn tight?! He felt like you were going to squeeze his cock off of the three of you and kept going at this pace. Suguru was eating you out while you gagged around his cock. The sight was better than any porn he’d ever seen. And he was fucking loving in it!
“Fuuuck~!!” Satoru threw his head back, hips jerking forward faster. “Oooh god fuck me, t-this is so hot.”
“Mmmph~ mmhm!” Suguru moaned in agreement from underneath you, sending vibrations dancing through your clit.
You gagged on Suguru’s cock pulling back enough to breathe. “If it feels that fucking good, shut up and keep going!” You shouted, sending a glare with no heat in Satoru’s direction. He didn’t freeze up under your harsh words; no, instead, he groaned as his cock twitched inside of you, his hips moving as you instructed him to do so.
His pace picked up as you went back to sucking on Suguru’s fat cock, deep-throating him with a moan as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Already, you were feeling your orgasm tightening in your belly. Satoru could feel it, too, from the way you clenched down on his cock, your gummy walls pulsating.
Satoru wasn’t the only one to notice. Your dark-haired boyfriend picked up on the telltale signs of you being close as well. Your clit twitched, and your moans grew louder, buzzing around his cock as you gagged on him. Knowing precisely what you needed, Suguru sealed his lips around your sensitive bud, sending your eyes shooting wide. Satoru picked up the pace of his thrusts.
The buzzing hum in your head wasn’t from being buzzed off alcohol. No, it was from being buzzed off of your partners. They worked in tandem with each other between Satoru’s thrust and Suguru’s insatiable skills with his tongue. You cried out, toes churching back, arching as they worked you to the brink of your orgasm.
“That’s right, sweetheart~ we got you~ cum~” Satoru growled against your shoulder as he kissed your skin. His words drew you closer, but Suguru sent you over the edge. He was moaning, growling around your clit as his balls clenched, his cum sliding down your throat. All the while, he moved his head back and forth as fast as he could, pulling you over the edge with him.
The orgasm that ripped through you had you rock back against Satoru and over Suguru’s still-working mouth. Satoru’s dick repetitively hits your g-spot over and over, making you squirt around him and all over Suguru’s face. While Suguru hummed in approval lapping up all of the juices he could, Satoru fucks you deeper and harder as his orgasm hits him. He fucked his load deep inside of your tight cunt, making you cry out as you pulled off of Suguru.
“O-Oooh~ oh fuck yes~!” You palm your breasts as your boyfriends gasp and pant, the three of you slowly coming down from your highs.
Once Satoru is positive he’s milked himself completely inside of you, he pulls his sensitive cock out of you, allowing you to get off Suguru, collapsing in the bed next to him. Satoru smirks, chuckling roughly as he stares down at Suguru’s fucked out expression, his perfectly beautiful face shimmering with your cum. Blue eyes dart towards you, panting just as heavily, looking a million times happier than when you first came home.
“N-Now I—“ you gasped, “I get it.”
Suguru turned his head towards your voice, “Get what, Princess?” He groaned. He was rolling into his stomach to watch you.
“Why your guys fuck the life out of me after a long mission.” Their smiles are palpable as you hum happily, pulling them both to either side of you. They oblige, Satoru resting his head over your breasts while Suguru buries his face into the crook of your neck. “That was fucking great, let go again.”
Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru were beginning to wonder if you going out on missions like them would be for the best. You were fucking unfathomable hot when you took control, but they also know how passionate you were. They could only pray their cocks would survive the night to come.
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constantmourning · 10 months
Text
Stress Relief
[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]
Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!
Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)
A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.
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It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.
You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.
Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.
"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.
Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.
So, you started sleeping with Price.
Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.
This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.
"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."
"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."
You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.
When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"
"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.
They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"
Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.
The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.
"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...
"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."
Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.
"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.
You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.
Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.
They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.
They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.
You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.
Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.
The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.
You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.
Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...
At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.
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writingjourney · 6 months
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Better Than Your Hands | Terzo x f!Reader
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You try not to wake your Papa when you come home but he's ever so perceptive as to what you're up to.
Content: 1.1k words, f!reader, smut (mild dom!terzo, caught masturbating, biting, teasing, p in v, light manhandling, unprotected, coming inside) 18+, MDNI
In a shocking twist of events I wrote my first Terzo smut, more as a practice than to share it but I was convinced by my friends. This is for @leezlelatch ♡
Masterlist – Ao3 link
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The room is draped in deep shadows. A sliver of pale moonlight falls onto the sleeping man’s face, bare and soft without the edges of his paints, framed by his unkempt raven hair with silver streaks. He looks so peaceful like this, the reading glasses and his book safely resting on the nightstand. He sleeps in the same pose as always – on his back with one hand spread in the direction of your pillow. Only tonight his arms have nothing to curl around. 
For a moment you wish you would have come home earlier to see him reading. To have him read to you in Italian like most nights with your head on his pillowy chest. You have settled into a slower life these days and yet it is rare to see him so utterly relaxed. You’ve been wanting him all day, needing him, craving him, but you cannot bring yourself to wake him up so selfishly. 
Instead you tiptoe to the bathroom, tiptoe to your closet to find one of his shirts and then tiptoe over to your bed. You’re tired when you soundlessly slip beneath the blankets, exhausted after working so late tonight. You could fall asleep instantly, follow him into this peaceful state, if it weren’t for the persistent throbbing between your thighs.
You roll to your side, facing away from the sleeping man next to you. Your hand slides down your body, no time for gentle caresses as you shove it underneath the waistband of your panties. A soft sigh leaves your lips when you feel the wetness between your legs and you run your fingers through your folds, teasing your clit with every motion. As the friction finally provides some relief, your head falls back into the pillow. You start to rub slow but intense circles, heat slowly spreading in your body. It’s quick and messy but you think you can–
The mattress dips beneath you, a silent, unexpected quake that brings you to a stop as you try to make out any sounds that indicate whether he woke up or not. Before you can turn around a hand much broader than your own slides between your legs, cupping your own, and the strong forearm it’s attached to keeps you still.
“What do you think you are doing here, bella?” he purrs.
You shift uncomfortably, your cheeks heating up. “You were asleep when I got home.”
“Amore, you know you can always wake your Papa when you need him, eh?”
His second arm snakes underneath your body like a serpent, a firm hand spreading over your belly before he pulls you across the mattress and flush against him. One knee pushes between your legs until his thigh is pressed tightly against your wet cunt.
“Do you think I could ever be too tired to fuck you?” he asks. 
Encased by his warm body with his voice deep and his breath hot against your ear the only sound you can produce is a moan. Terzo pulls at your panties, pushing them down to your knees until he can line himself up from behind. His cock is already hard, like the mere sight of you pleasing yourself was enough to have him ready for you.
“Oh amore, not even the most vicious storm could keep me from you.” He pushes inside with a grunt, the tip of his cock sliding along your inner walls just so. “N-not even the most biblical of catastrophes.” Another inch, a slow, shallow roll of his hips. “No flood, no thunder, n-no hurricane.” He pulls back, then fills you up with one sharp thrust. “Not even Death himself.”
You keen, uselessly grabbing at the sheets. Terzo’s hand shoots up to grab your chin, angling it towards his mouth.
“Do you understand?” 
You nod as best as you can. His fingers dig into your jaw a little more tightly to keep it still. Words. “Yes, Papa.”
A soft kiss to your cheek. “Brava ragazza. Now I will show you what you almost missed.”
He rolls his hips again, letting go of your head to grab your thigh and use it for leverage. His pace picks up as he begins to fuck you, deep and precise thrusts that fill your whole body with pleasure. His own grunts echo in the quiet around you, intermingling with your desperate moans and whimpers.
“Did you think of me all day, bella?” he teases, slowing down as he rubs his nose along your shoulders. “Were you so desperate to have me that you couldn’t go to sleep without touching that sweet little pussy?”
You nod desperately, so fast your head bumps against his jaw.
“Words,” Terzo warns. “Tell your Papa how much you wanted him.”
“I wanted you all day,” you admit, squirming in his hold. “Thought about you in every meeting, even the one with Sister.”
You can feel him grinning against your shoulder blade before he gently bites the tender skin above. Still, he isn’t moving any faster, only gives you these slow, languid thrusts that drive you wild. Impatiently, you push back against him, fucking yourself against his cock, and his initial moan quickly turns into a distorted growl. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your hips before he loses his patience. With one swift roll he has you on your belly, teeth still stuck in your shoulder as he drives himself into you from behind again and again. Your cries are muffled by the pillow and the new angle brings you close to the edge within seconds. You can feel him so deep inside of you, his whole body weighing you down until all you can focus on is the heat in your lower belly. 
Terzo pushes his hand back between your bodies, leaning heavily on his other arm, and he hardly grazes your clit before you spasm around him. He groans when he feels you tightening, the orgasm a heavy crash of pleasure and relief. Terzo’s rhythm falters when he follows you, rolling his hips a few more times until he curses under his breath and eventually stills. His hair falls into his face until you can feel it tickling the skin of your neck and shoulder, all while his cock empties inside of you.
With two more lazy thrusts he prolongs both of your pleasure, fucking his come deeper into you while your body goes limp underneath him. He inhales sharply, humming against your ear before he pulls you both back onto your sides. His lips leave a soft trail of kisses over the bite on your shoulder, then up your neck until he can reach your jaw.
“Better than your hands, amore, hm?” he teases as his arms wrap tightly around you again.
You lean into his embrace, content and happy. “So much better.”
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Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list
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orshii · 3 months
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Tempted (our little secret)
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Author: orshii
Pairing: Choi San x female reader
Word count: 3,2 k
Summary: You were secretly with San, but you weren’t in a relationship, as you didn’t want your friends to know. But slowly the two of you get tired of the constant hiding and confusing emotions.
Will you be able to make the next big step?
A/N: Hii! Soo...San drives me crazy recently, so I had to write this...something ig? Like just bfr why is he so perfect?! Okay, enough of me, enjoy this little drabble! sorry if there are mistakes, ty for reading, xoxo, orshii! (divider)
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I was sitting in a black Uber with the girls, on our way to celebrate Yunho's birthday party, which was a surprise for him, organized by his girlfriend, who was my best friend. She was so excited the whole week, as everything needed to be in its place, annoying me the whole time, as Yunho can't find out no matter what. She was really determined to organize this little get-together with our friends' circle.
As I was sitting in the car, I got excited too because we haven't been together for at least a month. I missed being with my friends, as everyone was occupied by their own life, work taking most of our time. This little friend group of ours started in college, as my best friend got together with Yunho with a lot of ups and downs, they both being very obvious but blind. So, when they finally got together, Yunho's friend group and ours started to go out a lot of times, organizing a lot of random trips into the mountains, going on holidays together. As we graduated, luckily, our friend group stayed the same, but with less hanging out. I felt some kind of relief as we were heading to the fancy restaurant, where my best friend reserved tables.
We stepped out from the Uber after paying the driver and thanking him for the ride. The sun already went down, leaving behind nothing but the lights of the city, which came to life with the people going out to party or just to have some fun in the city, as the weather was very nice, the beginning of summer swinging in the chill air.
I pulled down a little the black tight dress I was wearing, as it was a little short, and adjusted the gift I bought for Yunho, as I couldn't come empty-handed, and we went into the restaurant, which was all luxurious and fancy, black being the main color of the area, with a spark of gold. It really screamed rich vibes. I had no idea how my best friend managed to reserve a table for ten people in this place, but I guess she had her own ways for that. At the entrance, a lady waited for us with a bright fake smile, as we told her that we had a reservation. She showed the way towards the said table; some of the guys were already there, but Yunho and my best friend weren't yet, as I assumed they were coming when supposedly everyone was here. The table was already set, some candles and little sparkling decorations were on it. It looked very inviting; I'm sure Yunho is going to like it.
As I sat down, next to the girls, I made eye contact with him. He was glaring at me with his sharp eyes, taking me in, up and down, as a little smile appeared on his lips, his dimples showing. He was wearing a white elegant shirt, with two buttons undone, his sharp collarbones on the sight and a chain-like necklace around his neck, that almost reached his collarbones. His raven-black hair wiped back, only a few stripes falling into his forehead. I greeted the others as I immediately averted my eyes off of him. I didn't want to be suspicious. We started to chat with the girls, trying to catch up on the things we missed in each other's lives, some old wines appearing on the table, brought by the waiter, whom I made eye contact a few times; he was cute and handsome. I felt two sharp glares on me from time to time, but I just didn't mind him. I came here to have fun.
After a while, finally, Yunho and my best friend came, Yunho had a blindfold on his eyes, so he couldn't see us, and when they came to the table, he took off the blindfold and we started clapping and singing for him. I felt happy as everyone was smiling at Yunho, and him being so surprised and emotional because of the sweet surprise. He leaned towards my best friend and pecked her lips, with the sweetest and happiest smile, as their foreheads touched and they whispered something to each other, probably Yunho thanking his beautiful girlfriend for organizing all of this. I was so happy seeing them like this, it made my heart melt, as I saw how deeply in love, they were with each other. That's what I wished for all my life, as it didn't really come, yet. I was confused all my life, of when love will come into my life, will it eventually come?
I was still confused as we finally sat down, and I made eye contact with San, who was a really special person in my life. We weren't together, but we weren't total strangers to each other. The thing is, we kind of had a thing going on between the two of us; we just didn’t really know what it was. We still needed to figure it out, so we decided not to tell our friends until we somehow figured it out on our own, not letting others interrupt our feelings. Because I'm sure there were feelings, some feelings I couldn't put anywhere. That was sure, I never felt like this towards anyone, but I wasn't exactly sure if it was only a tidal wave. And I wasn't sure if San felt the same way, or if he even felt something.
The ominous dramatic night when he kind of confessed to me in the rain still made my heart melt, as we had a brutal fight before that, and we were yelling at each other, but it was because of some childish things. We were yelling at each other in the pouring rain, just until he grabbed my hands and yanked me towards him and told me the sweetest things, he could ever say to me. And suddenly I was lost in the tide of emotions, fear being my biggest enemy as I didn't know if it was a good thing being with him. But I couldn't really think a lot because he suddenly pressed his lips against my wet lips, and we were just standing in the rain, soaked, taking in the other’s lips like we could never imagine. His wet lips moving against mine, I could taste the raindrops on his lips, which kind of tasted sweet, as everything that connected me with San always tasted sweet like honey. When we separated, he promised me, he is going to protect me from the world, no matter what. From then, we were hanging out, he took me to special places, we made out a lot, we even slept together. We had times when we were with our friends and we secretly kissed each other, hiding behind trees, going out to the bathroom, him coming after me, almost getting caught in the heated moments by our friends. We did this for months and I kind of started to get enough of this hiding. But the thing is, I felt like it was only a friends with benefits kind of relationship. We didn't really speak about ourselves when we were together; it felt strange as it was supposed to drive us towards a real relationship, but sometimes it felt awkward, and sometimes it felt like the most natural thing ever, just being with him, and not exactly speaking, just being in each other's presence. I really wanted it to be something more serious between us, but I didn’t really see the signs that it could happen anytime.
Being in the present time, I tried to have fun and talk with my friends a lot, I missed them and felt nice being with them and pretending we were again in college, not having any adult problems in our lives. After some drinking and eating, Yunho's birthday cake was brought to the table with big candles and sparklers on it. Yunho looked sincerely happy and my best friend looked at him, with loving eyes, as Yunho closed his eyes to wish something and blew out the candles.
My eyes eventually found San's again, as they couldn't be apart from each other for a long time, I tried to avoid his gaze all night, but it wasn't easy, as I felt his sharp eyes on me all the time. He glared at me and tilted his head very slowly, nodding towards the bathroom. My heart started to race quickly to that as I slowly slid my chair back and excused myself to the bathroom.
When I reached the ladies bathroom, no one was here, so I just stood right in front of the mirror to check if my lip-gloss was smudged from eating. Then I heard the door opening, a few quiet footsteps, and I felt two warm hands around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest, as he was glaring at me through the mirror in front of us. His dark cherry scent hugged me around, like it never wanted me to escape. He slowly nuzzled his nose into the side of my neck, following the line of my veins, as I tilted it so he had better access to it, still glaring at me through the mirror.
"God, I missed your smell." His low voice sent goosebumps around my body, as he smelled my neck, pulling me closer by my waist, as he couldn't get enough of me. He started to kiss the line of my neck up to my ear and slowly biting my earlobe, I shot my eyes closed as my body started to feel hotter, he slowly turned me around, still holding me close, not letting any space between us.
"This dress looks really good on you, Y/N." He traced the line of my sides, where the dress showed my hourglass shape. "You look beautiful." He reached his hand to my chin holding it between his fingers, to look into his eyes, as I couldn't really look into his, when he looked at me like he could eat me right there. He probably wasn't too far from that.
"Thank you." I whispered into his lips. "You look good, as well." I smiled at him teasingly.
He finally smiled, his sharp glare disappearing, as his eyes formed crescents, his deep dimples showing on both sides of his cheeks. "I dressed up only for you." He said with a sweet smile, cupping my face.
I chuckled at that, how could he be so adorable, I can't take this forever. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to die, Sannie." I said smiling at him fondly, feeling as happiness crawled into my veins with every passing minute as I was with him.
"Doing what?" He chuckled as it made my heart more and more warm.
"Being cute, don't do that." I pouted at him.
"Do you want me to be rough?" His voice dropped a few octaves, as he frowned. It always amazed me, how he could switch from being a little adorable cat, to a buffed, scary man. It was insane. He slowly pushed me against the sink, my lower back stinging from the impact.
"San-ah!" I hit his chest, chuckling, as I felt my face getting warmer.
"C'mon, I just want to kiss, my girl." He whined with a pout on his lips.
"Then do it, you idiot." I smiled at him, as I started to get very impatient. He grabbed my waist again and pulled me closer, so he could kiss me finally. I really missed his lips on mine, and just being with him, as we recently both were full with work, we couldn’t really focus on each other. Our lips moved together desperate, not wanting to separate, he tasted like the wine that he drank, I could feel the grapes that were harvested from a big dry Italian field. His lips moved with mine with passion, his hands running up my back to my nape, pushing me forward just to deepen the kiss, I let out a quiet moan at that. When we ran out of oxygen he captured my lower lip between his teeth, biting it so hard I felt like my lower lip is going to bleed if he keeps doing that. My body started to heat, the tension between us getting warmer and warmer. I was very tempted to let him do anything he wanted right there. He slowly started to kiss my jaw, going down my neck leaving sweet passionate kisses on the way, until he reached my collarbone, just to suck a little red mark there. His grip on my waist tightening with the tension getting heavier between us.
“San, they are going to see it.” I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him up to look into his eyes serious.
“I don’t care, I want them to see that you are mine.” He looked at me sharply, the desire in his eyes burning like hell.
He was about to kiss me again, when suddenly we heard talking from the door and we quickly separated from each other just to rush into one of the stalls. I locked the door quickly.
"Stand on the toilet, so they won't see your shoes." I whispered to him feeling nervous of being caught.
He quickly stood up on the toilet which made a weird noise. We looked at each other and started laughing quietly as I pressed my hands to my mouth so I won't make a noise, San did the same as I saw that tears started to appear in his eyes, from the withholding laughter. At the exact same time, the door opened and we heard talking. It was two of the girls, from our friend groups. I leaned my head against the door, and tried to think of some serious things, so I won't laugh.
"Y/N, is that you?" I heard a voice coming from outside after a while. "Are you okay?" My eyes rounded, I started to panic, suddenly words couldn’t come out of my mouth but San nudged me to say something.
"Ahm…Ye-Yes, I'm okay, I just have cramps, but I'll be right back." I said with my voice a bit weak, as they needed to believe what I said. I locked my eyes with San’s as he was struggling to hold his laughter back.
"Okay, tell me if you need anything." My friend said.
"Okay." I answered my voice getting a little weird, as I couldn’t hold my laughter, but they already left the bathroom and I broke into laughter alongside with San. I sighed in relief and leaned against the door, closing my eyes, trying to calm down.
"Fuck, we almost got caught." I whispered, not looking at San. I heard as he slowly jumped off from the toilet and cupped my face.
"What if we don't hide anymore? I'm sick of this constant running when one of our friends are around. At the end of the day, they are our friends." He said still whispering for some reason.
I looked at him, as my heart started to race on the thought of finally being together with San, properly. It surprised me because I would never have thought that San would be the first to take the first step in our relationship. Sure, he was the one confessing to me, but after that it kind of seemed like he was waiting for me, so I could decide what I wanted.
"Really? Do you think we can finally step on the next level? Is it serious for you?" I asked him, feeling a bit nervous, as this question could never leave my mind.
"Of course it is, it was from the beginning, I was just waiting for you, so you could put together the puzzles in your head, as I knew you had a hard time back then," he said smiling at me like I was his whole world.
I held his wrists, that held my face. "Why are you so perfect?" I questioned him, with a smile.
He shrugged with a chuckle. "I don't know, God made me like this, I guess." He smiled, as his face got serious slowly. "But seriously, I want to be with you, properly. I don't want to hide anymore, I want to show you to the world, I want to show everyone that I have the most beautiful woman on Earth, and I don't want anybody near you, just me." His voice was sweet like honey, as his words flowed through my lips, into my heart, as I felt my heart swimming in nothing but honey.
I sincerely smiled at him. "I want to be with you too, San. I want to show our friends how proud I am of you, I always needed to just smile, whenever you talked about your job achievements, but now I want the whole world to know that how proud I am of my Sannie and that I’m right by your side." My smile never disappeared as my eyes sparkled, sweet emotions flowing around us like sweet protectors.
He looked at me, like he couldn't believe his eyes, like he couldn't believe the fact that I was his, wholeheartedly. He closed the distance between our lips, and kissed me like never before, like I was the last thing he cared about, like we were the last standing human beings on earth and the end of the world was near. His lips moved along with mine like it was destined for each other, like it was made for each other. The kiss was slow and passionate, his hands still cupping my cheeks, his right hand slowly tracing down my spine just to grab my waist and pull me closer to him. Our heartbeats were beating with the same rhythm as they became one with us.
"Will you be officially my girlfriend and partner in crime, Y/N?" He caressed my cheeks with loving eyes, after we separated from the best kiss of my life. And how many were waiting for me still.
"Of course I will, San." I smiled at him sweetly, as he leaned again towards my lips, capturing it like he wanted to stamp our promise to each other.
"I would've never thought this is going to be the place when we are going to make our next big step." I said overflowed with happy emotions.
We laughed at our situation and stepped out from the stall finally, leaving our concerns about each other behind. All the concerns and the bad feelings of not being able to be together with San flew away as I saw how San was looking at me, his eyes were full with care, full with love, that made my heart melt.
We left the bathroom hand in hand, so we could finally introduce each other to our friends as boyfriend and girlfriend, many big steps still awaited us in our future together.
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emotionalmessss · 2 months
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Hiii! Can I request yandere Chrollo when reader tries to escape? Hc? Fic? If you want 🥰
A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in so long (school is going to be the death of me I swear). I'm trying to be more active with my writing now that I've officially graduated, I'm sorry for ghosting! Anyways, enjoy Yan!Chrollo :)
Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, implied kidnapping, slight mention of violence and non-consensual touching, and psychological abuse. Chrollo is basically a warning himself lol.
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Chrollo is always one step ahead. After all, he is the head of the Spider, so if you think you can escape from him--good fucking luck. He is cunning, meticulous, and devoted to having you back where you belong--in his arms. But that doesn't stop you from trying, does it?
Congratulations for managing to slip through his fingers, but it won't stay that way for long. There is nowhere in the world for you to hide from Chrollo, he will hunt you down using whatever means that will ensure his success. So, enjoy the freedom while it lasts, because it won't last very long.
Sure, Chrollo might be slightly ruffled at the fact that you actually managed to escape. But will he let that affect his calm composure? No, definitely not. Chrollo plays the long game, and he does it best. And who's to say that he didn't intentionally let you escape? To give you that brief, sweet taste of freedom, only to rip it away at the last second?
Chrollo’s expression remains impassive as he lounges on the plush couch in the middle of his expansive living room. Reclining comfortably into the cushions, he folds one leg over the other while using one hand to flip through the book in his lap. He is perfectly aware of your absence from the apartment--how could he not notice when the air lacks the usual animosity that only you can bring? 
Despite the apartment lacking its usual vibrancy, Chrollo remains calm and composed, a trait that has always irked you. His composure never slips, even now. He finds it pitifully endearing that you thought you could outsmart him--have you learned nothing? Chrollo doesn’t know if he wants to praise you for your bravery or laugh at your naivety. 
Sighing, he stretches his legs out across the coffee table, idly smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles on his dress shirt. You thought escape was an option? How quaint. His lips curl into a faint, knowing smirk; his predictions had been correct--like always. While Chrollo can’t deny that he finds your actions mildly irritating, they are more entertaining than anything else--not that he’d ever show it.
“It’s intriguing, really, how you thought you could just slip away from me,” Chrollo mutters to himself, his voice measured and almost serene. His big, gray eyes finally look up from the antique book in his lap, drifting towards the large window that offers a view of Yorknew City’s skyline. Somewhere out there, you’re hiding, and he can clearly picture the mixture of relief, fear, and paranoia etched on your pretty face. 
He taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch--the only sign that his mind is working in overdrive. Clicking his tongue thoughtfully, Chrollo tilts his head back down to the book resting on his thighs. Running a hand through his raven locks, he lets out a hollow chuckle, quickly followed by a deep sigh. For now, he’d let you play your little game, but in the end, you would not win.
Just like everything else, Chrollo's response will be chilling and methodical. As the head of the Spider, he'll use all the resources he has to get his love back. But for the time being, he will let you enjoy your little game. He's more than confident you'll be back where you belong. Make sure to keep looking over your shoulder every so often, he won't be far behind.
Chrollo will have you back in his grasp, no matter how much you kick, cry, and scream. He will remain unflinchingly composed, acting as though you were merely a small animal that needed to be handled with gentle care. The entire time, he'll have that small, almost invisible smile tugging at his lips--that smile that you've come to hate and suggests bad things for you.
Once he finds you--if he hasn't already been watching you the entire time--he'll strike when the time is right, and when the circumstances align in his favour. He won't be openly aggressive, definitely not towards you. Chrollo will take a different route, one that involves planning, scheming, and manipulation.
Consequences? Oh, there has to be some consequences for your disobedience. But, Chrollo would never lay a violent hand on you. No, that's not his style. He could never physically hurt his love. He can hurt you in other ways, though. Friends and family? That's a whole other story. Chrollo being Chrollo, will do whatever it takes to ensure you comply. Only if he's pushed to that point.
In Chrollo's twisted mind, he is protecting you from the dangers of the world--like a good lover should. He firmly believes that the only place for you to be happy and safe is by his side. He'll manipulate you into believing that you need him, and that even the thought of escaping is utterly impossible.
You’ve been sprinting through the empty streets of Yorknew City for hours, and no matter how far you run, you can’t seem to shake the terror that threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, your feet sting, your lungs burn, and your mind is a jumbled fucking mess--is this what insanity feels like or has Chrollo corrupted you so much? Neither of those reasonings are favourable, but you’d probably choose insanity over Chrollo. 
Frantically, you examine your surroundings as you come to a stop, panting and keeling over. You sluggishly move towards the corner of a large building, slumping back against the bricks and wipe the glistening sweat from your forehead. This is Hell, isn’t it? Clutching your chest, your mind races with a slew of possibilities; different escape routes, places to hide, and potential consequences should you get caught. 
What would the reincarnation of the Devil himself do to you if he were to catch you? Would he hurt you? The odds of Chrollo physically hurting you are slim, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t harm you in other ways. Despite spending an unwilling amount of time with him, you could never fully understand the bastard. You weren’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 
“Get it together, fuck.” Your voice comes out strained and raspy as you forcefully compose yourself, shoving off from the wall to round the corner of the building. Every detail about that man pisses you off--his calculated mannerisms, his unflinching composure, his studying eyes that make you feel like he’s staring into your soul, and that god-awful smile that never looked genuine. 
Just when you soothe your chaotic mind and turn the corner of the building, he appears before you. Your heart plummets, and your feet drag across the pavement as you abruptly halt, completely paralyzed under his scrutinizing gaze. You watch him like a cornered animal, prepared to flee at the slightest sign of malice. But, of course, there is none--perfectly expected from a man like Chrollo. 
“My dear,” Chrollo begins, using the endearing nickname you’ve come to loathe. His voice completely devoid of aggression, showing no hint of the manipulative thoughts that are definitely running through his mind. “Wandering the streets alone at this hour isn’t wise,” he chides gently, his tone tinged with condescension. “Come now, let’s get you back home.” His hand extends towards you, as if he’s giving you a choice. 
You muster up a sliver of self-control, refraining from cussing him out. Instead, you take a cautious step backwards--away from the beast. Noticing this, Chrollo’s lips pull into a slight smile, and his hand returns to his side. He doesn’t move an inch, letting out a resigned sigh that suggests he had anticipated this outcome. His gray eyes never leave yours as the sound of approaching footsteps begins fill the silent street. 
“Please, let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Chrollo continues, his attention focused on you, purposely feigning ignorance of his loyal Spiders who are slowly encircling both of you. He remains the epitome of calm, acting as if your escape attempt was just a minor inconvenience. You stand still, and the Spiders close in, strategically blocking off all paths except for the one leading to Chrollo. 
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hopelessromantic5 · 16 days
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Merthur with King Arthur and pre-Court Sorcerer Merlin.
(Don’t worry though, when this is continued, he will be given his rightful place.
If I have to write it a thousand times, I will see Merlin get his happy ending, dammit.)
“Um. Merlin?”
The manservant had been daydreaming again.
It was honestly getting out of hand.
Two moons had passed since Merlin finally told Arthur about the magic.
It went better than expected.
A great deal better.
He didn’t even really seem surprised. If Merlin could count on himself as a reliable narrator of the story, he would say he saw relief flicker across Arthur’s face before he began asking questions. But Merlin was basically imploding on the inside and terrified that he was about to lose his best friend and his home in one fell swoop, so he might’ve imagined it.
Thankfully, Arthur seemed more anxious for answers than anything. He wanted to understand. After a week of catching him up on the last five years of their lives, magic included, Arthur seemed at peace with it.
A week later was when control began slipping from Merlin’s grasp, ever so slightly. Arthur came to him on a random day in the spring, and nonchalantly said he had some documents he’d like Merlin to read over. Make sure they were presentable for council.
Merlin thought nothing of it, he’d done it countless times thus far, and was secretly looking forward to proof reading speeches for the rest of his life.
You can imagine the shock when he approached the desk and found a repeal of the magic ban. Sitting there, in the sun, in Arthur’s perfect penmanship.
Merlin began weeping.
He could almost hear in his head,
“Don’t be a such a girl, Merlin.”
But it never came.
Instead, the King silently joined him by the desk, and embraced him, for maybe the second time in all of existence.
They hugged like they were trying to meld themselves together.
Arthur had one broad arm wrapped behind Merlin’s neck and the other locking him in by his lower back.
They were two pieces that somehow fit perfectly together.
Merlin hid his, probably unsightly, face in Arthur’s neck and willed the tears to stop themselves falling.
A few heartbeats later Arthur whispered,
“I’m so sorry, Merlin.”
Merlin involuntarily scrunched his eyebrows at that. Yet, he did not let go. He did not want to leave, not yet.
“Why are you apologizing?”
A whisper came back,
“I hate to see you cry.”
Merlin wished on every star in the heavens, that he could’ve seen Arthur, in that moment.
But he would not let go. Not until his King did.
At present, things were moving along very well with the repeal. Especially among the townspeople, who are more than welcoming towards the Kingdom’s new citizens.
However, Merlin found himself with a whole new set of challenges.
Merlin was definitely not staring at Arthur as he shuffled through reports at his desk. Though, the sun was casting the perfect halo on his blonde head. It painted a picture that was wholly ethereal, calming.
When Arthur looked up from his papers suddenly, Merlin went back to his polishing like he never stopped.
Because he didn’t, of course.
That would be inappropriate.
That’s when he heard,
“Um. Merlin?”
The raven boy’s head snapped up from the sword in his lap, and found amusement in his King’s eyes.
“What?” He was skeptical, narrowing his gaze.
“Are you planning on turning my chambers into the Royal Gardens or is this your only idea on how to spruce up the place?”
“What on Earth are you-“ spinning around in his chair, he finally saw it.
Vines wearing tiny purple flowers were slowly crawling their way up the bed-posts; bigger, colorful flowers were beginning to bloom from the cracks in the stone floor.
This is not good.
“Uh, I have to-“ he huffed, placing the sword in his seat and running for the door. “I need to go, sire.”
“Merlin, what are you-“
“I think I’m coming down with something. I’m just gonna go see Gaius about it.” Before he closed the door behind him he yelled “I’ll be back with dinner.”
And then he was gone.
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hiiii 💗 were you thinking about Az and reader best friends taking showers together after a mission? something cute and also very intimate, maybe some smut if you want to put it, feel free. everything that you write is well done, so I will just trust 🥹🥹💗 thank you 🤍
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“you don’t have to turn around, az. i’m perfectly comfortable with you seeing me naked.” you snort as you wash your body off.
his back was facing you, hands covering his gentiles to not flash you them. with anyone else, you might have been insecure about being completely naked in front of them, but not with azriel. he was far too sweet to judge and you were certain he could keep his eyes to himself. he was polite all of the time, even while everyone else feared him. he was the least judgmental being on this earth, centuries of friendship proved that to you.
yet, he was still shy as ever, his cheeks tinted pink as he practically hid from you.
“are you sure?”
you scoffed playfully at his question and rolled your eyes at his manners.
“yes, i am positive.” you giggled as you rinsed off your wings.
you watched the planes of his back and stems of his wings tense, as if he was hesitating to turn around and face you. it was cute, you thought. the way such a flirtatious male could seem so shy with a naked female in a small space with him.
suddenly, it dawned on you that maybe he didn’t want to look at you. you were different, everyone knew it. not only were your wings large for a female illyrian, but your figure was plusher than any fae you had met before. it was something it had taken you years to comes to terms with on your own, with some help from azriel along the way. he would make you feel normal, special with his flirty banter and lingering touches but he had never seen you naked, ever.
perhaps he wasn’t interested to and it made him uncomfortable. you grimaced at the thought of that, feeling some self-hatred bubble it’s way into your throat and tying a knot in your stomach.
“you don’t have to. just know that it’s okay to.” you mumbled.
this mission was very stressful, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in bed with your favorite male and drift to sleep. your wings felt heavier than usual, dirt and blood was packed under your nails and your hair felt unbearably filthy. azriel wasn’t much better; blood was splattered across his back, shoulders and legs, with mud caked in his raven hair. his shadows swirled at his feet defeatedly and the muscles in his back looked utterly exhausted, like the mighty wings perched could fall any second. part of you wanted to lift them for him for some relief but you knew better.
a heavy sigh left his lips before his deep voice cracked through the air. “if i turn around, can you promise me you won’t laugh?”
you furrowed your brows, confusion clouding every sense as you stared at his scarred back.
what on earth would you laugh about? you knew about the scars all over his body from protecting loved ones, and they were nothing to giggle about. you’ve even seen him naked accidentally a few times; nothing was laughable about the shadowsinger’s stunning body.
“why would i?”
“just.” he sighed. “just promise me.”
“okay, i promise.” you said softly.
the shadows at his feet whispered to him, a language you couldn’t begin to understand even after years of hearing the unique communication. you hoped they weren’t making fun of you.
azriel puffed out a breath before shuffling his feet around, revealing himself to you sheepishly. his head hung low, eyes trained on his feet and the dark mist that enclosed the tile floor. his body language looked awkward, as if he felt uncomfortable baring himself to you.
not uncomfortable, embarrassed.
you took him in, trying not to let your eyes travel too low but looking him over enough to find what was funny.
you found nothing but a godlike male in front of you, marred with breathtaking faded scars and toned… everything. not an area of him was soft, his body was completely toned.
so what was there to be nervous about?
“azriel, i swear i’m not just saying this, but what are you talking about? you’re beautiful.”
the spymaster’s cheeks tinted pink at your compliment as he shifted his feet nervously under your intentive gaze. he prayed that your eyes wouldn’t catch sight of what his hands tried to cover, that you wouldn’t kick him out and never speak to him again because of it.
“by the mother, azriel, you are so gorgeous.”
you couldn’t stop yourself from letting another praise slip from your chapped lips. it was so easy, especially since he’s told you how beautiful you are plenty times before. the goal wasn’t to make him flustered, or anything really. his beauty was just so enchanting that you couldn’t help but express it.
screwing his eyes shut, he felt all the blood in his body rush downward as your words replayed in his mind over and over.
‘you’re beautiful.’
‘you are so gorgeous.’
“are you okay, az? are you hurt?” you asked as you took notice of his pained expression.
the mission was dangerous, but you could have swore he was clear of injuries— you checked thrice. maybe it was something internal, like an ash arrow splinter or some kind of spell. whatever it was, you needed to rush him to a healer immediately.
without thinking of how naked you both were, not that he was looking anyway, you stepped closer to him and grabbed at his forearms worriedly, paying no mind to the way he tensed harshly. his eyes found yours reluctantly, trying his best not to pay too much attention to way he could fucking see everything given your height difference. even as he kept his focus on your concerned face, the full imagine of you was there and temping him to stare.
“i’m fine. it’s nothing, just a small headache.” he lied.
he should have known better, really. azriel was a fantastic liar, he even did it professionally, but never to you. you could always see through his fibs, big or small. with one knowing look, he would crumble and tell you the truth. just like now.
“i can’t tell you this time, i’m sorry.”
you glanced around the tile walls in thought, trying to come up with what he could possibly be hiding from you. you and azriel had a no secrets rule, one he set when you when on a date with cassian once, and he took it very seriously on his part. so keeping one now was out of character for your beloved best friend. it worried you deeply, like he couldn’t be himself anymore around you. the thought sickened you.
“why? you know you can tell me-“
he cut you off with a long sigh. “it’s embarrassing.”
“and you think me being naked in front of you right now isn’t?”
azriel knew you had a very valid point, even more so considering your past with body image issues, and he kicked himself for being so insensitive.
“it-“ he sighed once more as he tighten his closed eyes. “i’m sorry.”
you were now immensely curious as to what secret he harbored, what could possibly be so embarrassing that he couldn’t even tell his most treasured friend. the way his eyes were screwed shut tight concerned you greatly.
what if it wasn’t his problem, per say, but it was you? what if he was repulsed by the thought of your naked body? so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you?
so many negative thoughts ran through your mind, causing you to overlook the way his eyes finally opened as your gaze fixated on the bottle of body wash behind him.
this time, he couldn’t help himself. he tested his luck the last time he looked at you, and his restraint was no longer there, exhaustion made it thinner than usual. his eyes flicked to your breasts immediately, and once they caught his attention, he couldn’t stop drinking them in.
his cock was already hard as a rock, the exact thing that had been kept from you, just from the glimpse of your bare stomach earlier from when you tore your leathers off. but now, he was sure it would take him forever to get it down.
“is it me?”
your voice was weak, the exact tone you would use when stressing over your looks to him. it broke his heart into a million pieces to hear you say that, especially when you weren’t technically wrong, but still way off base.
you were right; it was you. you and your godsdamn body that got him in this situation.
“is it because i’m not as pretty-“
“don’t you dare finish that sentence, y/n.” azriel practically growled at you. “because my cock is so fucking hard right now just from the sight of you.”
your breath caught in your throat at his confession. no way this was real. no, this was impossible. a fever dream, you were dreaming. azriel would never think this way of you in a zillion life times, you were absolutely sure of it. this male, your partner, your best friend, was far too out of your league for him to ever think of you this way. he was lying, no doubt.
but he wasn’t, gods he had never been so turned on in his life.
“you don’t have to say that-“
before you could finish, his hands dropped to his sides for the first time since he stepped into the shower with you. instinctively, your gaze flickered to where the movement occurred, a trait from your spy training you picked up, and the whole world stopped.
you always thought in the back of the chambers of your mind that azriel was big, his wingspan and overall energy gave it away— not to mention the rumors around prythian. but never would you have expected to ever see it.
your cheeks heated incredibly, and you were sure he could hear your heart beat quicken.
for a moment, he had thought he made a grave mistake. your silence and wide eyed expression terrified him to no end until he could see your nipples perk up and smell the sweet scent of your arousal.
“az..” you mumbled breathlessly.
“you are the most beautiful female i have ever laid my sights on, y/n. for centuries i have longed for you, and sat by and listened to the awful lies you’ve said about yourself. everything that you hate, wished would change; i have fallen so in love and lust with. I’m sorry, I just don’t have the energy to lie to you anymore and keep myself away from you. I know it may be very uncomfortable for you right now, and I understand if you no longer want to be-“
before he could finish, you smashed your lips to his. instantly, he returned the kiss and placed his hands on your plush hips, giving them a long awaited squeeze.
“fuck, I want you so bad.” he growled against you.
“then don’t hold back.”
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