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goxjo · 3 months

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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 ⋮ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢

↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you find no way out of the most absurd wedding tradition of all time — the garter toss

pairing. groomsman! sakusa kiyoomi x bridesmaid! reader

warnings. no pronouns, f anatomy! reader, peer pressure, biting, soft dom! sakusa, he calls you pretty a lot, he uses the pet name ‘baby’, light choking, he wears a condom but discards it later on, handjob, slight humiliation, slight corruption, deepthroating, slight gagging, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, edging, slight praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!!!! I love him this is a lot I know

word count. 6.1k

an. this is one of my fav fics that I’ve ever written, speaking as an omi girlie myself ;; this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

“Flower girls, please save the petals for when you walk down the aisle. And please, behave,” the coordinator says with hints of sweetness in his voice. He dusts off a few petals that got on his sleeves from a playful dispute between the little girls. Later, he requests for the older (and the more collected) bunch — the bridesmaids and the groomsmen — to be in their places in exactly five minutes.

You don’t really know much of the people here, save for a few bridesmaids and the bride herself, all of whom you’ve been friends with ever since high school. A few minutes ago, at the very brief orientation for the entourage, you stiffened when they announced who you’re getting paired with — a tall man with black wavy hair swept to one side, two prominent moles on the right side of his forehead, dark piercing eyes, and the rest of his face hidden behind a mask. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just seems like he didn’t want to be there.

The coordinator darts his eyes back and forth from his clipboard onto the pairs falling in line but fixes his gaze on your partner who’s about an arm’s length away from you.

“Kiyoomi-san, please take it off just for the ceremony.”

Your partner gives his offender a sinister look, furrowing his brows before ultimately giving in — taking a deep sigh as he hooks his fingers on the loops of his mask.

Your head subconsciously draws back upon seeing his whole face, eyes fluttering, completely taken by how soft the entirety of his face looks regardless of the spiteful demeanor he gave off.

Mesmerized, you watch him slowly glance from the ground up as he folds his mask, keeping it deep in one of his pockets. As soon as your eyes locked, he cocks a brow, and the realization kicks in that you have just been caught ogling him.

Immediately, you look away, attempting to brush off your embarrassment now that you’re minutes away from walking down the aisle.

Shit. Please look away, please—

Promptly, you check to see if he’s still looking. And yes, he is, in fact, staring at you intently. He takes a few steps towards you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

“Sorry, I was just… did you want something—”

“Hold still.”

He inches closer to you, inspecting your face, and you can feel his warm breath brushing over your cheek. He raises his hand and as soon as you feel his fingers running through your hair, you can't help but jolt backwards in response.

“I said hold still,” he commands.

Your mouth opens agape and you feel a soft pinch at the top of your head. Pretty soon he’s waving a stray petal in front of your face.

He falls back in line, letting go of the petal to drop on the red carpet, and you, on the other hand, are frozen in place, not having moved an inch from where he left you.

You realize that you may have overreacted but your heart is pumping nonetheless.

“____, Kiyoomi, you’re up next!” the coordinator announces, and snapping you out of your daze is Kiyoomi offering his arm for you to take.

…

If there’s one thing at a wedding that the guests enjoy more than the bride and groom themselves, that would be the garter toss. Roaring cheers are heard from all corners of the reception hall and phones are whipped out, taking every good angle of the bride and groom in the middle of the dance floor. Obviously, no one is missing a shot of this momentous occasion. You can even tell by the expressions of the hotel staff that they aren’t immune to the appeal of the lewd tradition.

In reality, the ordeal actually goes by quickly. But from both the viewer and the participant’s perspective, it somehow feels menacingly slow. You suppose it’s due to the thrill of having someone consent to get borderline felt up on center stage as a groomsman sticks his head under their skirt, all while crappy overused stripper music plays in the background.

You have to admit, it’s quite the craze… until you consider the possibility that it’s you who gets to do it after all. “All single women to the center of the dancefloor. Bridesmaids, no exceptions!” the host announces, pertaining to you in particular upon seeing your hesitation.

To slim those chances, you stand as far back as possible. That, and so as to not get caught up with the horde of bachelorettes aching for their turn to play wifey. Your friend, the bride, takes one good look at you lot before spotting you at the rear, locking eyes with you, smirking.

You know that devilish look. Oh, don’t you dare.

And with a good throw, the bouquet flies past the mob of hopeful brides-to-be. They attempt their hardest to reach for it but to no avail, now only able to merely follow it with their eyes. A dozen heads turn to look at your figure and reality slaps them on the face all at once, the glimmer of hope leaving their eyes hollow upon seeing the bouquet already within your grasp.

Fuck.

…

Let’s just get this over with. Holy shit, can I do this…

You squirm in your seat, fiddling with the smooth lace wrapped around the bouquet on your lap, mentally debating whether to just say you’re not up for it, but your friends will never let you hear the last of it if you decide to sit this one out.

When you hear the swarm of bachelors bark in defeat, you look for the hand that holds the garter and your eyes widen in shock when you realize who it belongs to.

Although he doesn’t appear to be as miserable as you, not even his mask could hide that it irks him to be on the receiving end of all this attention. How he even ended up being included in the roster of bachelors, you do not know.

You’re being pulled by two of your friends towards the center stage. And just when you think things couldn't possibly get worse—

“What do you say we kick things up a notch?” The DJ riles up the crowd and two seconds later, one of the guests is yelling out, “use your teeth!” Pretty soon, the entire reception hall is echoing that same request.

“USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH!”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to react anymore but it concerns you how Kiyoomi’s face just shifted from peeved to aggravated — and you couldn't tell if it’s because of you or the crowd.

“You’re wasting your time, he’s never gonna say yes to that,” one of the groomsmen with light brown hair and round eyebrows answers in your entourage partner’s stead, snatching the garter from Kiyoomi’s hand.

There’s pressure from the audience but you try your hand at reassuring the onlookers. “It’s okay, we can just pick again. Plus, I honestly don’t think he’s up for it.”

You hear him snicker. Did I say something wrong? Shifting your gaze to him, you see that he has already taken off his mask.

“Get on the chair, sweetie.”

You could feel your heart drop in your chest at his behest.

He loosens his own tie. “Let me borrow that for a sec,” he says, turning to the one who took the garment from him.

The crowd whistles. But so far, with how fast-paced the events are unfolding, that’s really the least of your concerns.

He kneels down on one knee and sneaks back a look at you before hooking a finger underneath your dress — lifting it a little and letting it hang on your knees to grant him a better view. You lower your head, trying to hide the redness of your cheeks after being slightly exposed for everyone to see.

He grabs your leg and your breath hitches at the sudden touch of his cold fingertips on your calves. He stretches the garter wide, letting you keep your shoe as he places the garment loose around your ankle. He brings your leg up higher, near his face this time, securing the ivory band between his teeth.

The rhythm of your pulse drowns out whatever music and cheers that could be heard within this very large hall. You’re on the edge of your seat, hands on either side of the chair for your own support, providing him better access for when he gets to spaces that are… tighter.

The brushing sensation of the lace tickles you as he swiftly drags the garter along your shin. He hooks a hand behind your other leg, subconsciously squeezing it when he struggles a little at your knee.

Once more, he slides a finger underneath the hems of your dress. He takes one look at you as if to ask for permission, and you nod at him — prodding him to go on. At that, he slowly lifts the chiffon garment, burying himself underneath it, and you couldn’t stop your shivers from locking your muscles in tight.

Undeniably, you feel your insides coil at his now-dangerous proximity to your private area. You feel the garter hugging your skin tighter when it reaches your upper thigh before it slaps your skin in his release, causing a bolt of heat to shoot down your center.

Abruptly, you feel a sharp sting when something sunk into the soft skin of your thigh as quickly as it left. Your eyes widen for a brief moment, making you bring a hand up to your mouth.

Did he just…

At that he gets out of your dress, standing on his feet. The groom and the bachelors applaud but he seems unaffected by them.

He extends his hand out to you, making you release what breath you didn’t realize you were holding — your eyes dead fixed on each other as he helps you out of your seat.

You’ve since tuned out any noise from the people around you, especially now that you’re distracted by the new, tingling sensation of soft lace rubbing and tickling between your thighs.

The bride comes up to you, hugging you and screaming at you, overjoyed as if whatever the fuck just happened calls for an even bigger celebration than her own wedding. You look for your partner, only to be met with his back as he heads for the exit. That becomes his cue to take his leave, nowhere to be found for the rest of the evening.

…

In the later hours, you barely speak (or rather, barely respond properly) to other people. You’re tipsy from what little amount of wine and cocktails you had drunk and so far, you only seem interested in learning about Sakusa Kiyoomi — how he’s a professional volleyball player for one of Japan’s top leagues and is without a doubt one of the best you’ll ever see in the country.

Your friends even warn you about him being too frank and too clean, but who on earth would complain about the latter? But the thing that you still can’t wrap your head around is the fact that he rarely ever shows interest in just anyone. “He must’ve really liked you, or else he never would have agreed to that,” one of his friends tells you — some words you’re trying to not get too hyped about.

The last of all the absurd wedding traditions is where the groom carries his bride to their room, and you all take that as your signal to leave as well. It’s pretty late but you still haven’t gotten over your high from earlier. And with this place being the same hotel where most guests are checked in, you silently hope to at least bump into him again, checking at every turn as you make your way to your hotel room. But again, he’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re dead set on denying your futile longing if anyone asks.

Feeling uneasy, you get out of your clothes, leaving them and your other belongings on the floor of your bathroom, and find yourself soaking in a warm bath. You’re frustrated — half due to feeling you have unfinished business and half due to the possibility that you’re romanticizing your little encounter more than you should.

The warm bath should’ve helped by now, but the knotting feeling in the pit of your stomach is only welling up inside you. Resting your head on the edge of the tub, you close your eyes, repeating the moments over and over in your head, with each account of the memory almost as potent as when you had experienced it hours ago.

Finishing up in your late-night bath, your attention is called to the sound of your phone receiving a text.

…

Text message from unknown

Today 2:00 AM

:Are you still up?

:I hope you don’t mind. I had Komori ask for your number from the bride.

Komori? You had your guess — or hopes up, more likely. But no way, it couldn’t be.

Who’s this?:

Text message from unknown

Today 2:01 AM

:It’s Kiyoomi. Can I come over?

——

Three hours. It has been nearly three hours since you last saw him.

A dim, ambient yellow emanates from the two lamps on your nightstands, one on either side of the bed, your only sources of light. You sit on the edge of your bed, restless, mindlessly tapping the heel of your foot to the floor, taking deep breaths as your anticipation wells up in your chest.

Five minutes. That was how long it took for you to come up with an answer.

You have done your part in reminding yourself that you just met the man today. You’re blatantly aware that that important bit of information holds him against your better judgment. Even so, you’re meek to dismiss the biggest warning signs over the slightest doubts that… Maybe he means well? I don’t even know what he wants. But what could he possibly want at 2 in the morning?

And as for you, well, what could you possibly want dressing up like that?

…

Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since you replied to his text with your hotel room number.

Clad only in the hotel-provided bathrobe that covers you only up to your thighs, you clump the blue linen fabric in your balled fist, further exposing your thighs, unarmed with the first thing to do or say once he gets here — once he sees how you chose to present yourself.

The suspense is killing you. Your own imagination running amok causes you to put a hand in between your crossed legs. Breaths, labored. Your bottom lip, red and plump from your constant, thoughtless nibbling. And worst of all, your own velvet walls, twitching.

Maybe this is a bad idea, you realize, prompting you to get up and throw on some pants, underwear, anything. Except you’re brought to a halt when…

2:30 AM — it was what it said on the digital clock on your nightstand when you heard three full knocks coming from the other side of the door.

Your body makes an involuntary turn towards the door, striding slowly as you tighten the belt of your robe, a minor sting lacing around your stomach. You can feel blood rushing to your cheeks, heart pulsating when your hand makes contact with the cold doorknob.

After having heard no follow-up nor signal from the other side of the door, you would have believed that your senses fooled you the first time you heard knocking. Would have, if it weren’t for the tall man in a gray hoodie and black sweatpants standing in front of you. It doesn’t surprise you that even in the later hours, his pretty face is still concealed behind a mask.

“It’s you,” you say, partly as a greeting and partly to convince yourself he’s real.

His eyes trail your form from up to down, black orbs deep as night studying you torturously slow. You don’t know what it’s for but you find it safer to assume that it’s judgment coming from him, making you fiddle with your hair, looking away as you’re suddenly conscious of how you look.

“It’s me. Aren’t you gonna let me in, ___?” he inquires, tone as monotonous as ever but you don’t miss the smirk in his voice at his mention of your name. The very first time you hear your name roll off his tongue, it knocks the breath out of your lungs and sends you to a near-cardiac arrest.

You take a step back before turning your back to him, leading the way to your bedroom.

Keeping a clear head proves to be quite the task. You’re careful not to let him detect any nervousness from you but you know that to be a lost cause when the mere sound of the door closing shut behind him causes you to flinch, not to mention the hairs that prickle all over your body when he suddenly runs the back of his fingers along your spine.

You gulp, crossing your arms tight around your chest, covering yourself up a little bit as you gather the courage to even turn around.

Looking at him over your shoulder, you pick up that he’s also somewhat keeping a distance from you. Like he’s waiting for something from you, a signal perhaps? Your lips subconsciously part in your musing but you’re unable to mutter a single word.

Raising a brow at you, he asks, “you’ve got questions?” sounding more like a fact than a query.

“Well, you— uhm… you disappeared all of a sudden…” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers as you turn to face him entirely.

“And?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you reluctantly ask, “I don’t know, I guess I just— where had you gone off to? And… Why did you come over?”

The first time his eyes leave your form, he cranes his head back, hands digging into the pockets of his hoodie as he thinks of an answer. When he doesn’t say anything, you add, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”

“No one’s ever gotten me to be in that kind of position,” he responds and your heart drops over your presumption of where this conversation might lead to.

“Making me go down on my knees and stick my head underneath your skirt like that,” he adds, eyes staring daggers into yours again.

“I didn’t mean for it to… if you’re asking me to apologize then—”

“I’m asking you,” he cuts you off, taking a few steps closer to you, “to be good for me like you were earlier, and then we’ll call it even.”

Your breath hitches as you subconsciously draw one hand to a fist, balling the hems of your robe, feeling a pool of heat growing in your core before you nod your head twice in agreement to his terms.

His figure towers over yours as he tilts your chin up with a finger, “Not like that, ___. I want you to say it.”

“…I’ll be good for you, Kiyoomi.”

Soon, his hands are moving to the bands of his mask but before he could tug on them, you interrupt him. “Wait—” you pause, your eyelashes fluttering, making him cock a brow in response. “Allow me?”

At that, he relaxes his stance, letting you do as you please. One side of his face is golden where the light touches, dark brown where it doesn’t. And for the third time today, you’re rewarded with his soft, captivating features that he tends to deprive others of in his aversion to dirt.

You try to brush off the thought but it’s so hard to dismiss the fact that he’s so good looking. You know you’re never going to get enough of him.

He pulls you in slowly, ridiculously big arms wrapping around you, his touch embedded with a bit of care in contrast to his daggers for words. He presses your tits and stomach flat against his taut stomach as he holds you by the small of your back.

The feeling of need for your mouth to be occupied grows but you wait for him patiently. Even now, his eyes study you, looking as if he has something to say.

“Fuck it,” he cusses after what seemed like a debate in his head. “You’re so pretty.”

If you thought his features looked soft, his lips definitely felt much softer. His kisses are heavy with need, betraying what composure he let on earlier.

You roam your hands across his biceps that feel hard to the touch, hands finding solace on his broad shoulders, melting into his hold as you find the taste of his mouth finer, and far more intoxicating, than the liquors you indulged in today.

He trails a hand lower to grab your ass, unintentionally pulling on the skirt of your robe. You moan into the kiss upon the brush of a cold breeze past your slightly exposed bottom.

He’s the first to pull away and you whine at the abrupt separation.

“Lie down.” He runs his fingers through his locks while he tries to catch his breath, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, his signature bass deeper than usual. Before you could submit to his request, he places a soft, wet kiss on your cheek, surprising you by pulling on the strings of your robe.

“Kiyoomi!” you whine in your shock, hands automatically crossing over your exposed chest but he pays no mind to it. Instead, he begins to trail kisses from the crook of your neck up to your jaw.

“Mm,” you purr when he hits a sweet spot on your neck, making him attack that same spot repeatedly and oh so tenderly. Your head cranes back to grant him more access to your neck, your own body betraying your resistance earlier.

Your legs feel like jello at this point with every ounce of defiance leaving your body from how good he peppers your skin with his kisses. Kiyoomi knows what you want, and makes sure you know what he wants.

He kisses the lobe of your ear once, hot breath fanning your ear as he whispers, “You don’t need to hide from me. And weren’t you the one who promised to be good for me?” He kisses your temple. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your robe drop to the floor, doing as you’re told. His eyes explore your body, exposed skin burning underneath his half-lidded gaze. Kiyoomi’s cold fingertips caress your side, calluses leaving a faint trail where he touches. You look away in embarrassment but his hand is quick to capture your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks.

“Eyes on me.” His hand wraps loosely around your neck, thumb stroking your throat, making you swallow a lump of saliva in your submission. Next, he reaches for your breast, placing your nipple in between two fingers as he fondles your tit.

There’s a certain tenderness with the way he handles you. A softness in his touch, in stark contrast to his rough demeanor. Big man that knows just how delicate you are compared to him, like you’re something that needs to be treated with utmost care, that if he’s not careful enough, he just might break you.

“Lie down.” Eyes still fixed on his, you lie down and he mirrors you, towering over you as you prop your elbows on the bed, your knees drawn together, pressing against his stomach.

“Whenever you’re rea–hha!” You let out a gasp when he pulls you by your thighs closer to the edge of the bed, granting him easy access to your entrance. He gets down on his knees, face dangerously close to your cunt. “Keep still, I want to try something.”

“What are you—”

Kiyoomi parts your knees abruptly, eliciting a whimper from you. “Kiyoomi, please,” you whine, he looks at you briefly before turning back to your cunt. He releases a breathy grunt upon seeing your pussy so wet and puffy, clenching before him. Warm breath wafts across your folds before he takes a whiff. “Lavender, huh? Were you preparing?”

Your knees attempt to contract upon his inquiry, but he pins your legs down on both sides.

“This is embarrassing, Kiyoomi.”

“Omi. And I’m sure it is. Who would have guessed that sweet, harmless ___ would lie down in bed, spread wide open for me?” he teases, running his thumb along your slippery slit, making you bite down on your lower lip, eyes rolling back when he starts to rub slow circles on your clit. “Sweet ___, drenched in your own juices, when I haven’t even gotten to half of what I plan to do to you.”

“Ff-fuuuck,” your moans drag out, betraying your own words. “O-omi–mm,” you coo, humming when he inserts two fingers inside you easily, slowly fucking your hole. Your hips buck in a poor attempt to ride his hand, arching when he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Hm?” he asks before slowly swiping his tongue side to side, alternating between sucking and playing with your clit, and he realizes just how vocal you can get with your purring now filling the room.

“Ha—Omi, I need—hm,” your words are coming out incoherent with how good Kiyoomi’s tongue feels on your clit, but it’s not quite enough. “Fuuuck, fuck me, Omi, please, fuck,” you whisper and it feels like a prayer on your lips, starting to feel your orgasm building up. But right when your hole begins to spasm, Kiyoomi pulls his tongue back, fucking you with a third digit, and you wince at the slight tear.

“What is it, ___?” seeing the smirk plastered on his face causes your entire face to burn up, and at this point, you realize that he’s insistent on making you last out.

“I want to see you too, please.”

…

As if Kiyoomi eating you out isn’t enough to push you over the edge, watching him strip out of his clothes is a whole experience in itself. He’s built as you would expect a professional athlete, but seeing all of him, bare, in the flesh sends your core throbbing in excitement. And though the thought of him being big shouldn’t come as a surprise, you’re forced to inhale air through gritted teeth upon seeing what he packs beneath his trousers — long, girthy, and veiny — fully erect with the tip glinting with precum. Oh he’s big, alright.

His curls drop to his forehead when he looks down, rolling a condom over his hard shaft. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’ve been practically eye-fucking him. “It’s rude to stare, pretty (nickname),” he says with sarcasm hinted in his voice. Even after seeing each other naked, after letting him taste you, you still feel the need to look away, flustered from just his words.

He aligns himself at your entrance, laughing through his nose at your adorable flushed state. He tilts your chin to look at him, your blown-out irises meeting his black ones. “I told you to look at me, didn’t I?”

“I-I am. Please, Omi.”

He crouches down to your level, muscles crunching and contracting with every movement, hands propping beside you, trapping you as he captures your lips gingerly. Your stomach locks in tight with the light slap of his dick on top of it. Your fingers instinctively wrap around it making him grunt into the deepening kiss. He bucks into your hand, hard cock slippery from the condom but he suddenly pulls out with dissatisfaction all over his face.

“Fuck it. I want to feel all of you,” he says as he impatiently discards the condom. Not a second later, he recaptures your mouth and your hand forms a ring once again around his dick. His cock feels warmer to the touch, slick with his own precum. Kiyoomi clearly finds it better this way, humming into the kiss as he lets you pump his dick.

Next thing you know, he’s on his feet, him in all his 6 '4 might, towering over you. You sit up and you find your face levelled with his cock. Through thick lashes you look up at him, jerking his shaft wet as you prop your free hand on his hip.

He welcomes that look on you. If he isn’t, he wouldn’t be sweeping your hair behind your ear. The corner of his lip upturns as if he wishes to entertain the thought you just had.

You really just want to please him.

Eyes looking up at him, you slide the expanse of your tongue up and down across his shaft, mirroring how he ate you out earlier, tip of your tongue flicking at his foreskin.

“Hm,” he huffs out, head craning back, cussing and grunting from how good your tongue feels.

“I want to make you feel good, Omi,” you say, with a glint of bashfulness in your voice.

With steady breaths, you try to take as much of him as you can, but you’re only able to take in not even half of his cock when you feel a slight gag behind your throat. You take a deep breath through your nose to control your reflex. “Fuuuck,” Kiyoomi groans, cock feeling tight around your throat and to say your own pussy is drenched is an understatement. You know just how much you’ve been making a mess as you grind on the sheets.

With tears beginning to prickle your eyes, you bob your head, hand pumping his dick as an extension of your mouth. Kiyoomi’s hand caresses the side of your face while you fill yourself up with his cock. His abs begin to flex even harder in front of you in an attempt to prevent himself from fucking your throat. He knows you just wouldn’t be able to take it.

The second he feels his cock throb he pulls out of you.

“Stop,” he says it more to himself really, unwilling to finish in your mouth. “Sorry, we made a little mess.” He uses his thumb to wipe off the mix of precum and drool that dripped to the side of your face. His expression, both stoic and yet oh, so endearing. You suppose it’s part of his allure, him coming off ominous even as he peppers you with tenderness.

“You really are lovely, ___, and I’m going to cum in you, not your mouth,” he tells you so matter-of-factly, to which you can only nod in obedience.

He pushes you by your chest gently, making you lie down and wrap your legs around his waist. And without warning, he thrusts all of his cock inside you, making you scream both in pleasure and pain, your own wetness allowing him to slide into you with ease but it doesn’t help with the stretch. It’s not an exaggeration to say he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. And his pace is unforgiving, orienting you with the stamina of a professional athlete.

“O-omi,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as you clutch onto his biceps. His length leaves your walls almost as soon as he pounds balls deep into you. Moments later, your pain turns purely into pleasure, finding yourself smiling in your own euphoric high the more he thrusts into you, hitting your sweet spot.

“If only you could see how pretty you look when you’re being so good to me, taking my cock like that.” He rests his forehead on top of yours, his dark eyes hooded and boring into you, planting soft and sloppy kisses in between sentences.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop–” Your brain is rewired by his cock with every roll of his hips. Every new detail of him is a new engraving in your memory, and every memory of him is an experience – from the sight of his soft curls beginning to stick slick to his forehead, the feeling of his biceps contracting beneath your palms, the clashing sounds of your moans against his grunts and shallow breathing, to every wet slap of his hips on your cunt.

You can’t get enough of him. The obscene thought of fucking a man you had just met and know so little of should have scared you. But it is, without a doubt, bringing you over the edge, making your walls knot at the very fact.

You start to feel tears well up in your eyes when he hooks your legs around his arms, and you become a teary-eyed, whining mess at the ample friction on both your clit and your g-spot.

“You’re even prettier when folded, fuck.” His mouth is on yours once again, tongue so familiar with your own at this point. He props himself up higher as he wantonly jerks his hips to brush over your clit. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Omi!” arching into him, you crane your head back as you let out a high-pitched cry of his name, your walls fluttering as you come undone around his cock, nails burying crescents into his skin, and you swear you hear Kiyoomi utter a curse under his breath.

And he doesn’t stop fucking you. He keeps a steady rhythm, coaxing the buildup of your second orgasm seconds after your first.

“I-I want to make you feel good too, Omi, please,” you chirp, utterly intent on committing to your promise.

“You do feel good, baby.” You try with all your might to answer but your walls are too busy coiling as he fucks you through your second high. “You don’t know how good your tight pussy feels around my cock.” The corners of his mouth turn upwards, and albeit only slightly, the sight of it is a high in itself.

Before you know it, he’s able to prop himself up with one hand on a side plank, roughly rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers, and you’re losing your mind over how he keeps hitting your g-spot while he teases your sensitive bud. Your erratic heartbeat all but fills your chest when you notice his pace has gotten uneven, his breath, shaky.

“Omi, I’m-I’m—” He takes one full thrust in you, releasing the loudest groan he’s had tonight. His cock twitches inside of you, stuffing you full of his hot cum, preventing you from finishing your sentence when you reach your own high at the same time as his. His propelled hand doesn’t falter even when he’s on the brink of collapse from his own orgasm, and you can tell he’s avoiding crushing you with his form.

He pants, slowly pulling out of you, and flops as he rests his head on top of your stomach, the both of you taking a second to catch your breaths.

He plants a kiss on your stomach before he leaves you briefly, heading towards the bathroom. You close your eyes for a bit, devoid of strength to worry about him leaving you. You jolt up when you suddenly feel a towel on your cunt.

“Hold still,” he tells you for the second or third time today, finding him cleaning up the cum that’s beginning to drip out of your pussy. And at this point, you’ve lost count of the number of times he has taken you by surprise.

Once done, he makes his way back to the bathroom to dispose of the used towel properly, making you chuckle at how even when he’s exhausted to the brim, his own tendencies never leave him.

Finally, he sits down and takes the space beside you. Still catching his breath with his back slightly hunched, he stares forward at nothing.

You, on the other hand, know better by now than to probe him, and so you wait for him to speak his mind.

“No lie. I really thought you were the prettiest earlier,” he confesses all of a sudden and you almost feel your eyes popping out of their sockets. “Still do.”

“What… happens now?” Truth be told, you really didn’t want to bring it up, but the question has since welled up in your stomach even before he fucked all rhyme and reason out of your brain.

“I wanna try something else,” he utters, “something where I get to wake up next to you in the morning.” And you realize you were worried for nothing.

Smiling to yourself, you respond, “I’d like that.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #tw corruption #[ ! ] bridesmaid series #[ ! ] something borrowed #!love letters #!sakusa #꩜— interstellar communications #!haikyuu

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highvern · 6 months

Text

Freak Like Me

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: daddy kink (sigh), dom/brat tamer cheol, brat reader, heavy degradation (from both), dirty talk, spitting, choking, spanking, manhandling, ass play, minor breeding kink, name calling

Length: ~4k

Note: he haunts me day and night, when will i know peace from this man. thank you @wongyuuu and @onlyhuis for beta-ing! also pls dont request any daddy kink fics! this was a one off and i dont see myself writing more

Summary: You’re always happy to indulge in your boyfriend’s fantasies. That doesn’t mean he won’t have to work for it though. And that's just the way Seungcheol likes it.

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked

Six years of dating means most nights in bed are spent watching movies on the too large flatscreen your boyfriend insisted on buying until you fall asleep. Not that the appeal of having Seungcheol anyway you wanted wore away but the passion of your earlier days burned into content to spend evenings curled in each others’ arms after a day of exhaustion.

You’re already greasy from lotion, the worn shirt speckled with holes sticking to your skin still warm from a blister shower. Snuggled between fresh sheets with a candle burning on the side table and a good book, you’re the pinnacle of content.

Seungcheol is visible just over the edge of the page, lent against the doorframe. Sometimes he’s like this; watching you like he can’t believe he managed to get you to say yes to the first date, let alone everything else that’s come after. You meet his gaze with an arched brow.

He’s quieter than usual when he flops over your body to snuggle into the curve of your shoulder. Marking the page, you toss aside your book in favor of squeezing him into a hug.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

A fleet of kisses across the stretched neckline of your shirt is Seungcheol’s only response.

You indulge when he finds your mouth. Lips parted around one of his, the soft point of a tongue sneaking between your teeth.

He crawls over you easily enough, one thigh resting between the dip of yours as he hums. “Can we try something?”

Nipples hard from some light petting, you kiss along Seungcheol’s jaw with a faint nod to acknowledge his request.

“Could you–”

“I’m not letting you put your dick in my ass. I have too much shit to do tomorrow to be limping around.”

Seungcheol leans back to pin you with round eyes round and pouty lips. “I thought you liked it?”

“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, circling your arms around his shoulders. “When I have a few days' notice.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking anyway but good to know.”

“Okay, so what do you want then, your majesty?”

Dropping back into the safety of your throat, your boyfriend mumbles something intelligible.

“Come again?” You snicker from the vibrations. “Sorry, I don’t speak pout.”

“Call me daddy.”

Oh.

It’s not an unexpected request. You’ve dated for six years, you know your boyfriend like the back of your hand. He likes the thrill of telling you what to do, watching you get off on it too. But sometimes it feels like he’s holding back. As if there’s another level he hasn’t fully allowed himself to explore yet. The proof rests in the months-long push and pull at the beginning of your relationship where you all but humped his leg and he still would keep his hands more or less PG-13. The secret to getting Seungcheol to admit his deep dark secrets is to convince him they get you hot too.

“Hmmmm.” You pretend to think, already sold on the idea the second he opened his mouth. But you can’t let him know you’re that whipped despite the fact Seungcheol knows too well how easy you are for him. “What’s in it for me?”

Seungcheol pins you under his mouth, tracing promises across your lips, teeth, and tongue until everything goes fuzzy at the edges.

He drops to your jaw, tracing the same pattern across your pulse until you melt. “God, you’re hot.”

Seungcheol talks a big game but a few complements, tinted with candor from the promise of pleasure, makes him blush like he hasn’t fucked you every way imaginable.

“Don’t make it too easy for me,” he goads into your stomach, dipping beneath his shirt to nip across your hips.

“Then get up here, I’ve got shit to talk.”

The heat of his lap greets your ass first, next is the rough palms of his hands slipping under your shorts and finding you went to bed without panties. Again.

“You’ll kill me,” Seungcheol grunts into your mouth with a drive off his hips.

Hot and hard, you settle your weight back into his cock teasingly. “Death by pussy? Sexy.”

A hand circles your jaw, holding you in place while he takes what he wants. Every gasp and sigh, nipping across your lower lip until you melt into his chest and pull off his shirt.

Your nails rake down his front, red lines raising to claim him. Memories of college, when you’d bite your mark into his neck for the sole purpose of parading around parties, broadcasting who he belonged to without shame, flare across your brain. But now you’re older and a hickey the size of a golf ball would look less than professional in front of his clients. The idea still gets you hot enough to try for one on your boyfriend’s stomach, right where the vein that leads straight to his dick.

Seungcheol lets you melt down his front. Bracketed between thick thighs, you might as well be queen of the world as you tongue across the waistband of his pants; the bulge of his arousal digging across your breasts.

A hand on his cock loosens his resolve. You might just get away with not playing the mind games he wants tonight but your curiosity is piqued enough to remind him.

“Daddy,” you gasp in mock surprise. “You’re so hard for me.”

You barely manage to lap at the head through his pajamas before Seungcheol is putting his muscles you use and crowding you on to your back.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your lover grunts, ripping your shorts out of the way before diving into his favorite meal. “Say it again.”

“If I do?”

He sucks your clit the same way he kisses; slow and lazy until you’ve got the itch in your gut only quelled by his touch. Seungcheol can do it for hours and he has. Sucking until your eyes water and you practically float to the ceiling.

The sounds of his mouth tickle your ears. Wet and nasty until he groans into your cunt like he’s never tasted anything better. A stray hand makes for the nest of dark hair still damp from his shower only to be pinned on your gut with enough force you’re tempted to fight to break free.

“Just take it right now,” Seungcheol mumbles around his own tongue. “Be good for me.”

“Fuck, Cheol. Fuck, just like that.” You sob, already breaking cover under the hands of your lover.

First warning comes across your clit with a nip of teeth. “Not my name.”

Your incentive to listen, two thick fingers that know exactly where to play, drive home his request. But if your boyfriend wants what he asked for, then the best way to get him to fully indulge isn’t listening to him. It’s goading him until he makes sure you taste nothing but his cock for the next week.

Like always, you can’t help a smart comment from bubbling past your lips. “Make. Me.”

Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat. A single brutal rush of his fingers sends you to the stars. Tongue flat across your sensitive bud, he sucks his cheeks hollow until you whine. There isn’t the usual care he takes even when you’ve been bad with the sole purpose of pushing him to his wits end with hot looks and borderline obscene touches. Seungcheol is wringing you dry with his own sadism.

The next quip dies on your lips when he curls his tongue inside you between his spread fingers, leaving you feeling dirty in the best way. Watching him eat pussy is like watching an artist but when you go to peek he’s already watching you.

“Beg for it.” Chin and cheeks soaked, even his nose shines in the low light of the lap, Seungcheol fucks you with slow fingers through his next demand. “Beg for it and I’ll let you come like this.”

“Or you can just make me cum?” Your voice gains an octave under the curl of his fingers. Usually he’s eager to give whatever you ask for but not tonight.

“Or you can do what I tell you, ” he sucks into your clit.

Choking on your pout, you trace your foot up his back. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The fun is in your boyfriend, sweet Seungcheol who treats you like a princess without a want left in the world, folding you in half on his cock until you’re crying. He knows it, you know it, and the real foreplay is baiting him into doing it.

“Do you want to cum or not?” He snatches your ankle off his shoulder, pushing until your knee is by your armpit in an impressive show of flexibility.

“Oh, please daddy make me cum!” You wail sarcastically. It echoes the porn you’ve watched with him in mind and doesn’t taste as bad on your tongue as you thought.

It’s the last straw for now because Seungcheol does the one thing to make you behave. He pulls away.

“Wait, no.” You scramble. Soft touches and softer eyes while you beg. “Baby, please. Please, don’t stop.”

“Come here.”

Planting back in his lap, you rain placating apologetic kisses across his face while your hand plays with his cock. Or you would if Seungcheol didn’t twist your arm and pin it at your spine.

“Are you ready to be good?”

You hum a yes. Exaggerating for remorse, you nose into the soft spot below his ear you know Seungcheol goes soft for.

“Then show me.”

This time when you move to take his cock in your mouth, Seungcheol only holds you back to press down his pants. Hard and sticky at the tip. You lick your lips, waiting for permission before cleaning up the mess he’s made for you. You’ll be good until he’s too far gone to stop next time you mouth off.

The taste is one you're accustomed to, coating your tongue as you swallow him down until you nose the coarse hair dusting his base. One hand weighs on the back of your head, stroking gently while you do the dirty work with your tongue.

“Good girl,” he sighs as you mouth around the head with an obscene amount of spit. It drips where your hand squeezes. “Like this, don’t you?”

“Love it.” You mumble around your tongue. “Love your cock.”

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your body like he owns it. The pink of your tongue flush against the maroon cockhead, the curve of your ass in the air for a good show. All his for the taking when he wants. But the air in his lungs is too even. Seungcheol is too in control to let go and you won’t stop until he unravels.

A hard lick where he leaks is enough to get the game back in motion.

“Shit. Get up here.”

Cock aching against the soft of his stomach, hair a mess, and flushed from across every visible trace of skin, your boyfriend is a wet dream come to life.

“Hi,” he smiles into your mouth, painfully sweet.

You can’t hide your matching one. “Hi.”

“I love you.”

Shirt lost over your head, he cups your aching breasts as his thumbs drag across their peaks.

“I love you too.” You sigh.

“Are you into it or should we stop?”

Meeting in a kiss, you ask, “Into what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“I’m a firm believer if a man wants to be called daddy he should be able to say it with his chest.”

“But do you want to call me that?”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn't do it.” You snort. “When have you ever been able to get me to agree to something I don’t want to do?”

The answer is never. Your relationship is forever tainted by matching stubborn streaks. If either of you falls to the other it’s because you wanted to all along but needed to be wooed first.

Seungcheol puffs an amused breath into your neck at the shared thought.

“Am I being too bratty? Is that why you think I don’t like it?”

“No, I—,” he pauses to gather his thoughts. “I think it—Makes me want to punish you.”

“Really? You fake a gasp, indulging in the lap of his tongue over your jugular. “Tell me more.”

“You’re bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You deny with your chin in the air but your hips swivel across his cock to prove his point.

He gets inside you with easy manipulation, ass flat to his thighs so the only place to go is up into his mouth. Seungcheol grunts under the first rock of your hips. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

“Oh?” Less of a reaction to his words and more to the way he grips the meat of your ass like he owns it. “Sure you’re up for the challenge?”

The hot sheets Seungcheol previously occupied greet your back as he drives back in with his weight center behind his hips. And then he waits.

“Cheol,” you huff.

Another nudge between the thighs accompanied with the sting of his teeth across your nipple.

“Please?”

Thighs hooked over his own, Seungcheol spreads you out until you’re spread flat and helpless. Your hands got next, tangled in the fabric of the pillow cases above your heads under one palm.

He gives it all to you. Hot into your core until he tickles the back of your throat but it's not satisfying the itch. He isn’t fucking you, he’s fucking with you. Giving just enough you’ll need more.

Ankles locking around his spine, you throw your weight into the next desperate plea. “Fuck me, daddy.”

You feel the smirk across his mouth when he kisses you; blistering and wanting, with too much tongue but he gives you the first real cant of his hips and you can’t complain.

Every curl inside leaves you heaving. But there’s no air, just your boyfriend with something to prove and the stubbornness to give it to you.

“Take it just like that.” He grunts, breath lost to the way you curl around him. “Say it again.”

“Oh, yes daddy,” you moan with your head back.

“Look at you. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

The spark of defiance burns into a flame. You're not down deep enough to behave just yet. Seungcheol wants you to be bad, so you’ll be the worst.

“You’re a freak.” And to add insult to injury, you spit in his face.

Seungcheol freezes. Gazes burning, you both wait for him to catch up and match your move.

Maybe you’ve gone too far. Goading him is one thing, but spitting in faces is his territory. One you’ve never broached on but the tint of red looks good cover in your saliva. Almost like when he eats you out until you cry and black out.

Your thoughts don’t dwell on how good your man looks covered in you when he sneers.

“I’m a freak?” He scoffs, rising to one arm to leer over you. “Who’s the bitch getting wet from being treated like a slut?”

God. You think. Even after years he can leave you tongue tied. But now that you’ve started whatever this is, you hope Seungcheol will finish it.

“Hmmm I don’t know,” you sing. You take the opportunity to paint him with more traces of your nails, smooth skin rippling red and pink. He shudders predictably but manages to wrangle you back into place. “Big talk coming from the man who got off on making her cum when his friends were in the same room.”

“Yeah? And who wanted my friends to watch her blow me?”

You open your mouth to talk back but choke on a thumb. He nearly tickles your throat with it, caving your chest with struggle until you can control your breathing.

“Aww, you look so pretty like this.” Seungcheol pats your cheek until you're warm with embarrassment.

He isn’t as nice when you bite down.

Thumb digging into your tongue until you choke again, the cut of his teeth against your earlobe makes you quake with want as he growls, “You’re done talking.”

If the digit in your mouth wasn’t enough to reduce you to a puddle, his cock is. Fast and brutal, Seungcheol gives it to you the way he knows best. Your end crests faster than you’re prepared for.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry messily.

Seungcheol’s eyes burn with excitement but he doesn’t stop; he pries your mouth open and spits flat on your tongue.

“Cum for me.” He groans into your cheek. “Let me see my pretty little slut cum.”

Everything aches from the force behind such a command but your body delivers. Tight, tight, tight until the cord snaps and you’re seizing. Your boyfriend controls your thrashing like its easy work, weighed down with his hips and chest and thighs while you wail.

Nerves scorched, you feel him cooing sweet affirmations in your ear but the words fall deaf. Your jaw is wet from his thumb’s gentle stroking, and his stomach is flat to your own; only moving between breaths.

“Good girl, did so good for me. Always do.”

You groan somewhere deep in your throat. “God, that was hot.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding an affirmative, you push him away. Seungcheol goes easily enough. Clearly he’s still not fully in the space he needs to take advantage of his kinks; of your new found, shared fantasy.

Stealing his pillow, you fold it under your hips for the stability the muscles of your legs fail to provide. Ass high in the air, you ground into the sheets.

“More?” he asks. He’s eager, hands pulling at your cheeks, spreading them to get a look at the mess he’s made of your cunt.

“Wanna see you cum.” Looking over your shoulder with doe eyes and a pout, you sell his fantasy. “Please, daddy.”

Seungcheol guides himself through your damp folds, collecting your arousal with each swipe; nudging against your sensitive clit and chuckling at your responsive shudders until he catches on your entrance. He dares to dip in just barely an inch before pulling back; repeating the dance over and over, sinking deeper with each repetition until the flat of his pelvis is flushed with your skin.

The stretch is enough to drive you mad, full to the brim and squeezing around the intrusion promising nothing but satisfaction again. Seungcheol doesn’t wait for confirmation. Simply rocking into you with firm pressure as he’s drowned in the scorching clamp of your pussy.

Forcing a hand between your front and the bed to play with your clit, you pant into the pillow as everything multiplies.

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

The fabric below you is ruined with your spit. Fresh sheets put to good use. Cocking over your shoulder you find Seungcheol with his mouth tight and eyes glued where he stretches you. “You wouldn’t know him.”

Your laughter tastes like acid, high on reward the sick answer will grant you. Immediately, your ass stings with his hand print. Again and again until it aches like a sunburn.

There’s no other choice but to take it. With his other hand between your shoulder blades, Seungcheol fucks you hard enough your teeth chatter.

“Shit! That's what gets you wet?” You hear the sound of his spit against your ass, already soaked that it won’t make a difference but gets you hot anyway. “Pretending anyone else could fuck you like I do?”

A blast of excitement floods your veins. The thrill he’s letting go bit by bit, stringing himself out the way he always manages to get you. “Then fuck this pussy like it belongs to you.”

Collapsing across your back, Seungcheol collars you with one hand to pull you from the shelter of the pillows before spitting, “Spread it for me.”

He fucks you raw and aching. Hard enough you crumble under his hips, hands pinned between his body and your ass. Even through the pillows the clap of skin on skin is deafening. One of his hands takes up the rough circles on your clit. The glide from arousal makes your blood thick.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wail. “Just like that, fuck!”

“Close?”

Nodding through the tears in your eyes, you let it rush on you. The old neighbors next door will complain tomorrow but you can’t control the lewd whines your boyfriend rips out of you as you cum on his cock. It burns worse than the first time, verging on blacking out your vision but you love it. Like a rubber band, you stretch your ends until it all snaps back, chest curled into the sheets. The cotton roughs your sore nipples but it makes you tighter on his cock.

“Cum inside me! Need it. Please Cheol, please daddy.”

Seungcheol swells inside you, two earth shaking thrust, and then a moan leaves you filled the way you crave.

“Jesus Christ,” you pant. Vision blurred, you only vaguely register your boyfriend’s hand stroking along your side while you come down. “I think you got me pregnant. Fuck.”

Seungcheol’s lips flit across your shoulder, slowly bringing himself back too. “Wouldn’t be mad about that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Now clean me up.” You demand with your nose in the air. “Next time you should call me daddy.”

“Next time I’ll use those cuffs Jeonghan gave me for Christmas.”

“Damn, you really are a freak.”

Happily, he drags you into the stall for the second shower of the night. Frigid streams sting on your skin but the bastard pouts his way into keeping you in his arms; shivering but full of sleepy smiles under his lips.

“You’re so mean to me!” You shriek, back arching away from the miserable cold tile he corners you into. It’s nice where your ass still stings but everything else blooms in gooseflesh. “This is no way to treat your wife!”

“We aren’t married, yet,” he hums. The edge of disappointment isn’t lost on you.

“And if you don’t want that ring to go to waste you’ll move over.”

Seungcheol sputters, “How’d you find it?”

“Baby,” you coo, cupping his face between wet hands. “You’re the least subtle man I know.”

“It’s not even in the house!”

“Your life will be so much better when you start believing I know everything.” Booping him on the nose, you smirk with glee. “And remember Mingyu gossips like an old lady.”

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#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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mismatched-sockss · 4 months

Text

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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f1fantasys · 4 months

Text

Missed You

Summary - basically Y/N and Lando smut 😈

Warnings - smut, phone sex, p in v sex, swearing.

''Hey Lan!'' you smile from ear to ear upon seeing your boyfriend appear on your phone screen.

''Hi baby, I miss you'' he cooed, settling himself into bed and smiling back at you.

He was currently in Belgium for the GP but you had to stay back in Monaco due to work. Yes you called and texted as much as you could, but this trip was turning about to be a difficult one. You both missed each other a lot.

''I miss you too, but just a few more days until I'm back in your arms'' you replied back.

''Yeah baby, few more days. What are you-'' he stopped short and took a deep breath in when he saw what you were wearing while your back was facing the screen.

You were sporting one of his Mclaren t-shirts that had his name and number at the back. He knew exactly which one too, because it had shrunk in the dryer and had become much smaller and shorter, which gave him the hottest view of your black lacy panties beeping through the bottom.

''Fuck Y/N, you can't tease me like that. Your back was still facing him as you were making a coffee. You smiled to yourself, knowing you would get this exact reaction from him.

You turned around, face innocent. ''I don't know what you're talking about.'' You smirked as you took a sip of your drink.

''As if' he cheekily said. ''Might as well give me a show since you started it.'' it sounded like he was begging.

''Hmmm, depends. What do I get in return?'' you asked.

''Well, for starters-'' he flipped his camera around, showing himself cupping his already painfully swollen dick, dripping with pre-cum.

''Yeah okay fine, phone sex it is'' you wasted no time in replying, already feeling the heat pooling between your legs.

''Forget your coffee darling, go to the bedroom.''

''Uh huh'' was all you could form, not able to get the image of his dick out of mind.

You climbed onto your bed and positioned your phone against one of the pillows.

''Lando'' you breathed. Your turn to sound like you're begging.

''Take your panties off, leave the t-shirt on'' he instructed, eyes glued to his screen.

You slid off your panties to reveal your soaking cunt, literally dripping with juices.

''What would you do if I was there? he asked.

You decided to tease him a bit. You looked at him with doe eyes and said ''Play with myself,'' sounding more serious than you intended to.

He raised his eyebrows ''Yeah? Is that really what you'd do?'' he teased.

You couldn't hold in your laugh. ''JK, I'd probably suck you off'' you said as you bought your fingers down and started touching yourself.

''Fuck baby, I want nothing more than to feel your mouth on me. Shit, wish I was there to swallow that all up.'' he almost whispered. ''Scoop it all up and taste it.'' he continued.

You did as you were told, collecting all your juices and bringing your finger up to your mouth, moaning when you tasted yourself.

By now Lando had also positioned himself so you could see all of him. He took his cock back in his hands and started pumping himself.

''That's it. Now play with yourself Y/N'' he instructed further.

You brought your hands back to your throbbing cunt and slid your finger through your folds, pinching at your clit and rubbing tiny circles against it.

You knew your fingers were nothing compared to his, but to watch him in complete awe at watching you touch yourself? That was something you could get used to.

''Wish you were here Lan, need to feel your rough fingers in me'' you said between breathes. The thought of that alone already bringing you closer to the edge.

''Soon baby, but now slide two fingers in, all the way up'' he just about managed to say, also reaching his peak quicker than expected.

You inserted two fingers at once and started pumping them in and out, not struggling at all due to your own lube of juices.

''Oh, fuck, yes'' you moaned, while cupping your boobs with your other hand and pinching your peaked nipples through the thin material of your t-shirt.

''I-I didn't tell you to do that, but fuck me that's hot, Y/N''

You could feel yourself almost tip at the edge as your walls started clenching around your fingers, movements getting sloppier by the second. Your thumb found your clit again and in seconds you came crashing down.

''Lan, oh my god'' you grunted through gritted teeth, easing your fingers down to ride your through your orgasm.

''Look at me'' he instructed again. By now his movements were also being eratic while he bit on his bottom lip. Suddenly you were horny all over again, so your fingers went back to pumping in and out of you, faster than before.

''Go on Lan, fuck'' you muttered.

''Could say the same thing about you. Sitting there playing with yourself, wishing it was my head between your legs. Fuck I'm so hard, you don't know what you're doing to me'' he grunted.

It didn't take long for you to reach your second orgasm, crying out his name at the stimulation but also trying to focus on him and what his hands were doing.

''I'm close. I'm gonna -'' and before he could finish he was painting his stomach white with sheets of cum. That sight alone could have killed you.

Both of you, unable to talk, just breathless, the look of pure bliss on your faces.

When you finally regained some coherent thoughts you wanted, not needed to see something.

''Lan, taste yourself, please'' know you were actually begging, wanting nothing more than to see him do it.

He smirked, ''that dirty little mouth of yours'', before coating his fingers in his splutter and licking them clean, moaning at the taste.

''Fuck Lando I'm wet again'', not even surprised you were. '''Need to feel you in me'' you pouted, as if he would magically appear in front of you, ready to thrust into you.

''Y/N to earth,'' he laughed. ''Get one of your toys'''he demanded.

Quickly, too quickly, you reached under the bed to find your small of of toys. ''Which one?'' you asked him, holding up a dildo in one hand and a vibrator in the other.

''Fuck, both. Start with the vibrator, and stake your top off. Let me see those pretty boobs'' he said, breathless again, cupping himself, again.

You wasted no time in turning it to the highest setting, bringing it down to slide it through your folds, keeping it there for a few minutes while you and Lando exchanged looks, grunts, moans, trying to get each other off again.

When he'd had 'enough' of the vibrator, he told you to switch to the dildo, and making you place your camera to a better view of your hole so he could properly see it pumping in and a out of you.

It was a large one, not as large as Lando's dick, but it would to the job. You slid it in in a single movement, then stayed still for a few seconds to adjust yourself to the size.

As the pleasure started to overtake the pain, you started a steady rhythm, thrusting it in and out of your cunt, eyes glued to watching Lando, mouth agape and fiddling with his balls as he was pumping his cock.

''That's it baby, but go faster, please. I'm not gonna last long watching you like this'' he begged you.

You increased your pace, fucking the dildo into yourself, grunts and moans leaving your mouth as your free hand pinched your nipples again.

'''Lan I can't, I-I-I'm gonna come'' and not 2 seconds later your body was shaking, blissfully fucked out, and your eyes closed and you heart Lando mutter a few 'fucks' while emptying himself out again.

''Fucking love you' he said as you both tried to calm down and get your breathing back to normal.

You smiled at him. ''Love you too, now please come home soon. I need you.''

''Soon baby.'' he said as you both fell into a deep slumber.

Race day was finally here and Lando secured a well-deserved P2. You watched your TV and he grinned like he was a kid who was at Disneyland. He really was the hottest but most adorable boy. He was finally coming home to you tomorrow, and you wanted to get a good nights sleep in because you were sure of it - as soon as he walked through those doors tomorrow - you were going to jump him. Show him how much you missed him.

As you were in a deep sleep you felt something shift next to you in the bed. Your eyes shot open with a fright and were met with the beautiful eyes of your boyfriend.

''Lando!'' you shrieked, sitting up and all but jumping into his arms. Partly forgetting you went to bed naked, so you were surprised when he swore and pulled back faster than you would have liked, and checked you out as he would his dream car.

''Fuck baby, best welcome home surprise ever'' he said, still gaping at your body.

''Well,' you started, 'I wasn't expecting you home so early'' you said, trying to cover yourself with the blanket. But of course he ripped it off of you and threw it on the floor.

He didn't even say anything. He just pushed to back down and hovered above you. Bringing his lips down to meet yours in a fiery kiss that had your toes curling.

''Missed you so much'' he whispered between the kisses as he let his tongue slide into your mouth and explore it.

''Show me how much'' you boldly said.

He quickly shimmied his body down yours and opened your legs, wasting no time in licking a strip up your cunt. You hadn't realized how wet you already were until he started sucking and the noises of your juices in combination with his mouth were somewhat obscene, feeling the graze of his beard scratching at your most sensitive parts.

''Fuck, Lando, please, need more'' you begged him.

''Patience, baby-girl. We have all night'' he smiled as he continues his slaughter.

Lando then quickly thrust two fingers into your cunt at once, giving you no time to react. And by now the noises leaving your mouth were nothing short of filthy.

''So fucking wet for me baby-girl. Were you that desperate for my touch?'' he asked. But you were too blissed out to answer, so you just nodded your head. Abruptly, his movements stopped and you whined.

''Lan, please'' but he stayed still. You opened your eyes to find his, boring into yours. ''Words, Y/N'''he said sternly.

''Fuck Lando. Always desperate for your touch'' you said through breathy moans. You gave him what he wanted to hear because it was true, you were so desperate for him.

In no time your body was trembling under Lando and you couldn't help but release your juices into his mouth, making him moan at the taste and sight of you.

''So delici-'' but before he could finish you cut him off, pushing him off of you and sitting up on your knees.

'''Need to taste you, please'' you all but begged, while he was just shocked at your quick turn around. But who was he to deny you anything.

Lando sat against the headboard as you pulled his boxers down to see his cock standing hard and tall, swollen, begging for attention. You took him in your hand and fondled with it, paying some attention to his balls too.

''Y/N, please. Fuck. Please''

You smirked with innocent eyes. ''Patience, we have all night.''

''You're trouble'' he mumbled before he felt you take the tip of him in your mouth. You swirled you tongue around, tasting his pre-cum, before sucking lightly. This made him jerk forward, involuntarily, almost hurting you in the process.

''Shit Y/N, are you okay?'' he asked, taking your face in his hands, worry evident in his eyes.

''Never better'' you said, pushing him back and continuing with your activities. This time, you took more of him in your mouth. As much as your could. Feeling him throb in your mouth.

Lando's hands found place in your hair, holding it back and also using it a leverage to fuck into your mouth.

In no time you were gagging, tears beginning to sting the corners of your eyes. You could also tell he was getting close because of the way his movements were getting sloppier by the second, and not to mention it sounded like a porno was happening in your room right now. Lando's moans and grunts, your mouth sounding sloppy with spit running down your body.

''Baby, as much as I wanna cum in your mouth, I need to be inside of you, like 5 minutes ago. Please.'' he begged.

You didn't need much convincing, quickly freeing his cock from your mouth and turning your body around, on your all fours.

Lando quickly got up, pumped himself a few times, and lined himself at your entrance.

He slid in with ease , both your moans long and breathless. Finally getting the feeling you've craved intensively for a while now.

He pulled back out and slammed into you again, wasting no time, setting a rough and fast pace. His balls were slapping against your body whenever he re-entered you.

''Fuck, Lando, please, harder, faster'' you begged him.

But Lando was truly in his own world, with one goal in mind - fucking you harder than every before. He hand slapped your ass a few times as once again, the noise of your bodies slamming together, moans and grunts filling the room.

You hoped your neighbors weren't home, sure they could hear what was going on. But within a second you secretly hoped they were, so the could hear how good Lando was making you feel.

Lando pulled your body back now now you were just on your knees, putting all of your weight on Lando. His hands massaged your boobs as he started nibbling at your neck, marking you as his, leaving bruises for sure, all the while fucking into you from behind.

''M'close'' you muttered and with no warning your orgasm came upon you. Legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up and Land snaked his arms around you.

''I know you have a lot more in you. Taking me so fucking well. That's it, keep going'' he whispered in your ear. To no surprise, you came again, and again. Pussy aching for sure, but also not getting enough of Lando, who was now chasing his own release.

He pulled out and climbed off the bed, flipping you on your back and dragged your body to the edge, now able to pound into you from this new angle, which was reaching all the right places within in die to the force he was using.

''Lan, please, no more'' you begged.

''One more angel, with me, please.'' he panted as he brought his lips down to your in an assuring kiss, before lowering his mouth again and sucking on your nipples, biting at them harshly.

Your hands now playing and pulling at his curls.

Now he was getting frisky and sloppy, at the edge of release, as you felt yourself let go, crying out his name.

''Holy fuck Y/N'' was all he said as he came in your cunt. Sheets of warm splutter, literally filling you to the brink.

Lando's own body threatening to quiver, he pulled out of you, both of you moaning at the loss of contact. But seeing his cum drip out of your pussy bit by bit, he couldn't help but scoop some in his mouth and eventually spit it into your own mouth.

He collapsed onto you, kissing you with no urgency but just a lazy, slow make out session and you pulled him as close as possible, not wanting to let go.

After a while though, the stickiness between you was drying up, so Lando got up to get a warm cloth to wipe you both down before climbing into bed with you and pulling you close. Both exhausted and fucked out to even say anything but ''I love you.''

When you woke the next morning it took you a second to remember why you were aching down there. But then you felt his arm slide around your body and pull you closer, and all the memories came flooding back.

You couldn't help but smile as you turned around to see Lando beaming at you.

''Morning baby'' he said, rather loudly.

''Good morning Lan, but why the fuck are you talking so loudly and why are you smiling like that? you exclaimed.

''Errrr, just happy to have you back in my arms, that's all.'' he said as he pecked your nose.

''Likewise, Lan. I really missed you this time round'' you said, kissing him on the lips, hard.

''Sooooo, shower?'' he asked.

''As much as i want to, I'm so sore Lando. You really did a number on me last night!''

''Just shows you how much of an effect you have on me babe.''

''Yeahhhh, but still. I love you, but go shower by yourself, because I'm not sure I can even walk right now.''

''Then my work here is done.'' he said, climbing out of bed, leaving you scoffing.

He walked to the bathroom, butt-naked, before disappearing in it. You watched in awe. His messy curls. His toned body. His morning scruff. His morning wood, standing hard and tall. Heat already pooling between your legs.

Not 2 seconds later and he popped his head out.

''You coming?'' he asked, quite seriously.

And you couldn't have jumped out of bed faster even if you wanted to.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando smut #norris smut #lando norris smut

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oizysian · 1 month

Note

hello, hope you are doing well and do you still take requests? if yes can i request top!wanda x beffy!gp!bottom!nat x switch! reader where nat was approached and flirted with by some woman so wanda and r decide to show nat who she belongs to. no pressure tho, i understand if you're not comfortable writing it.

i've also just finished reading the mafia!au and omg that is a masterpiece. hope there will be another chapter soon. 🙏🏻

You Belong to Us | Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Natasha has a cock, talks of breeding, edging, blowjobs, ejaculating strap, threesome

Word count: 1.9k

“Do you know why you’re in this position?”

Natasha nodded, her face red with embarrassment as she lay exposed before us, her hands and feet bound, keeping her still on the bed.

“Words, malyshka.” Wanda said and I looked over at her, smiling at how she cared despite how heated up she was over how that woman acted towards Nat in the bar.

“Yes, I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s much too late for ‘sorry.’ But you already knew that.”

Natasha’s eyes fell to the strap in Wanda’s hand, the big, girthy one she only used when we disobeyed her. I watched as Nat’s dick twitched with arousal, and licked my lips excitedly, knowing Wanda would let me play with her soon enough.

“You shouldn’t have let that nasty woman touch you like that.” Wanda said sternly as she stepped into the harness, pulling it up and securing it around her hips. “You know you belong to us.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her eyes downcast. “I thought she was only being nice.”

“You thought she was being nice.” Wanda said condescendingly, grabbing the lube from the nightstand and pouring a generous amount into her hand. “What did you think, Y/N?”

“I thought she was trying to fuck you.” I directed towards Nat and Wanda nodded in agreement, lathering the cock on her hips up with the lube in her palm.

“Please,” Natasha pleaded, her dick nearly fully standing at attention now. “I wouldn’t have let her -”

“Oh, but you did, Natalia.” Ooh, Wanda only used that name when she was upset. “You did let her. I saw how she was stroking your arm,” she got on the bed in between Natasha’s legs. “I saw her eyeing your dick.”

“Wanda, I-”

“Shh,” she said as she stroked her length teasingly, getting ready to fuck her ass. “You can only make it up to me by cumming inside of me. But, that won’t be until later. You need to be punished first.”

She brought the tip of the cock to her hole, pushing it in inch by inch ever so slowly. I watched as Natasha’s face contorted with pleasure, a soft moan falling from her lips.

“Wanda,” I said softly as her hips began moving. “May I play with her cock?”

“Yes, you may, Y/N. “

I hopped onto the bed excitedly, sitting next to Natasha’s bound form and wrapping my hand around her cock, spreading her precum along her length. Her hips attempted to buck towards my hand, but she was tied down to the bed, Wanda having most of the control of her body at this point.

Wanda fucked her slowly, letting her get adjusted to her thickness before rutting her hips against her faster, more urgently than before. Natasha called out for Wanda, her chest heaving, her nipples hard and aching to be touched, but Wanda ignored her, biting her lower lip and fucking her lover deeply.

“I want her inside me.” I whined. “Can I fuck myself on her, mommy?”

“Oh, fuck, yes you can.” Wanda panted, gripping Nat’s hips and pounding into her.

I straddled her, raising myself above her cock so I could position her at my entrance. Natasha moaned lowly as I sunk down onto her length, bouncing myself on her hips as Wanda fucked her ass.

“Oh god!” She cried out, tugging on the binds that kept her hands attached to the headboard.

I leaned forward and grabbed her breasts, groping them greedily as I rode her.

“Unh, oh fuck,” I groaned, rubbing myself against her as I slammed my hips down on her own. “I’m so close.”

“Don’t let her cum yet,” Wanda said to me and I nodded mindlessly, slapping Natasha’s tit and taking pleasure in her torture. “We’re gonna use her all night.”

“Oh, please, Wanda!” Natasha cried. “Mommy, please!”

“Keep begging,” she said with a smile. “I love hearing you beg for me.”

Natasha threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut and letting her mouth fall open.

I brought my right hand down and played with my clit, rubbing it so I could cum before Natasha. I squeezed her cock as I came, but pulled off of her before she could cum herself.

“No, Y/N! Please, baby, let me cum inside you.” She begged but I shook my head, looking down at her painfully erect cock, wet with my juices.

“Mommy said no. Right mommy?” I looked back at Wanda who was still pounding her own cock into Natasha’s ass and she nodded.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl listening to mommy.”

Natasha groaned, her voice rising with every stroke of Wanda’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum inside you.” Wanda said as she reached for the balls of the strap, getting ready to squeeze her load into Natasha. “I’m gonna breed you like the bitch you are.”

Natasha cried out pathetically as Wanda let her cum spurt into her ass, droplets of cum beading up on the tip of her cock. I could tell she was close, but mommy said she couldn’t cum. Not yet.

Wanda pulled her sticky cock out of Natasha’s ass, smiling down at the gaping hole, still hungry for her.

“You enjoy being bred, don’t you, Natalia?”

She nodded mindlessly, tears building up in her eyes.

“You love being my cumdump, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, mommy.”

Wanda looked over at me and beckoned me over to her. I climbed over Natasha on all fours and approached Wanda, who grabbed me by my chin and kissed me hard. I moaned into her mouth and she sucked on my tongue. When she finally released me, I was panting, needing more of her.

“Play with Tasha some more.” She said to me, leaning back on the bed and slipping out of the harness. “I want to watch.”

She tossed the toy to the side and spread her legs, playing with her own clit as I returned my attention to Natasha. She lay panting, sweating, as I crawled back over to her and played with her cock again. She let out a low moan and I stroked her ever so slightly, just enough for her to feel me but not enough for her to cum.

“Please.” She begged softly, turning her head to look at Wanda who was still playing with herself.

I brought my head down and took the tip into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. I heard her crying out, begging for release as I took more of her in my mouth. When she began to twitch against my tongue, I pulled away from her, my spit and cum trailing from my lips to her throbbing tip.

“Oh god, please,” she begged, her hips jerking upward. “Please let me cum.”

I looked back towards Wanda and she shook her head, her hand working on her bundle of nerves. I licked my lips and laid down in front of her, my ass in the air, in full view for Natasha, as I ate Wanda out hungrily.

I heard Natasha moan as she watched us, my tongue and lips working tirelessly on Wanda’s puffy pussy. I felt her thread her fingers through my hair and push my face into her sopping cunt, which only egged me on further.

“Oh, yes, baby.” She moaned softly. “Lick mommy’s cunt. Just like that. You’re doing so good for mommy.”

I hummed against her, letting my tongue slip inside her.

She let her head fall back and she rolled her hips against my face. I could feel her clenching around my tongue so I knew she was close. I added two fingers into her wetness and sucked on her clit and she came screaming my name, forcing my face into her cunt roughly as she rode out her high on my fingers and tongue.

Natasha watched us, her breathing shallow, drool cascading down her chin, her body trembling, aroused beyond belief.

Wanda pet my head, humming softly as she pulled me away from her, watching as I licked my lips greedily, not letting a drop of her go to waste.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. Not like Natalia. She’s a bad girl.”

“Please, Wanda, I’m sorry. Please let me cum.”

“Are you sorry?” She said as she scratched my head, making me feel good.

“Yes, I swear!”

“Hmm.” She said as I laid down next to Natasha, bringing my hand up to play with her nipples. “We’ll see.”

Wanda brought her leg around to straddle Natasha, grabbing her cock rather roughly and bringing it to her wetness. As she eased herself down, Natasha’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she let out a deep, throaty moan. She wouldn’t last very long with Wanda.

Wanda rolled her hips, alternating between bouncing on her cock and grinding down on her hips before Natasha let out a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Ask me to cum.” Wanda demanded, not stopping her movements against the other woman.

“Please let me cum! Please, Wanda, I’m sorry!”

Wanda got off on the power she had over us and I knew she was close when her brow furrowed and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. I leaned forward and took one of Natasha’s nipples in my mouth, reaching over with my hand to play with the other.

“That’s right, Y/N, play with her. She’s gonna cum inside me, aren’t you, Natalia?”

“Yes, mommy! I-I��m gonna cum!”

And she did. I could see the cum spurting out from between their bodies and Wanda let out a high pitched whine at the feeling of Natasha’s cum pumping into her. Wanda’s pussy milked her cock for all it was worth and I continued to play with Natasha’s breasts as she came.

Natasha’s head was back against the pillows, her eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape. She was absolutely blissed out.

“Mm, you’re still twitching inside me, Natalia. You’re a greedy pup, aren’t you? You want mommy to keep milking you?”

“Yes.” She croaked and Wanda smiled, satisfied.

“Y/N,” she called to me and I lifted my head to look at her. “Why don’t you ride Natalia’s face, hm? If I’m gonna get more out of her, she has to work for it.”

Giddily, I released her nipples and climbed up to her face, sitting myself right onto her opened, waiting mouth.

She lapped at my heat greedily, hungrily, and I had to hold onto the headboard to keep my balance.

“Mommy,” I moaned, throwing my head back. “She’s doing s-so good.”

“Is she?” Wanda asked, slamming her hips down against Natasha’s as she fucked her.

I felt Nat moan against me, her tongue fucking me, her lips attaching to my clit and sucking, my mind going numb from the pleasure. I was going to cum.

My hips jerked as pleasure overtook me. I threw my head back and moaned for Wanda. Natasha groaned underneath me before letting out a whimpering moan, her cum coating the inside of Wanda’s cunt once again.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Wanda said as she played with her clit, bouncing on Natasha’s cock.

It was only a second later that Wanda came, milking Natasha and rubbing her clit to heighten her pleasure.

I rolled off of Nat, kissing and licking her lips as she panted softly next to me. She grunted and groaned as Wanda’s hungry cunt continued to milk her, and when she finally got off of her cock, they had made a mess of each other and the bed.

“Looks like you’ve learned your lesson, Natalia.”

She nodded weakly, happily spent.

“Now we have to clean up after you. What a mess.”

#oizysian writes #anon ask #anon answered #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #wanda x natasha

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nouvxllev · 6 months

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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itsjusthockey · 10 months

Text

Knight in Shining Armani - Juraj Slafkovsky

he's so boyfriend. Enjoy

send in requests. pls and thx

warnings: slightly suggestive?????

w.c: 1,426 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)

You don’t smoke, not at all. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever even tried nicotine sober. However, in this very moment, you crave a cigarette, or something, anything, to distract you from the current hell you’re in.

You’ve always enjoyed charity galas with the team. They’re something to look forward to. They’re classy; they support a good cause, have great food, better drinks, and usually decent company. However, sometimes, at these events, you get unlucky, and tonight was one of those particular nights.

You’re seated at a lovely table with a few wives and girlfriends and directly next to a pretty blonde woman you’ve never met. She’s clad in a red dress, her lips painted to match, and she’s eyeing the room like a predator watching her prey.

You have to check yourself as you watch her a bit. You’re not one to throw judgment at someone you don’t know, but something about the way she’s watching the room sets your stomach a bit on edge.

The edge sets a bit deeper when you notice her stare lands on a familiar back, one you know all too well.

“Do you know who he is?” She suddenly asks you. “He’s insanely sexy.”

She points toward the center of the room, and you follow her stare back to your boyfriend. He’s standing tall in the center of the room, clad in an all-black ensemble that fits perfectly in all the correct places. He looks otherworldly as he smiles and throws his head back in laughter at something Arber says. He is absolutely gorgeous, and the fed woman beside you is right; he does look insanely sexy. However, you’re not particularly fond of anyone else in the world thinking that, but you

You must’ve stayed quiet for a bit too long because she raises an eyebrow and leans a bit closer to you, clearly waiting for an answer.

“That’s Juraj.” You finally say.

She hums and repeats his name softly to you, then leans in closer as if she’s going to tell you a secret.

“I came with someone else.” Her eyes dart back to your boyfriend. “But I wouldn’t mind finding myself under him at the end of the night.”

As she finishes her statement, she lets out a laugh, and you feel yourself grip your champagne glass tight. You shouldn’t be mad; you’re incredibly secure in your relationship, but that ugly feeling continues to grow.

“You don’t agree?” She asks.

You realize you’ve been silent, not offering her anything. You’re unsure how to approach this situation, but you also know you should shut it down.

“I do,” you smile toward her. “But he’s taken.”

A brief, annoyed look flashes over the women’s eyes. “By who?”

You throw on your sweetest smile and bat your lashes toward her.

“By me.”

The second that slips out of your mouth, her eyes widen in surprise, and then they shrink a bit, looking you up and down.

(Y/N).” You rip your eyes away from her hard stare and draw your attention toward a wife. “Your boy looks incredible tonight. Arbs said you picked out the suit? Gucci, was it?”

“Armani.” You state, glancing back toward your boyfriend, hoping he hears your telepathic plea to come save you.

A few of the other wives and girlfriends hum, signaling their approval of your masterful suit-picking skills, and you feel a rush of pride swell through you.

“Yes. He certainly looks dashing.” The blonde speaks up again, her eyes dragging up and down your boyfriend’s figure from behind.

You don’t think of yourself as a jealous person, but you’re not stupid. You don’t miss how she looks at the man you’re in love with. You also don’t miss the subtle lip bite in his direction and the slight glare she gives you. You resist the edge to roll your eyes. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and try to focus on any other conversation.

You’ve finally integrated yourself elsewhere when a hand gently taps your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. You turn quickly to see Juraj’s gorgeous smile and bright eyes beaming down at you.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leans down to your ear, whispering. “Can I steal you away?”

You resist the urge to throw yourself into his arms and demand he take you home. Instead, you smile and nod, excusing yourself from the table with a smile. You begin to be swept away, Juraj's hand gently on your waist, when you throw one last look toward your table. The woman you’ve come to dislike slightly is staring hard, and you give her a slight smirk. You simply can’t help yourself.

Juraj leads you away from the crowd to a small, cozy corner. He quickly traps you between his body and the wall, gently brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Are you having fun?” His eyes are genuinely curious as he asks.

“Yes.” You slightly lie. “But I’d be much happier if we were home in bed.”

He smiles a wide smile and gently brings his head down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. It’s quick, and when you meet his eyes again, you see they’re filled with nothing but love and adoration.

“Are you tired?” He searches your face. “If you’d like to go to bed, we can leave. I’ve done all the required mingling.

You move your hands up to his lapels, gently smoothing them up and down and then gently patting his firm chest.

“When I said being at home in bed,” you shift your gaze up to his eyes with your best doe-eyed stare. “I didn’t mean actually sleeping.”

You see a million emotions shift through his eyes and face, and within a second, he places his lips on yours again, this time and a little more urgently. Your lips move in sync for a few seconds before he pulls away, grabbing your chin to meet his eyes again.

“Let’s say our goodbyes.” You notice his eyes are a few shades darker. “I’m taking you home.”

He leads you away from your secluded corner, dragging you to say your goodbyes. The farewells are short and sweet, everyone oblivious to how fast Juraj pulls you around. In mere minutes, you’re in the safety of your car, and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, admiring the man beside you. It’s honestly annoying how perfect he is. Even his side profile is envious, and with the passing city lights illuminating him wonderfully, it’s taking everything in you not to jump him.

He must notice this because he drives a little faster and places his hand on your thigh. You are nearly breathless as he gently smooths your skin under his touch, and even though your thoughts are far from pure, you can’t help but let your heart swell with love.

You finally arrive at his apartment, and you run for the elevator, hoping the ride is short. It is, and when you finally make it to his apartment, you almost want to die.

Juraj, however, is nothing but a patient man. As soon as you enter, he drops to his knees and gently taps your heel. You smile the sweet smile and lift your foot, watching in awe as he undoes the tiny buckle, pulls off the shoe, places a small kiss on your leg, and then moves on to the next one.

When he finally finishes your shoes, he gets up, moving you back to your earlier position, trapped between him and the wall. His eyes are blown a bit, and the smell of his cologne makes you more buzzed than any of the change you’ve had tonight.

You finally make your move, pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it far away from you. He smiles and picks you up effortlessly, his hand gently resting on your ass. He gives it a small squeeze as he leads you to the bedroom, tossing you on the bed as you shriek out with laughter.

Juraj is a patient man, but even he has his limits. When he climbs on top of you, watching as you undo his shirt buttons, he’s quick to lean down and begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck. He continues his assault when you finally finish the buttons, tugging his shirt. He pulls it off, and you almost gasp. He truly is sculpted by the gods, and you can’t help but stare.

“Are you too tired, my love?” He asks, knowing the answer.

You shake your head rapidly, pulling him down on top of you.

“Not in the slightest.”

#hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #juraj slafkovsky #juraj slafkovsky x reader #jurag slafkovsky imagine #montreal canadiens #nhl blurb #nhl players #nhl #nhl fic #arber xhekaj

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feyascorner · 8 months

Text

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it.

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back. Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot.

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @aelieknox @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @bitterbeanren Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3 #angst

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yuyu1024 · 9 months

Text

Prisoner

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, unprotected sex, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kinks, Smoking [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3.0k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 🫶🏻

Check pinned post for more

***

The sound of the wedding bells and the people cheering for your union are still ringing in your ears. You could also still envision your friends and families' warmest smiles and tearful hugs as they congratulate you. Everyone is so happy. They kept on saying that your wedding is the most magical and happiest they've ever seen.

Yes. Your wedding is the grand. The whole castle like church is filled with the whitest flowers that gives an illusion of the place is floating in clouds. You could also see shiniest silvers and krystals all over the place. It felt unreal.

You requested for a simple wedding but you are given more than that and you love it.

The wedding is also filled with people you both love and cherish. So you feel comfortable and loved all through out the ceremony and the party afterwards.

Yes. The wedding is amazing.

Yes. The wedding is to die for.

Yes. The wedding is like a fantasy.

It's because it is... it is a fantasy and no where near reality.

It is only for show to make people believe that you and the man you married is real.

Little did everyone know, your marriage is just arranged. You were just handpicked by the groom because he had no other option. He didn't like the women his parents are suggesting. So he decided to himself to pick someone from the ground and carry to his world. A world filled with darkness and resentment. A very, very, very cold world.

"Miss..." a voice echoes waking you up from your daydream

You slowly open your eyes to see the barely lit room that you are still in. You get up from leaning onto the edge of the bathtub and see your personal maid near the door. Her head lowered not making eye contact with you. She's holding your towel and bathrobe.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But Master asked for dinner to be served soon...he's on his way home."

You look down at your hands peeking from the warm milky water and then pick up the rose petals floating on it. "He's early today..." you mumble quietly

"I heard that the meeting with his father, Mr. Min finished early..."

"I wonder why..." you got up from the bath. She immidiately rush towards you, handing you the towel and bathrobe to use.

"Mr. Min told Master to go home early... because of you Miss..."

"Ah... really..." there is no hint of excitement in your voice. "You can leave now and help them prepare... I'll get ready myself..." you tell the maid, who is still not having any eye contact with you.

You don't sound happy nor sad. Actually, you do sound like a robot with no feelings when you talk.

You were not like this before. Yes you are a quiet person, an introvert and reserved but never like this. You changed quite a lot after getting married. It's not by choice. You just have to adapt with your surroundings.

Living in a big ass mansion with more than fifty staffs and bodyguards but no one to talk to. You have no one to spend your time but yourself. Your world became, quiet.

Yes you do have a husband. You married him. But the man is never home most of the time. And when he is, he does not even make conversations with you unless it's related to his parents; asking you to do this and that. To be present here and there. Telling you what to say and not to talk about. Basically, he only talks to you when its about your deal. Yes, deal.

Funny isn't? You married bound by a contract but that's it. Just by contract. No love is involved.

You know this since the beginning. You signed the marriage certificate plus the contract. You are aware. But you never thought that this will be the kind of life you will have. Alone. But what choice do you have? He offered your parents a huge amount of money for your hands. A money that could let them live a good life even when they retire early. That's how big it is.

And you agreed to it, not because of the money, but because you thought; that maybe, just maybe this is the universe's doing. Him and you meeting under this circumstances but then in the end, getting to know each other and that Maybe...... maybe learn to love each other. But you're wrong. You and Yoongi have been married for more than a year now and its already had taken a toll on you emotionally and physically.

"Miss... Master is just a few minutes away..."

You pause brushing your hair, staring at yourself through the full body mirror. You are wearing the plain black, fitted halter dress that you received as a gift from him. You like this dress because it emphasizes your figure and shows off a little skin because of the slit. He gifted you this dress during your honeymoon. It's probably the cheapest clothing you have in your closet but for you this is the most valuable.

"Do you want me to fix your hair, Miss?"

You put down your hair brush. "No thank you."

Then you sit down and start to put on your shoes. But instead of heels, you put your white canvas shoes.

"Ahm, no heels today, Miss?" She sounds a bit concern

"No." You stand up to look at yourself one last time before going. "My feet hurts so I'll wear something comfy for now..."

"I understand." She hurriedly puts down the heels she had on hand and runs after me.

It is true that your feet is hurting. You've been wearing heels everyday when you go to work. 'Work' meaning is socializing with your husband's family friends and circle. You represent him for charities and parties he can't and won't attend. It's not everyday but these past few weeks, you've been busy. You were away too most of the days of the week. That's why you also barely saw your husband. He's been away for a week and when he came back you got busy too. And tonight, this is the first time you'll be eating dinner with him.

"Tell him to reschedule... I won't be available tomorrow. I have other plans."

You hear him talking to the phone when you enter the dinning room. He's so focused that he didn't even bat an eye when you sit down across him.

"What do you prefer, Miss?" The male servant asks. "We have tender lamb chops braised in wine. Served with pea puree and then wild sea bass with sautéed smoked bacon, red chicory, runner beans and red wine sauce."

"The latter, please..." You try to give a smile to show appreciation but then you halt as you hear your husband slam his phone on the table. It starlted you a bit.

And also, up to now he still hasn't dared to look at you. He just went on to eating his lamb after his phone call.

You want to watch him eat or even glance at him every now and then, just so you could update his image from your memory. You just want to see him, Even just a tiny bit silhouette of his face behind the boquet of flowers between the two of you.

'Fuck.' You curse in your mind.

You always ask yourself why do you even bother wanting to see him or make conversation with him when you know you don't mean anything to him. For him, you are just one of his staff. The only difference is that he talks to about life when he wants to because its part of your business with him. And to add to that, you're only his 'woman' when he needs to release stress. Meaning you two have sex when he needs it. There is no date or time. When he calls you or he comes to your room unannounced, that's it. Saying no is not an option.

But come to think of it, the last time you two had sex was quite a long time ago. It's been months.

'Does this mean... even in sex... he's not satisfied with me? Did he looked for a different woman to do it with?' You talk to yourself

"Leave us." He orders to the servants.

You didn't dare to glance up. You just kept yourself occupied by poking the fish on your plate.

"Your hair got longer..." he says making you pause

Your eyes goes up and see him looking straight at you."Ah... yes..." You answer before looking back down.

"Why ask for the fish if you're not going to eat it?"

You raise your head up again, "hmm?"

He tosses his one up like it's water. "Someone reported to me that you've been eating less lately."

"My appetite is fine... I'm just...off a bit..."

You put down your fork and try to think before you speak again. You can tell him you're tired because how can you be? You have all the assistant you need and more. Plus you are living a lavish life. You could ask for a massage, a facial or swim in the pool whenever you want. You have everything. Except him.

That. You can't mention. You can't dare ask for his attention. He'll get mad. You know he will. He said it in the very beginning of this relationship. That 'You are just his wife in papers. And never expect something more from him.'

"I'll be fine..."

You look straight back at him. You can finally see him clearly. He slightly moved to the side, giving you an amazing view of his face. He's still look as beautiful as you remember. His long hair, sharp eyes, pinkish lips and the scar.

"How's the auction?" He pulls out a cigarette from the pack he have on the table and lights it off. "You bought a vintage jewelry?"

"I did."

"How much is it?" He puffs smoke. His eyes are still fixated to you.

"It's a bit expensive... I'm sorry." You look down at your knotted fingers. "I got it for 1.5M."

"Reasonable."

"I tried to intimidate the other wives... but it didn't work..."

"You need to work on that."

"I will."

"But don't worry about the money... it's going to a good cause..." He stands up and puts off his cigarette on his used plate. "My mother liked the the jewelry set. She said, thank you."

Relief fills your heart and made you relax a bit. You are thankful that his mother liked the one you picked.

It's the only one you bought in the auction. The event is for charity and Yoongi gave you the go signal to throw money like dimes. He said you can buy anything you want.

You liked a lot of things there. Everything is grand, beautiful, meaningful and unique. But none of them bring joy to you. You don't need them so your heart can't afford to splurge.

"I'll go and get ready for bed..." he says as he stand by the window, looking outside.

"Ah... okay..." you look down at your plate and pick up your fork, to continue eating.

"When you finish..." he starts to walk towards the door, "Come to my room."

"Hmm?" You blink, confused. "Your... room?"

He stops just as he got outside the door and adds before totally closing the door "Ask the maid to braid your hair..."

'Braid your hair'. That means he wants to have sex.

"Sure..." you answer in a whisper though he's already not in the room.

***

You are finally walking in the hallway, on the way to his room. Barefoot and naked. Almost naked.

It has been a routine of you to braid your long hair and then just wear a silk robe over to cover your body. He likes it this way. He have particular things he likes and you follow them.

It's almost 9pm. All the staffs are now in their houses. Yoongi asked them to leave earlier so no one could hear and disturb us.

You took a deep breathe before you get ready to knock on his door. But then to your surprise the double door swings open and you see him, in his black jogger pants and a sheer robe over his naked body. "What took you so long?" His brows are furrowed.

"Sorry..." you lower your gaze from his beautiful face to his toned body.

"Get in." He orders, turning his back on you.

You slowly enter the forbiden room. It's like how you imagine it to be; spacious, dark and earth tone colors everywhere. But the things you've never imagined seeing in there are towers of books and comics on the floor. Then there is a gaming area too.

"Do you play?" He asks as he sits down at the corner of his massive bed.

You shake your head, "No... I'm sorry."

He's smoking again. "Come here." He orders as he puff the smoke in betwern his lips. You move closer to him, cautiously. "Why do you look nervous? It's not like it's our first time."

You are now standing in between his legs. "Sorry..."

He rolls his eyes slightly as he puts his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Why do you keep on apologizing?"

"I..." you pause and wait for him to look back at you. "I don't know."

He snorts, "whatever."

He takes off his robe and throws it somewhere behind you. You were about to do the same as his but he stops your hand from untying your robe.

"Are you on birth control?"

You shake your head. "No... we... I mean... you use condom..."

He didn't say anything after that. He just continued; picks up your braided hair thats lying on your chest and pushes it away. Your breathing picks up as you could feel and see him gazing at you. You even felt your body jerk a little when his finger tip brushed over your hard nipple. The sensation is on max. You needed him to touch you. You missed him touching you.

Yes, this relationship may not be real for him but to you, it's something. Plus, we all have our needs. And when it comes to sex, he delivers. More than you can imagine. And you like playing along with his needs.

He pulls the string keeping your robe on you and just watch it fall off your skin like feather.

You feel your cheeks heat up. You are exposed. He can see that you are already turned on. Your breast giving it all away.

"Come closer..." he orders and you follow.

His hands slides over your hips then goes up to your torso, for him to hold on to you. Hug you. He begins to suck one of your boobs like a baby. His eyes are fully close and his grasping onto your skin like he had been so hungry for so long. He's really enjoying it.

You as well.

"Ahh..." you exhale as you throw your head back. His tongue doing all the works and tickling your insides by just playing at your tip.

After a few more seconds, he stops and looks up at you. And you looking down at him.

"You're so beautiful..." you whisper to him as you run your fingertips over the scar on his face.

You lower your head to meet his lips. He welcomed your kiss like it was meant to be there five minute ago overdue. He is into it more than usual.

He finally gets naked like you. His length is hard and up. It's already leaking and looked very inviting for you to sit on. But you're too shy to make the first move.

You did try to sit on his lap though, legs spread out and core is so wet and ready; just a few inches away for his throbbing length. Then his hand goes in between and starts to rub you in the most sensual way possible.

"Holy shit!" You gasps breaking off from the kiss for a second just to take it all in.

A smug on his face can be seen catching you off guard. He had never reacted to you reacting to his touches like this before.

Your hips begin to rock just to feel his fingers on you.

"Y/n..." You look at him after hearing him say your name. "No condom today."

"O-okay..."

"Make me feel good." He says softly but sturn, pulling you close to his length.

The tip touching your opening already made you roll your eyes. He's so warm and big.

"F-fuck!" You cry as he eases himself into you. "Holy shit! Ugh!"

You start to move slowly, feeling it all in you, finding the pace and ryth. you think you could do all night but at the same time make him satisfied.

"You got tighter." He grunts as you go up and down on him while holding on to his shoulder for balance support.

"Holy fuck!" Your eyes starts to get filled with tears. You found your spot and his length is hitting it perfectly. "Fuck!"

You watch him close his eyes and his face showing how good you're making him feel. His broes is furrowed and his mouth open and hissing tiny breathes with you.

You can't believe it. Someone like you who was inexperience with sex, is now married and making your man look so damn sexy moaning.

"I'm gonna come." He hugs you tigh and begins to kiss you again. "I want to come in you." He opens his eyes and meets yours.

"Fucking come in me." You say

He then carries you as he stands up, changing your positions. Now you're the one on the bed and he's on top of you.

"I will rip you apart." He snarls.

Every fucking thrust is mean and yet satisfying. You feel like your insides shuffled from every hit. But it's not pain. It's heaven.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he climaxes with you.

The warmth inside you feels like a warm blanket during winter. It's felt relaxing.

He is breathing heavily, your hands are intertwined and his still on top and inside of you.

"Yoongi..." you say breathlessly as you admire him over you.

He moves in for a kiss. A soft gentle kiss. "Stay with me tonight..."

*****

Part 2

#yuyu1024 #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi #min yoongi #bts angst #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts yoongi smut #fem reader #smut #fanfix

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anyarose011 · 5 months

Text

Bah, Humbug! {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Realizing you are stuck over winter break in the school your father (with many nicknames such as: Rat Bastard, Colossal Asshole, or the most popular, Walleye) teaches at, you try to make the best of it. Or, at least the best you can make it with five other boys your age

Part 1 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, feminism (abandon all hope ye who enter if this has to be a warning), sarcastic reader, Teddy Kountze, and casual racism (a subsection to Teddy Kountze)

You've heard of "Paul Hunham being a father figure" now I present to you: "Paul Hunham being a girl-dad and an academic rivals to lovers with Angus Tully". I became obsessed with this movie, and decide to add my own spin onto it. It's also my first time writing for Tumblr, so I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4.8k

youtube

“You said we were going to Copenhagen this year.”

The first nine words you said to your father after he told you about the predicament the both of you were in. He sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I know.” You haven’t heard him trying to be this understanding since…you couldn’t recall. “I don’t want to be stuck here just as much as you-.”

“-So then just say no.”

He scoffed, yet still smiled. “It’s a stupid lottery, and my name got picked.”

“Bullshit-.”

“-Hey.” He warned.

Sighing, you glanced out your window. Thin specks of snow were falling onto the already pure as white ground, cascading down the roofs of houses. At least it was snowing and would resemble somewhat of a nice Christmas.

“Can we at least do something fun?” You questioned.

“I thought you said men don’t deserve to have fun the same way they think women don’t deserve rights?”

“Do the boys you teach think the same?” You looked at him.

He shrugged. “Not really in my field of work to get to know them.”

“Wonderful.” You rolled your eyes.

Your father squeezed your shoulder. “Yes, we can have little activities that children your age would consider fun. Still, I vow to enhance their intellect and schoolwork, considering that most of them are…lackluster.”

“Does this mean that I’ll get to drag their asses in mythology trivia?”

“In colloquial terms, yes.”

That brought a smile to your face, and you got up from your bed. “I think I’ll make dinner tonight if that’s alright?” You didn’t wait for him to answer as you left the room. “Maybe pie? I know Mary taught me-.”

“-Woah, woah, woah.” He followed you out into the hallway, stopping you. “We’re not eating here.”

You blinked, the only sound forming from your throat being. “Huh?”

He sighed as if going to tell you the worst news in the world (at the time, oh boy, was it). “They’re cutting the power to the faculty housing, so we’re going to be living at the school over winter break.”

Your face drops along with your heart, shock settling in. “Say that again?”

“We’re going to be living at the school-.”

“-No I heard you.”

“Then why did you ask me to repeat myself?”

“You’re telling me,” you bring on the drama, raising your voice. “I have to lodge with teenage boys?! The cursed sex?!”

He sighed. “You won’t be sleeping in the same room as them-.”

“-I can’t even look at you right now.” You pushed past him, going back into your room and tossing yourself onto your bed.

“Countess Natalya,” he taunts tiredly, knowing you hope your melodramatic attitude would wear him down. “we don’t have a choice.”

You point at him, not bringing your face up from your pillow. “Don’t you dare bring Natasha into this, she would react the same way!”

He laughed. “You get your stubbornness from your mother.”

“I get it from my father!” That’s what made you turn and bring your head up.

There’s a silence with tenseness lacing it like icing on a cake. Paul Hunham’s sigh of frustration broke it, approaching you. “Whether we like it or not, we’re stuck here. Whether we like it or not, we’re going to have to endure the attitude of pubescent boys who, I guarantee you, even when their frontal lobes form at twenty-five, will still be inconsiderate, full of themselves, and not know what true hard work is…We don’t get to do things we want all the time, that’s the reality of the situation.”

You still wore the same, spiteful look on your face as he told you this; as if you were a little girl being told, no, you can’t stay up until midnight tonight. Then, once he was finished, the look subsided only a little.

“I hate you.” Was your reply.

He ruffled your hair. “You’re the light of my life too, Jo March.” With that, he stood up with a pleasant smile. “But no worries, I don’t expect you to deal with the inadequacy of the male testosterone.” He then left the room, and you could hear his voice echo. “Now pack your things; clothes, toiletries, your books above everything, I know.”

He still continued to ramble, but in all honestly, it wasn’t important enough to this day for you to remember. All that was going through your head, was that you were going to spend almost a month in a musty, falling apart, preparatory school, with who knew how many musty teenage boys.

It was then you started planning how exactly you’d fly to Copenhagen by yourself.

That only lasted for about two minutes when you realized that your father had your passport locked in a safe with his, and you weren’t really in the mood to lockpick that day (or learn how to for that matter). So instead, you spent the majority of the time packing your suitcase, and your father was right; your books were the most important ones you’d pack.

You didn’t initially plan on socializing with the boys, so you nearly brought your entire library of books to entertain yourself; the only thing stopping you from bringing all of it was, besides your father, the copious amounts of clothing. You didn’t quite like planning out what outfit you’d wear for each day, so it was better to be safe and bring choices.

Your father had gone ahead of you to help the Boys Left Behind (a title you wouldn’t tell anyone for a few years), settle in. Settle in being him being your father and setting the ground rules whilst running that school like the damn Navy. So, there you were, walking through the ankle-deep snow with your backpack and suitcase that was meant for Copenhagen.

The school only had a few buildings; two dormitories for the boys, a small shack for the maintenance, the chapel, and one large building consisting of all the classrooms, dining hall, infirmary, and whatever else was needed for a rich, all American boy education system.

Perhaps you’d gotten a taste of what the American Revolutionists felt at Valley Forge when you heard a voice call.

“Hey!”

You looked up from where you stood and saw five boys near the courtyard by a pickup truck. Your blood, if not already freezing from the winter snow, ran cold at the sight. The same boy yelled again.

“Do you need help, are you lost?”

You shook your head, pitching our voice up a bit higher and shouting back.

“No, thank you!”

Trying to continue on your way, you looked up again to see one of them running towards you. Cursing to yourself, you tried to keep your head low and pick up the pace, but you got to see him one he was closer to you. His face was boyish, and you first thought he was a sophomore at first. His hair to his shoulders, something you didn’t expect to see for someone attending such a prestigious school. And…damn it all, he was attractive (for a boy your age).

“Hi,” he greeted you warmly with his hand out. “Jason Smith.”

You looked at it for a moment (still a bit blindsided how someone at this school could be so genuine) before shaking and giving him your name. He shook his head, chuckling as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket.

“You’re Hunham’s daughter?”

Oh…perhaps you shouldn’t have told him that. Still, you tried to let it roll off your back and played it cool, laughing along with him. “Yeah, I’m stuck over here with you guys.”

“Well, hopefully we won’t get on your nerves too badly. Do you want me to carry that for you?” He offered.

“Oh.” You looked down at your suitcase and handed it to him. “Go ahead, thank you.”

Jason took it, and the both of you began to make your trek up the small hill with the truck. He was being a gentleman, so you decided to keep the conversation going.

“So, why’re you here?”

He shrugged. “My family usually goes skiing for the holidays, but my old man won’t let me go until I cut my hair.”

“That’s really mean of him.” You stated.

Jason snorted “You should tell him that.”

“I will.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For sure.” You went ahead of him, turning around and walking backwards up the hill. “Give me his number and I’ll give him a stern talking to.”

That only made him laugh harder. “You should study to be a lawyer; you make a great case.”

“My father said the same thing once; I just personally have a theory that all parents tell their children they’d be good lawyers because they argue with them. As if it’s not a child’s right to argue.”

“You’re well-spoken too.”

“For a woman?”

You saw panic pale his face. “What?”

A smile couldn’t help but make its way to your mouth. “Only teasing.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Scared me for a moment.”

“Yeah?” You joked, turning back over your shoulder as you felt yourself at the top of the summit. “I usually get that a lot. That’s why my da-.”

Once your eyes drifted up to see the rest of the Boys Left Behind, your words fell silent. The youngest ones, who you assumed to be freshman, you did not recognize but knew immediately they would be kinder than the two whom you already knew.

Teddy ‘I only lost because I went easy on you’ Kountze, and Angus ‘I know more than you’ Tully.

These motherfuckers.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Angus groaned.

Teddy merely blinked, as if he couldn’t believe it. “What’re you doing here?”

“She’s Walleye’s kid, idiot.” Angus pointed out. “Of course she’d be here.”

Jason looked between the three of you. “You know each other?”

With whatever self-control you had (and you barely had any), you kept calm. “They’re just sore losers I met months ago.”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “Hunham wasn’t proud of us after one test, so he called in her one day, and we had to basically go up against her in some bullshit trivia match.”

“Wait,” Jason looked back at you. “so it was you versus the entire class?”

You stood proudly. “Uh huh.”

“Lost to this dickwad of all people.” Teddy slapped Angus’ back. “We couldn’t believe she met her match; she tore apart almost everyone else in class.”

“So then why are you acting like you did any better?” You tried your best to sound as if you were joking but were also dead serious.

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter if I did; you still lost.”

Rolling your eyes, they soon fell onto the youngest pair, staring up at you as if in study. You smiled, holding out your hand, introducing yourself. “What’re your names?”

The one with glasses and black hair shook yours first. “Ye-Joon.”

Then the boy paler than a lightbulb and cheeks turning red from the cold. “Alex.”

“And what’re you two doing here?”

Ye-Joon spoke first. “My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken.” Teddy snickered.

“What’s a rickshaw?”

You shrugged, despite knowing what it was. “Not sure, I am sure that he’s an idiot though.”

Teddy acted as if you were flirting with him. “Highest compliment I’ve ever gotten from you.”

“What about you?” Jason questioned. “You’re Hunham’s kid, but do you go to school in town or…?”

“Homeschooled.” You weren’t the one who responded. All eyes went to Agnus Tully, still smoking a cigarette and averting his eyes from everyone. “Which checks out.”

You tilted your head, hiding your growing nerves with a surprised smile. “Aw, look at that; Frankenstein’s Monster does have the capacity to memorize things.”

The only one who laughed was Teddy, and you almost wanted to take it back.

Angus just shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what kind of schtick it is to be the angry girl, but it doesn’t look nice on you.”

“Hey, leave the lady alone.” Jason stepped in.

“Lady?” He said the word as if it was foreign to call you that.

“Yes,” you agreed with Jason despite how much you didn’t want to, but your desire to humble Angus Tully outweighed your morals (a reoccurring theme for the Winter of 1970). “I’m a lady.”

“For how much you start fights, I wouldn’t call you one.”

“Ladies do not start fights, but they can sure as hell finish them.”

He merely rolled his eyes and went back to smoking. Fair enough…him not engaging only made him look like the bigger person. Still, it wasn’t worth it for you to continue beating a tall, dead, dumb, horse with curly hair.

“What’s your story?” Jason asked Alex.

“Oh,” he sounded shocked. “my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS.”

“Mormons, right?”

Teddy asked before he could respond. “Do you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?”

You turned to Jason and whispered as Alex went into an explanation. “I’m going to slap him into next semester the next time some stupid shit leaves his mouth.”

He tried to hide his smile. “I don’t think any of us would mind, to be honest.”

“Hey,” Teddy interrupted. “what’s with the townies?”

Everyone turned to the chapel and saw two men carrying the Christmas tree out. Agnus yelled. “Excuse me! What are you doing with our Christmas tree?”

“The school sold it back to us!” He responded. “Scotch pine, still fresh.”

The other one added. “Yeah, we’re gonna put it back on the lot. Do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.” Angus shook his head, then looking at you. “Did you know about this?”

You couldn’t even respond right away, the question was so ludicrous. “I had no idea about being stuck here with you idiots until about an hour ago, so I naturally knew the townies would steal your Christmas tree.”

“Unbelievable.” He muttered under his breath, putting out the cigarette and heading towards the main building.

The rest of the boys’ gaze drifted to you, and all you said was. “Do you think he’d believe me if I told him they worked for the Grinch?”

You were more than halfway through A Christmas Carol when you were in the room you shared with your father in the infirmary. He was chatting with Mary, the head cook and the closest woman you would have to a mother figure, downstairs, leaving you by yourself.

Not exactly.

In the next room, you knew Alex, Ye-Joon, and Angus shared one, and then Teddy and Jason. They were quiet for the most part, save for Kountze tossing a tennis ball against the wall, but it stopped bothering you after a few minutes.

You’d read the Charles Dickens’ tale a million times, but you couldn’t help and see how many similarities Angus Tully shared with Ebenezar Scrooge. It would be a lie if anyone were to ever claim you didn’t have hobbies; what would they call you assigning fictional characters to real people?

You found yourself beginning to pace around the room the more you read. Whilst voices raising in the background grew louder, you didn’t know exactly what had been happened until you wandered in on Tully and Kountze having a fight you could only summarize as it being straight out of Lord of the Flies.

You knew how that story ended, so with one look, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Finding a quiet corner outside of the infirmary, you thought you were safe when-.

Your father yelled your name. “Could you come here, please?”

Roling your eyes, you yelled back. “You told me not to deal with the inadequacy of the male testosterone, so that’s what I’m doing!”

He called for you again, and you groaned, bookmarking where you were and marching back to the infirmary. All five boys and your father stood before you, and you leaned against the doorframe, making it known you wanted to be anywhere but there.

Paul Hunham sighed. “You wouldn’t happen to know who started this ‘Not fight’ mister Ollerman described to me?”

Your eyes drifted to Tully (for reasons, you had no idea), who simply glared back at you. You could’ve done it…lied about him starting it even though you had no idea; it’s what he deserved for being an ass you to that day, and for winning months ago.

But, where you were a bitch, you were also just.

“No,” you stated. “I don’t know.”

He thinned his lips, turning back to everyone. “All right then, we’ll do it like the Roman Legions. Absent a confession, one man’s sin is every man’s suffering. For every minute the truth is withheld, you will all receive a detention.”

“And I thought all the Nazis were hiding in Argentina.” Angus mumbled.

“Stifle it, Tully.” Your father refuted.

You shrugged (this somehow being the first time you agreed with Angus Tully). “He’s got a point; you’re breaking the Geneva Convention if you do.”

“The what?” Teddy scrunched his nose.

“Well,” Your father sighed as he said your name. “if you want to have an opinion on the matter, you can join them as well.”

“I don’t even go here!”

“Well, you’re standing under the roof right now. Now in the first of said detentions, you will clean the library. Top to bottom. Scraping the underside of the desks, which are caked with snot and gum and all manner of ancient, unspeakable proteins. On your hands and knees, down in the dust, breathing in the dead skin of generations of students and desiccated cockroach assholes.”

“It was Kountze!” Little Alex pointed to him. “Kountze started it!”

While the guilty party in question’s face had dropped, you watched as your father’s brightened. “Bravo, Mister Ollerman. Bravo.”

It must’ve off put Mary how you were smiling in the kitchen when you picked up the pitcher of water and bread as she got the platters of chicken and potatoes and asparagus.

Still, she asked. “How bad of a day was it for you to be smiling as you serve the men at the table?”

“Eh,” you began. “I would rather be on a plane to Copenhagen right now, but being stuck at this hell hole with you makes it tolerable; better, even.

Mary smiled at that. “Feeling’s mutual, Jane Bennett.”

“I’m Lizzie.” You playfully whined.

“And I can’t be bothered to finish that book.” She teased, and the two of you were beginning to make your way to the dining hall.

“Speaking of books, do you have another one I could borrow?” You asked.

“Already?” Mary sounded surprised. “I gave you that book last week.”

“And I finished it in a few days, I just haven’t had the chance to ask you.”

She shook her head as you pushed through the door out into the dining hall, holding it for her. “I’ll recommend the Bible next time to keep you occupied for longer.”

“I think I’ll stick with James Baldwin, if that’s alright.” You jested, then seeing Jason’s lips move as he asked a question, Teddy responded, and then your father spoke quite loudly.

“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”

You and Mary set down the food, and you scrunched your nose in disgust at your father’s ‘fun fact’ while sitting beside Jason and facing Angus. It took everything in your bones not to burst out in laughter to see Teddy Kountze sitting at the edge of the table like a toddler having a silent tantrum.

“Thank you, Mary.” Your father greeted as everyone began to serve themselves. “Would you maybe care to join us?”

Oh, the look of distaste on Teddy’s face nearly made you lose it. Mary took notice immediately, and she offered a meek smile. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

The same moment the door to the kitchen closed when she left was when Teddy turned to all of you, whispering as if it would help. “I mean…I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s being paid to do a job. And she should be doing it well, right?”

If it weren’t for the fact you were chewing on a piece of chicken, and that your father was just two seats away from you, you would’ve given him a piece of your mind. The glare in your eyes would have to suffice.

Still, he opened his dumb mouth to continue. “But I guess, no matter how bad of a cook she is, they can never fire her.”

“Will you shut up?!” Your father hit the table so hard, silverware flew. You’d seen this rage from him before…but it still made you jump. “You have no idea what that woman has been through-!”

His gaze turned to you, and saw the look that could only belong to you in moments like that; where you stiffened yourself and hardened your eyes to look as if you did not know what fear meant. Yet, there was still an undeniable amount of terror even within those eyes you tried to have been the most fearless.

He reigned himself back in. “You know, Mr. Kountze, for most people, life is like a henhouse ladder; shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat.”

The boys obeyed, keeping their heads low. You felt your heart go back to itself, and as you were returning to eating, you heard an irritating voice mumble.

“Not our fault her kid was one of the poor bastards to be drafted.”

It took you three seconds to find Teddy’s foot under the table, and one for you to step on it with all your weight.

He jolted, cursing under his breath before looking at you. “The hell?!”

You feigned innocence, a potato on your fork. “Oh, was that your foot? I’m so sorry.”

Teddy’s eyes tried to burn through your skin as you continued to eat, but you barely felt them. The eyes you did feel on you were soon gone when you looked across from where you sat.

There was Angus Tully, keeping his head down as if he was a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

…Interesting…

What else were you supposed to think?

You finished A Christmas Carol by the time your father forced you to turn out the lights (and then confiscated your flashlight from under your bed…had to think of a better hiding spot). It always took you a while to go to sleep (still does, some nights).

As you laid in darkness, your mind would rush with the worlds you vowed to lose yourself in through the books you read. Frodo had Middle Earth, Emma had Highbury, and you had…Barton, Massachusetts.

Not even Concord like the March Sisters, just plain old Barton.

So, naturally, when your mind had tired itself from living these fantasies, and as you were about to drift off to sleep, your father’s snoring awoke you.

You hadn’t even noticed he came into the room, only when he started snoring to wake the dead. Sighing heavily, you tossed yourself out of bed, and used what moonlight coming in from the windows as your guide. Not long after, you saw that Angus and the freshmen boys drew the short end of the stick in their room choice; there were no curtains to the windows, causing the lamplights to bleed into the room, making it an unfavorable color of piss yellow.

That’s when your eyes drifted to where Jason and Teddy were; a little light peering in from their window facing the moon, and correspondingly, the other bedroom, but still quite dark. Closest to the door…a spare bed.

Yes, it was by Teddy, but your father’s snoring being fainter in that room was enough for you.

But again…it was by Teddy.

So, swallowing your pride, your eyes darted around for a solution, and they landed on Frankenstein’s Monster right behind you. Sighing to yourself, you turned back around into his room, and after thinking of what to say, you shook him awake.

He was somehow relaxed at first when he opened his eyes to see you; but that was just shock, he nearly fell out of bed when his vision adjusted.

“What the hell?!” He gasped, sitting up.

You shushed him, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I need a favor.”

He blinked, looking around to just double check where he was; nope, it wasn’t a bad dream, yep, he was still at Barton. “You appear like one of the fucking ghosts from A Christmas Carol, what could it possibly be?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, Ebenezar Scrooge, my dad snores like he’s trying to be the Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk, and I can’t sleep in there. So, I’m gonna go sleep in the other room, and you gotta wake me up or I’m dead.”

Angus Tully stared at you as if your head had grown horns. “I have no idea what you just said right now because you woke me up at,” he turned and looked at his watch. “oh look, 1am.”

Sighing you bit back a response only because you needed something from him. “Look; I want to actually be able to sleep, and I know I won’t at all if I’m stuck in a room with my dad all night. I’ll sleep in the extra bed in the other room, and you wake me up so that none of us will be killed if I oversleep in a room with teenage boys.”

It’s more than obvious he understood, but he then asked. “Why not just ask one of the guys in the room you’re sleeping in?”

“I don’t trust Kountze with anything and Jason…”

Damn your exhaustion for not being able to come up with a good explanation besides-.

“You like him.” Angus’ face lit up with a teasing glee that unnerved you somehow more than Teddy’s entire existence did that day.

“No!” You immediately deny. “I mean, yes, but in a way that of course I like him because he’s the only one of you assholes who are nice to me. So, I don’t like like him.”

You liar.

Angus scoffed, yet his shit eating grin was still on his face. “What are you, twelve?”

“I was about to ask the same thing since you’re so interested.” You rolled your eyes.

“So why me?” He asked. “You like the freshmen, don’t you trust them more?”

“I like them and actually want them to sleep.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Sighing you said. “I’ll give you whatever you want; not whatever you fucking perve but-.”

“-I never even thought of it like-.”

“-Sure, you didn’t.” You interrupted. “But I got a friend in town, so I can always go and get you stuff. What do you want?”

He took his time thinking; so much time you were tempted to wake Mary up and beg her to let you sleep in her room (you knew she would've let you, but you didn't want to disturb her. You also never questioned your father why he didn't initially have you sleep in Mary's room; more than likely just to give her her own space). Finally, he answered.

“Chocolate and cigarettes.” The look you gave him would’ve made you laugh if you could see it. It only made him scrunch his eyes. “What?"

“That’s it?”

“I'm running out of both, big deal." He scoffed. "Am I allowed to change my mind after each time you pay me? Besides, when will you?”

You shrugged. “I can’t go out every day. I’ll see if he’ll let me the day after tomorrow, so I can stock up then. How about…every three days you wake me up, that’s when I give you stuff. Sound good?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Holding out your hand, you were surprised he shook it right away. You looked him dead in the eyes when you said. “If any of them try to do anything to me while I sleep, I’m using their own pillow to suffocate them; that goes for you too, clear?”

“Crystal.” He drew his hand away. “I won’t say anything either.”

You nodded in thanks, standing up. Before you could tiptoe to the other room, you looked back at him. “Wake me up at six-thirty; he’ll wake you all up at seven.”

When you turned your back again, he asked in an unsettled fashion. “How?”

You knew that he hated the light flooding the room for a different reason now; to see your smile of mischief before you left.

#angus tully x reader #the holdovers #paul hunham #mary lamb #angus tully #academic rivals #Youtube

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andy-wm · 3 months

Text

On a personal note...

This is a personal story, so feel free to scroll on past (if you're only here for the Jikookery I can respect that).

I'm posting this because it's connected to what Jimin and Jungkook (specifically Jimin) may or may not be doing with this album and their travel series "Are you sure", and by that I mean coming out publicly as queer and as lovers. If it sounds vague, it is, because I don't know what they're doing yet. I don't know how far Jimin is taking this or what direction he'll go. But if he is going to make his private life public, then my post is relevant even though my experience is a microscopic spec 0f what he will encounter.

I live in a conservative little town on the edge of a big city, we're almost the last stop on the metro train line. This place has 10 000 residents and a reputation for being a little on the rough side. It's not a bad place and the people are not bad people but they won't step aside if you pick a fight, lets put it that way.

There's one high school in our little town, and I am the school librarian. I also run the school's pride club and when I started it 5 years ago (that's when I joined this school) it kicked up a bit of a stink. The community had mixed feelings. I wasn't out as trans at that point, only as queer. The school principal supported the club but wanted me to keep it quiet (I didn't). She wanted me to be appeasing (I wasn't). And when we had challenges from homophobic students, she wanted me to 'let her handle it' ( I didn't).

I responded to bigotry with patience and kindness, modelling the behaviour I expected and having many many conversations about prejudice, the patriarchy, learned behaviour, fear of the unknown, and minding your own damn business....

When I came out as trans to the school community - changing my name and pronouns - I faced some real push back from both staff and students. Students were less openly hostile but sometimes the subtle attempts at bullying are worse. My line manager was really difficult about it. I was a hot topic of conversation. It wasn't a good time. But I stuck with it, partly because I couldn't go back and partly because the Pride Club students were so empowered by what I was doing. They thought I was really brave. I couldn't let them down.

It was a tough time for me personally. Every day was a struggle as I navigated my wavering sense of identity and tried to be true to myself. Most of my family and friends were okay with it but some were not. Some flipped back and forth, some thought I had lost my mind. I had to let a few people go from my life, including one of my closest friends. I've lost a few more since then. I've cried more in the past few years than I have in my whole life and I am pretty tough, so you gotta know - it was a lot.

Fast forward to now. The pride club is well established, homophobia still exists but it's less overt and it's no longer ignored, and we have staff who are active allies. It's definitely a success. Our students to have a safe place where they can be themselves, and slow change is coming to the culture of the school.

It has come at a personal cost though. Not a HUGE personal cost but enough for it to matter. I am recognised and known around town because, well, most people in small communities know each other. But more so because of my role in the school, and because I am the only out and vocal queer person on school staff (yes, there are other LGBTQIA+ staff but they keep it quiet, and I don't really blame them).

At school i still have to correct people on my pronouns on a daily basis, and occasionally a student will throw a comment my way but it's not often these days. I have to come out to all the new staff pretty much as soon as I first meet them otherwise it's awkward. It's just an everyday thing. It's not a big deal but it's tiring, and it's something cis/straight people don't ever have to think about.

What is tough, though, is sniping from the community at large every now and again. I have been targeted on community socials and I've had had some pretty brusque service from local shop owners and service personnel in local businesses. Sometimes I see kids from school at the shops and they point me out to their parents. I pretend it's because they're happy to see me (what the fuck else am I going to do - hide in the apple crate?) They may say a friendly hello... or they may following me through the aisles of the supermarket trying to menace me - yes, that has happened - I just have to wait and see.

I do have allies in the community too - like the gorgeous pharmacist who always gets my name and pronouns right and compliments me (on whatever he can think of) every time I collect my meds. There's a stern woman in the hardware store who makes a point of loudly correcting herself when she uses the wrong pronouns (often). I appreciate this, I really do, but honestly it would be great if she could be a little quieter.

I am not a celebrity by any means, just a small town school librarian. But wherever I go in my small town - to the doctor, the supermarket, the park, or the gym - there's a chance I'll encounter someone who knows my face. Sometimes that makes me nervous.

The point of this long and boring post is to give people who may not know what it's like, a bit of insight into the experience of a regular, everyday person who lives in a conservative place and who is both recognisable and queer. It can be exhausting, and from time to time I struggle with mental health issues. So I have no doubt that for people who are really well known, it would be much, much worse. They would be the subject of public debate on news sites and TV. They'd be tossed into arguments by politicians on both sides of the divide. They'd encounter hostility in person too, and that's really frightening.

So please remember that if the celebs you admire choose NOT to come out, it's because they've weighed up their choices and that's the safest option for them. Support them where they're at, so they can live their best life under the circumstances.

If they do come out, they'll probably need even more support. Please love them, defend them, celebrate them, and validate them. They need you more than you know.

And above all else, be a good human.

PS, no need to comment here, this is purely a PSA <3

#queer community #coming out #lgbtqia #pride month #it's okay if you're not ready #safe spaces #trans allies #queerness

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mrslankyman · 7 months

Text

Sinfully Gorgeous pt. 2

Vox x (fem) over lord reader

Smut

Word count: 5K

Working on: Part 3 - cancelled (sorry!)

3 weeks.

It had been 3 weeks since you shot that porno with Vox. So why in the HELL was everyone in HELL still raving over it?!

It wasn’t anything special.

It was a brand deal and that was it. It wasn’t like you knew it was going to be Vox. Valentino stated after the shoot he chose Vox since it would boost you both. Sure it did but at what cost?

Your phone was flooded with texts and emails from sinners asking if you and Vox were a thing.

Have you joined the Vees?

Were you and Vox fucking on the low?

How long were you two together?

All these questions were getting to your head and making you sick.

You laid back in your expensive bed. The silky pillows that most sinners could never afford comforting your head. Phone in hand you scrolled through your feed. Vox’s news show popped.

“Top of the hour sinners. Today we will be discussing the ongoing discussion that I and I'm sure our lovely {Y/N} is seeing too.” He clasped his hands together and turned to the screen in front of him that was showing photos of sinners questions.

“Has {Y/N} joined the Vees?” He read aloud. “No she has not, though I would not be opposed to the idea.” He chuckled, sending a wink to the camera.

You groaned and fast forward on the video stopping when a clip of the porno popped up on the screen. Curious of what he would say about it. You hadn’t talked to him since a day after that was filmed.

“How did it feel to fuck the {Y/N}?” He chuckled as he read that aloud. A smirk crawled onto his face. “Well folks I’ll tell ya. It was better than any sex I myself have ever had.” He leaned forward covering half his mouth with the side of his hand. “A little secret for you all, she has the tightest pussy you’ll ever fuck in hell.” He laughed leaning back. “Yes folk it’s true she was definitely a virgin and safe to say I took that card from her.” His cocky laugh echoed in your head.

He took your virginity?

What was he a fucking idiot?

Embarrassing you on Hell's public news.

You were not a virgin, far from it and for this cocky ass tv faced man to state he was the lucky one to take it from you made you seeth.

You instantly opened up your messages and searched his name in your contact. Typing out a text. Fingers flying across the screen as anger edged in every digital word typed.

{You}: who in the HELL do you think you are? Saying you took my virginity on the fucking news? Real mature of you. What the fuck are we teenagers in high school. If you ever fucking do something like this again I will make sure you and your little fucking news channel are never broad casted again.

{Vox}: Wow, didn't suspect you to see it so soon. What's the matter, I was just messing around. I bet it was the best sex you’ve ever had, why not say your best was also your first?

{You}:oh were cocky as fuck huh? You really think you were the best? Keep dreaming.

{Vox}: I must have been something for you to go off script.

{You}: fuck you, you went off script as well.

{Vox}: oh you wanna fuck me again? Maybe I'll make it an even better time, we can make our own script.

{You}: you know what I meant. Never fucking mention me on your little show again. It was a one time deal.

{Vox}: aren’t you just a ball of sunshine. Whatever you say darling. I’ll erase that part of the segment from the show and their memories.

{You}: good, the only time your fucking mind control has been used for an actual purpose.

{Vox}: Or I can just keep it up. You know you’re not being very kind.

{You}: oh fuck off this is hell. I don’t need to be kind to the man who just publicly embarrassed me.

{Vox}: and the man who publicly pleasured you.

{You}: just take it down.

{Vox}: yes ma’am.

You groaned and turned your phone off. Throwing it to the floor and laying down fully. Pulling the covers over your head and closing your eyes. Sleeping the anger and annoyance off.

—

Your alarm buzzed in the morning. You groaned and woke up grabbing your phone from the floor and turning it off. But not before you saw the message from Alastor.

“You’re a virgin?”

That fucker didn’t delete the segment!

You dashed around your house putting on an outfit and doing your make up the fastest you had ever. Your shoes were on in seconds and out the door you went.

You called a cab and got in, instructing them to take you to the Vees tower. Of course you know the consequences of this.

Everyone would assume you were going to see Vox in a different way. When in reality his ass was going to get a fist in his screen.

The cab dropped you off and you paid them before getting out. Marching up to the front of the building. A few people looked over. Snapping pictures and videos. You rolled your eyes and pressed the buzzer on the door.

“Who is it?” Voxs voice played through the small speaker.

“{Y/N}.” The second you said your name the doors opened. You smirked slightly and headed inside jumping as the doors closed behind you harshly.

“Vox! Where the fuck are you we need to have a talk!” You yelled walking around the lobby looking for any sign of him. Footsteps echoed down the hall and there he was. A smile on his stupid flat screened face.

“Ah {Y/N} So nice of you to stop by-” You grabbed him by his suit's flaps and slammed him against the wall. A groan escaped his lips and his screen displayed a loading circle before his eyes came back.

“You asshole, I told you to take that segment down!” You screamed in his face without giving a second to think. “Do you know who the fuck I am?! I will end you!” You leaned into his face. Your spit landing on his screen. He glared at you but on the inside he was loving the attention.

Your hands on him was enough to make him melt. But he had to be sure not to display it too much. Or you’d let go and call him weird.

“You can end me anytime you want.” His words were smooth and flirtatious. He obviously did not understand the gravity of the situation he was in.

“You do not wanna fuck with me Vox.” You warned re-shoving him against the wall. He grunted and grabbed your arms. “You know I would love to fuck with you.” He chuckled, eyeing you with a smirk. “You little-” Your grip tightened on him getting ready to shove him again.��

“{Y/N}!” He yelled his right eye widening as he used his mind control on you. You froze your eyes going wide. Your grip on him faltered as you shook your head. The daze wears off.

“Why don’t you calm down?” He offered, pulling your arms down from his suit. “Don’t use that fucking mind control shit on me.” You pulled your arms away from him. He sighed and rested his hand on his hips. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was full of annoyance now.

“Delete the segment. That’s all I want. I’ll leave you alone and you do the same.” You held out your hand. “Deal?” You tilted your head, pink fire appearing around your palm.

“No deals. I just promise I will. I’m no idiot. I know how you pull strings.” He pushed your hand away, the fire disappearing. You groaned and pulled your hand back.

“Very well.” You nodded even though a part of you knew he would never take that segment down fully.

“I’ll go delete it.” He fixed his tie, closing his eyes. “Good.” You said before a ding came from your phone. You held it up. “At Voxs darling?” Alastor had texted. A part of you hated Charlie for getting him onto this phone kick. He was so against technology until he was told he could text you whenever.

Vox opened one eye as he heard the ding. He eyed you and read the text. The words Darling and Alastor made his circuits spark. Why in the hell did that old timey prick have your number?

“I better leave before everyone in hell assumes we're seeing each other. I do not need that in my life.” You shoved your phone in your pocket. Looking up at Vox whose face had a rather.. Concerning smile displaying.

He let out a laugh though it glitched. He stepped closer to you. His hand grabbed your arm pulling you to him. “Why the fuck is the radio demon texting you?” His voice deepened. Eyes squinting as he grabbed your phone from your pocket.

“Hey!- what the fuck.” You squirmed in his grip. A tsk tsk came from him as he used his eye to unlock your phone. Reading you and Alastors messages. Anger surged through him as you both had been sending jokes about him. His grip on you tightened and he squeezed your phone in his other hand till it shattered into pieces.

“Vox what the fuck!-” You watched as he broke your phone, your attention being snapped back to his face as he slammed you up against the wall this time.

He laid his arm next to your head on the wall and his other hand gripped your neck.

“I’m not taking the segment down. You wanna talk shit about me to that damn radio demon go ahead. I'll say whatever I want about you. You are nothing to me.” His words were low and strung out. His eyes were wide and red drool dripped from his mouth. Though his grip on your neck was tight it wasnt hard enough to really choke you out.

That was one thing he did not want to do.

He was pissed off but not necessarily at you. The idea that Alastor got more of your attention than him is what pissed him off. He knew it was such a stupid thing to be mad over.

But he wanted you. Even if he had to pretend he didn’t.

Your eyes squinted and you squirmed under him. Truthfully he didn’t scare you. This position didn’t make you feel threatened, it made you feel.. Other things.

In a dark and twisted way his anger really made you think of that shoot. How his hands gripped your sides and he’d moan before glitching out.

“If you wanna scare me you’re gonna have to try harder than this.” You grabbed his face. Your hand pulling him closer. “Cause all I can think about is you glitching out before you cummed inside me.” Your words made his screen display a light shade of red.

“I-”

“You want that again hmm?” You kissed his screen. “Want to feel my tight pussy as you said? I guess since it was the best I’ve ever had you’d think I would’ve been begging you for more.” You whispered, making your voice low and seductive. His grip faltered as his screen turned red. His eyes drooped as you talked to him sensually.

“Too bad I wasn’t.” You cooed, kicking him in the crotch. He groaned and keeled over. Holding his crotch in his hands. “Fuck fuck fuck..” He groaned in pain as you stepped over him.

“You owe me a phone.” You spat on his withering form and walked out.

–-

Safe to say he gave you a new phone. That part of the segment was erased. To your knowledge from the general public of hell. Knowing Vox he probably cut it from half the people's memories and kept it in the other to confuse them.

What an ass hole.

Today you were off to Alastor's radio tower. He wanted to have you on this new segment he was working on. Whatever that meant.

You had made it to the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie showed you to Alastors tower. You thanked her and headed inside. He greeted you and showed you the different buttons and the mic. Getting you accustomed to the technology before having a seat with you.

Not having a camera in your face was both relaxing and strange. This seemed more like a conversation you were having with a friend that just so happened to be recorded.

“Today I am here with my dear friend {Y/N}.” Alastor spoke into his mic. Smiling your way as you said hello.

“So why don’t you tell everyone what it’s like to be the fashion overlord?” He handed you his mic. Urging you to introduce yourself further.

After the basic introduction was done he began to ask you questions. It slowly became clear to you what he was doing.

“What is your opinion on Vox?” He smirked and leaned your way. That question made you groan.

“That man? Come now Alastor. You know he isn’t something to talk about.” You leaned back in your chair and your reply made Alastor chuckle.

“Go on dear. Just tell us about him.” He leaned the mic closer to you.

“Fine.” You took the mic and leaned up.

“Vox is something. Not the kind of something you’d want either. He is terrible in bed.” You snickered at the idea that Vox would be listening to you. “Oh is he now? I do believe we all saw that video dear. It seems the opposite.” He eyed you a shit eating grin on his face.

“That’s what a script is for.” You sneered.

“There's a theory you went off script. After all that Valentino did post it.” He checked his claws smirking.

You groaned as Alastor was just doing this to stir drama. He hated Vox but loved to mess with you. So he was playing both ways.

“Anyways, besides that he is a prick and snoops on everyone. He is fucking insane but I suppose that’s why he’s here. If you are thinking about trying to get with that man please do so he will leave me alone.” You handed the mic back to Alastor. He was holding in his laugh. “Thank you dear for your lovely insight on that clout chasing mediocre video podcasts.” He ended the broadcast and sighed.

—

About 4 hours after the broadcast a ding sounded from your phone. Either it was Alastor or some random person.

You checked the message and groaned as the name displayed on your screen.

Vox.

Of course.

You slid open your phone and sat down on your couch to answer him.

{Vox}: doing a broadcast with the radio demon to degrade me? Really. After you begged me to delete your segment.

{You}: what's the matter? Thought you liked being degraded

{Vox}: I'm not doing this. I’m gonna have to make you understand.

{You}: oh really? Why don’t you just face that you suck in bed and you suck even more as a person.

{Vox}: I suck in bed? Oh sweet heart. I don’t believe that's what you truly think.

{Vox has sent a video}

You pressed play, wishing you didn’t as a clip from the porno played. You were riding him moaning his name and begging him to go faster. His fingers digging into your sides as he rammed into you on your command.

{You}: have to give the audience what they want.

{Vox}: oh yeah? What if there wasn’t an audience?

{You}: then none of that would’ve happened. I’d be as quiet as a mouse.

{Vox}: we’ll see about that.

{You}: what's that mean?

:seen 3 minute ago:

“Bitch.” You turned your phone off and laid down on the couch. Letting your mind wander back to the shoot. Perhaps you did enjoy him a little more than you’d like to admit. But you’d never tell him that. Or anyone for that matter.

It’s bad enough there were more theories going around on you two. How the hatred was an act so you could keep things private. How it was fake or just a stunt for money.

You’d let the public guess and argue over it. You had no intentions on stating anything as of yet.

So not thinking much of anything you turned on your tv and sat back.

You sat up a little as you tv went to static. A blue glow came from it after a moment and a shock wave burst from it. The room went black and then the tv turned back on. Vox stood in front of you. Blocking the tv from view.

“What the- Vox what the fuck!” You sat up all the way as Vox stepped closer with a smile on his face.

“We don’t have an audience here.” He leaned down looming over you as. Leaning back into the couch you slowly smirked. “Oh is that so? You wanna see if you can really work your magic on me?” You teased him watching as his face grew more annoyed.

“Yes I do.” He put a finger under your chin and lifted it up. “I wanna prove to you that going off the script was because I am good at what I do. Not because you wanted to promote your bullshit brand.” He chuckled and moved you down on the couch to a lying position.

“Oh you really wanna prove a point? Then I'm gonna make mine. I bet you can’t make me make a single sound.” You snickered as he threw his hat off to the ground.

“Fine but I'm gonna make you eat those words.” He leaned down and kissed you. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth.

He slid his tongue inside your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongues tangle together.

His hand slid down your sides and grabbed your jeans. You didn’t make a noise, the only sound was your pants rubbing together as Vox began to grind against you.

A part of you just wanted to give in. Let him take you and win. But the bitch inside you wanted to win to shove it in his face every day. So you suppressed your moans and pulled back from the kiss.

He stared down at you and smirked, “Come on.. Just a little peep.” He groaned and made a quick upwards motion with his hips. It felt good you wouldn’t lie.

You shook your head and smirked though earning an annoyed groan from the man above you. “Good thing we just started.” His voice was low as he undid your pants and yanked them off with a swift movement.

You stared up at him and smirked. He slid off his blazer and undid his tie. The only thing left was his striped shirt.

You sat up and pushed him down instead. He looked at you confused before smirking. He liked this and he didn’t care if you didn’t care in the moment if you didn’t like him how he liked you. Any form of attention from you was good.

The feeling of you sitting on his bulge made his screen glitch as a low moan escaped him. He wanted to hear your approving moans as well but you weren’t giving it to him. You just moved against him with the best poker face he had ever seen.

“F- fuck..” His voice buffered as he grabbed your hips and lifted you off him slightly. He didn’t want this to be over too soon.

“I’m gonna break you. Just you wait.” He clawed at the sides of your underwear. Breaking the thin fabric, grabbing them as they fell down. He tossed them to the side and looked at you.

You blushed. Thanking Lucifer a blush didn’t count as a noise. That action was pretty hot. The desire in his eyes shone through. He slid off two of his claws. Just as he did for the shoot.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked them. Red saliva littered them. You anticipated the feeling of them inside you. Trying to prepare yourself so you didn’t moan.

But he didn’t just slide them in. He circled his fingers around your clit.

Smirking as he saw you twitch. Biting your lip before going back to a straight face.

“Oh come on. I almost got you.” He laughed and slid one finger in. Pushing it in and out before adding the second and curling them inside.

He kept pumping them in and out at different paces trying to make you moan. Anything really. A small gasp or groan.

He wasn’t given the pleasure.

You just closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling. You hadn't met a man who could finger this good. He sure was something and you would love to keep this up. But his fingers just weren’t like his dick. Which was under you twitching and leaking pre cum.

Just waiting for it’s turn inside. So you grabbed his wrist and he slid out his fingers.

“Come on.. I’ll only give it to you if you beg.” He smirked and slid his finger down your slit teasingly. You shook your head.

“Come on!” His voice statticed and he shoved his dick inside you. The amount of force you had to use to suppress your moan was astounding.

He groaned as he noticed you didn't make a sound.

“Fine, but I'm still gonna give you a damn good time. So you can’t say im shit at this.” he pulled out of you and flipped you over. Pushing you down under him. He wrapped your legs around him and slowly slid inside you again. Leaning his head back a quiet moan escaping his lips.

You grabbed his shoulders and bit your lip. With each steady thrush the feeling of giving up echoed in your mind. It was starting to hurt holding in your noises. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth bared and red drool dripping from his mouth. Blue static came from him as soon as he picked up his pace.

“F-f-fuck.. I fucking hate you.” He slammed into you and a quiet moan escaped your lips.

His eyes shot open and he looked down at you. Your face was red and sweaty. You covered your mouth, a smirk displayed on his face.

“What was that?” He taunted and slid all the way out of you then back in. A quiet moan escaped your mouth again.

“Yeah that's right, I knew you couldn’t last forever.” He chuckled, his cocky attitude back. He kept his thrush gentle and slow. You gave in and let your moans fill the room. Vox loved the sounds. All your attention on him every moan, grunt, and whimper from your mouth was for him. It made his dick even harder. “Vox..please.. Please I'm.. I’m almost..” You stared into his eyes on the verge of orgasm.

“Go ahead, we’ll do it together darling.” He slid his hand down and circled your clit and thrusted into you on more time. His cum filling your inside as yours too gave way and hit your orgasm.

His screen glitched out and his voice buffered as he moaned your name.

After you both came down from your highs you looked into his eyes.

“I hate you.” You glared at him.

“You may hate me but I know you love him.” He chuckled as he slid his dick out, rubbing it against your slit. Earning an annoyed groan from you.

“This was fun. Good to know you enjoyed it.” He winked and stood up. Putting on his clothes. He walked down your hall. You groaned and looked down at the cum on your couch. Annoyed now.

He came back with a damp towel. He pushed you down gently and cleaned you up. Then rubbed the excess off the couch.

“Gotta keep my toy clean.” He pinched your face before sliding his claws back on.

“Least you have decent manners.” You scoffed and sat up.

“Of course.” He smiled and glitched out. Disappearing into the tv. The room went black before the lights turned on.

You got dressed and sat on the couch. Embarrassingly repeating the way he moaned your name in your head over and over.

Why did you let him win?

—

Today was your and Alastors photo shoot. You were modeling Sinfully Gorgeous but just a few of the modest outfits. With Alastors old time camera it made things look more classy. So he had agreed to do a small shoot in your studio.

He had arrived about an hour ago. He was all dressed up just waiting for you now. You had gone for an old timey style of makeup and hair.

Walking out of your dressing room he looked over. His eyes widened and a pleasant smile erased the plain one.

“You look lovely darling.” He titled his head. “Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.” You complimented back, gaining a chuckle from him.

“Shall we do this?” He stood up straight. “Yes.” You replied back heading over to the backdrop. It was plain white but it made the photos show up better.

You did a few different poses and outfits. Some silly and others professional.

“Wait, I have an idea.” You smirked and Alastor looked at you with a confused smile.

“Voxtek is sponsoring this shoot. Part of a contract deal after that shoot with Valentino. I made Vox sign a contract to sponsor whatever I want when I want since I had to.. Fuck him” You rolled your eyes.

“Right.” Alastor chuckled. He knew better. You and that tv headed fucker for sure had something going on. But you were his friend so he wouldn't say his true opinion. Though he sure as hell did back at the hotel.

“I know just the way to tick him off.” You smirked at him and he instantly knew what you meant. Loving the idea of pissing off Vox for fun.

—

You did a few poses. Holding each other. Alastor dipping you and finally the ones that would piss Vox off the most. You knew Alastor wasn’t one for these types of things. Though he agreed he did not mind if it was just to piss off Vox.

You had ordered your helpers to set up a chair. They did as asked and Alastor sat down.

“Go head darling. I wanna see the look on his face when he sees these.” You both laughed as you sat between his legs.

Alastor gripped your chin and turned your face to his. His smile on his face. Though it was a more intimate one. He sure played this well. You look into his eyes with as much passion as a smirk displayed on your face.

The photo was taken and you stood up. Slinging your legs over Alastors lap, your assistant changed the camera's angle to get a side view. Alastor looked into your eyes. “Excuse me if I am not good at this.”He chuckled and you smiled. “It’s okay.” You both had a short laugh before getting ready for the photo.

He closed his eyes and you leaned in. Pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back but he wasn't hesitant. He just wasn’t sure how to move his lips. You pulled away the second the photo was taken.

“You aren’t terribly bad.” You joked, gaining an eye roll from him.

The last photo was one of you both standing. Alastor kissed you one last time but in this one his eyes were looking at the camera. A bigger dig at Vox.

—

“Thanks for helping me.” You thanked Alastor as you had gotten the photos ready to be sent out to Voxtek. “It’s not a problem. Anything for an old pal.” Alastor smiled as you both walked out of the studio.

—

Vox sipped on his coffee until a ding came through on his screen. He flicked his finger and sent it to one of his monitors. He opened the email and sifted through the photos your team had emailed him.

He groaned as it was you and Alastor. Pissed off that the radio demon was getting your attention now.

His anger was pretty controlled till he got to the attachment labeled ‘surprise.’

A part of him hoped it was some sinful photos of you in your outfit. Though to his dismay it was not.

He opened up the file with a smirk on his face only for it to be erased in a meer second as his eyes landed on you and Alastor kissing. He gripped his desk claws digging into it. Leaving a mark.

He groaned and looked at the next photo. Alastor kissing you and eyeing the camera with that smug grin tugging on his lips. He screamed and slammed his fist into the monitor, cracking it and causing the screen to glitch out.

The monitor turned off as he kept punching it. His screams and groans of anger echoing through the room.

“The fuck is your problem?!” Velvette asked as she slammed open the door.

Vox turned around to look at her. A deranged smile on his face as his eye twitched.

“Set up my showroom. If this bitch wants to play dirty we’ll play dirty.” He pulled his hand out of the monitor watching as his blood trickled down his arm.

#vox #vox hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox x fem reader #vox smut #vox x reader smut #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #ima keep this story going #enemies to lovers #enemies

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alicesivory · 2 months

Text

Old Habits Die Hard [5/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3454

Summary: Aemond gradually embraced the rugged and untamed ways of the wildlings, adjusting to their customs and survival skills in the harsh environment they inhabited.

As dawn broke, the first fingers of light seeped into Aemond’s tent, casting a gentle, golden glow that wove through the coarse fabric. The sun’s early warmth stirred him from his slumber, and he awoke with a serene awareness of another day granted to him. The sleep he had savoured was a rare gift from the gods especially when he stepped foot in the north.

The finest sleep he had enjoyed in months.

Surely this humble tent wasn’t as extravagant of his chambers in King's Landing. The Wildling’s tent was as if it brings comfort to him than the Night's Watch barracks. Here, the simplicity of his shelter was a luxury in itself, a sanctuary far superior to the cramped mattresses and the chill of the stone walls. Aemond’s gaze fell upon the fur and blankets that cocooned him—a gift of warmth from the Wildling woman who had shown him unexpected kindness; he knew he might never be able to fully repay her. As he drew the fur closer, he inhaled deeply, savouring the lingering scent of the wild, a subtle fragrance of her that spoke of forests and untamed lands.

Aemond took his time layering his new clothing that formerly belonged to the wildling named Yuri, one of her wildling companions. He wondered if she herself could make good clothing. Putting on the thinnest layer first, he wrapped the sheep skin next around his waist up to his chest. After several layers, he topped it off with the wildling’s distinctive camouflage fur coat. Tying it up, he peeks through his tent, finding the area already alive. Stew boiled as children ran through the snow.

Far much different that the smallfolk yet they were just as simple as they were.

He slips on his boots also made out of thick fur, possibly sheep skin.

Tying his hair like he always did since he was a child,

He looked up to the tent’s opening.

It’s time.

Parting the tent’s entrance, revealing himself as Aemond stepped out of his tent, he felt eyes on him. Some were the same, some were positive stares. Through all that, he couldn’t help but to feel a sense of insecurity washing over him. Yet he masked it well enough, walking through the crowd, searching for familiarity in this foreign world he walks in. And he finds his answer well enough when he spots her.

Sitting on a wooden log on the edge of the camp, beside the stallion he brought from castle black, sharpening her arrows. He stepped closer as his heavy footsteps stomped through the snow. Heavy enough for her to notice him, turning her head around. “Snow haired! You’re finally awake. A good night's rest, I suppose?” She teased with a childish grin across her face. “It was well enough,” he said with a smirk. His wildling friend could only smile back before carving her handmade arrows once again.

“Do you sharpen your arrows everyday?” He asked curiously.

“No, not everyday. Just for special occasions or for hunting,” she said as she shook her head. “And what is today’s occasion if I may ask?” Satisfied with his question, the she wildling turned her head once more. “We are going to take you…hunting, Prince Aemond.” Saying his title with a hint of tease, standing up before him. “Taking me for a hunt?” He repeated.

“Why yes. If you shall fight with us, we would like to see first how well you hunt. How you ride your horse, how quiet your steps are–,” tapping his feet with her bow, recalling how heavy his footsteps were wearing her kind’s heavy boots, “–and how true you were of your skills in swords and such.”

“You want me to prove myself to you?”

“Oh not to me. But to the Chief, to Gruff, to Yuri, and the whole tribe, basically. I have no doubt for you, my prince,” she mocked with a chuckle, bowing ridiculously in front of him. “Do not taint my title,” Aemond said, a bit frustrated with her childish behaviour yet his words did not scare her, it just made the situation more amusing to her. “You clearly are no fun! But is it true though? Are you actually a prince?” Her bow reaches out to swipe his hair away from his shoulder in which he swats it away with a scowl in his face. “Yes, I am.”

She snorted.

“You don’t act like one.”

Walking away to their horse, Aemond took hold of her with his grip on her arm.

“Was that supposed to be an insult?”

She snorted once again. Amused with his temper.

“You tell me,” she cockily said to him before taking her arm away.

“Besides, I can’t imagine you sitting on a tall palace drinking wine as your servant pour you more into your cup. Whilst you stare down at your people like some kind of god–,”

“–I hate to break your imagination, but I simply do not do that–,”

“–Now you just made me doubt for a second. Maybe you really did do that in your lavish castle,” she teased with a laugh. “And what? You have ten girls surrounding you?” She mocked once more, turning herself to face him as she walked backwards. “If you are asking if I have ten whores, no I do not,” he snarled. “I beg to differ, snow haired. I bet you cuddled with them all day as they fed you the ripest fruit in the realm!” She cackles, throwing her head back as she started to walk side by side with him

“And what of you? You yourself are surrounded by two men,” Aemond bickered back, playing with her games.

“Gruff and Yuri? You disgust me. They are like brothers to me.”

“But do they see you as a sister?–”

“–Gruff has a wife and Yuri has two children. Do not speak of them that way.”

Surprisingly, he was satisfied with her answer.

They walked side by side as the sun shone down on them.

“But do you actually have maidens by your side?” He heard her ask.

“Maidens? No, not all the time,” he hummed, his hands behind his back.

“Not all the time? Then when do you have maidens beside you?”

He knew of the maidens she meant. Not just ordinary girls but women who threw themselves at him. Lovers or mistresses. He recalled one or two. Sylvie and another woman he replaced her with. He doesn’t even know if Alys is considered one. But he didn’t want to admit this to her. And he does not know why. She was just a stupid wildling, why would he care what she thinks of him? She could not change his past and he should not care if it did affect the way she looked at him. But he couldn’t.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” He instead said, smiling smugly at her. And he swore to the gods he saw a faint of red tint in both of her cheeks. Surely she had them before because of the cold but he could differentiate her usual red cheeks with a woman’s natural blush. “Badly is a strong word. I was just merely curious,” she replied, inserting her arm into her bow. The one eyed prince has a smirk painted on his face as he watches his flustered friend walking ahead of him. It seems he had struck a chord. And he liked it.

Hunting was a rare activity for him at his youth. His father was too sick to even teach him how to hold a bow and arrow or even a sword. The last time he went hunting was for his ten-and-four nameday. Ser Criston Cole was the one who guided him, Aegon, and Daeron through the woods to catch the biggest boar they could find. Even in that, ser Criston was the one who slew the boar himself for the guard told him that he should not risk himself with hunting since it could put him in risk.

And now Aemond finds himself hiding between trees and shrubs, sitting close with the she wildling. The others hid in other places around them as the snow fell from the sky, slightly covering the area around them. “Look!” She said, pointing towards a doe, walking curiously around the forest as it sniffs an area uncovered by the light snow. “It should be an easy target,” smirking at the one eyed prince before lending him her bow and arrow. A crossbow, yes he has taken hold of that weapon. But to act as an archer? He is ashamed to admit that he is untalented of that particular skill. “I shall skin the deer–,”

“–No, I want you to do it. Prove to them,” she insisted, nudging his arm with her bow.

If he lied– no. There is no escape to this.

“I am untalented with this weapon,” he said, boring his healthy eye onto her eyes that resembled the doe they’re hunting. His heart rate quickened when he didn’t earn an instant answer from her. They were cramped as they hid themselves quietly from their prey. In a swift motion, she positioned herself beside him, guiding his calloused hands to her bow.

“An untalented can be talented if they try,” she whispered.

Her whisper was relevant for their situation, yet he felt tiny bumps erupted across his arms. Every word she spoke was like a spell to him, obeying her as he took the bow into his hands. Her small calloused hands guided him to the bow’s grip, close enough for him to feel his cheek pressed to hers.

“You have your foundations for archery. You just need to take another step further– Keep your grip tight, now pull the string back.”

He did as she told him to.

Fixing his fingers with hers, calloused and rough that made him want to know every single story behind it.

He took a deep breath, aiming at their prey.

“Do not let it slip. Just breathe,” she whispered to him.

Aemond’s hands were steady, but his pulse hammered like a war drum in his ears.

His bowstring flicked, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he drew the bowstring back, the taut cord singing a soft, tense note. But it hits a tree beside their prey, causing it to flinch and move from its place.

No, he failed.

“Oi! Catch that deer!” He heard Gruff say from a distance, assuming he said it to the other wildlings that came with, but Aemond wanted to prove himself. He was the one who startled it, letting it run. So he took no choice, leaping from his spot and sprinting to the deer. Startled by a human’s presence, it started to run. But Aemond was close enough to leap and trap the deer with his arms. Tackling it down, he pulled out his dagger.

Ready to stab his hunt.

But he looked down, finding the doe’s eyes looking up at him with fear.

It was alive, and it reminded him so much of her.

Doe.

He asked himself, why did he become so weak?

Was it grief? Fear? Was it all consuming his bravery?

Or did he just know how to feel once more?

To be alive like he was before they took his eye?

His train of thoughts were suddenly interrupted when an arrow shot through the doe’s body. He looked back, and saw her standing not far from him, lowering down her bow as she saw how distraught he was. She saw through his cowardliness and he was ashamed of it. All this time he thought of her as his prey, someone he could easily devour. But now he was the one who felt powerless.

He even could not shed a single blood from a doe.

“You are angry.”

The tent’s flaps were yanked open with a force that sent them flapping wildly against the tent’s sides. Aemond stormed inside as she followed along behind him. His boots pounding the earth with a ferocious rhythm that echoed the thunder of his anger. Each step was a declaration, a defiant stamp that shook through the small, confined space. He grunted, throwing his sword and dagger away.

“Snow haired–,”

“–Do not call me that!” He hissed, pointing at her as he glared the seven hells out of her.

“Is your temper that short, Aemond?”

“My temper can be as short as I please.”

Ignoring her question, he sits down and looked away at her as he felt so defeated.

“Then why was it short today? Was it because of the doe?”

“No,” he coldly replied.

“Then what is it?” She asked again, sitting on the fur covered ground beside him. Then he felt it, her hand placed on his shoulder. “If it is not because of the doe, then what is it?” Her tone is careful and gentle. Aemond forgot the last time someone asked him why he was angry. Not why he did what he did, but why he was angry. He turned his head slightly towards her direction, but not fully showing her his vulnerability.

“When you first saw me, what was the first word that came to your mind?”

A comfortable silence.

A faint laughter of small children bleeding through the tent.

“Different,” she answered honestly.

“How so?” He asked, not daring to lock his eye with her.

“Your hair. It was silver. And your posture, your physique was not big and rough like northerners,” she explained further. “Did I scare you? When we exchanged words in that bridge?” Playing with the dagger he previously tossed away. “I know I should be, and I was at first. I was scared that you would not help me or my people,” she answered again. “But did I– scared you?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, snow hair.”

A chuckle erupted from him.

A genuine one.

“It all felt so easy back then. To kill, I mean. I rode Vhagar on dragon back and burned everything to the ground as I please,” he told her, spacing off to a distance recalling his rage and anger throughout the war. “She was my pride and glory— my dragon, Vhagar. The only thing that preserved my identity and power as a Targaryen prince,”

“So you were not a kind prince,” the spearwife pointed out, listening to every word he uttered.

“I believe so. A war cannot be won merely by someone occupying a position on a council or residing in a castle. It requires more than just strategic planning and oversight from a distance. Someone has to take direct action on the battlefield, face the dangers, and engage in the conflict firsthand. That was the role I had to take on, and I embraced it more than anyone.”

“But it was not a pure act, I must admit. All the bloodshed I have done were sins that I must pay— and I believe the way to pay for my sins were to suffer like them. The Gods kept me alive a little longer for me to endure the torture I have placed upon— innocent lives at war. I suffered when I placed my foot on winterfell. I suffered when I heard of my brother’s death. I suffered when the gods left me to realize that the war was not worth all the pain.”

Throwing his dagger aside, Aemond clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles paling. It was true—he was furious. His anger was directed at his own blind ambition during the war, the realization hitting him with a pang of regret. Everything he had fought for now seemed meaningless, and he was tormented by uncertainty about his family's fate. While he remained free in the wilderness, he could only wonder what had become of them, knowing he had abandoned them in the process.

Where is duty?

Lost in his own labyrinth of his mind, he didn’t feel her shift. Their arms touched as the wildling leaned on to speak,

“Everyone who took part in a war has ever felt that way, Aemond. They all thought about what-ifs to escape for a moment from their fate. A war must be won one way or another. But even the one who wins made as many sacrifices as you did. You both endured the same grief as the other.— Both spilled as much blood as the other.”

“But you are still alive now. You might see it as a punishment, but you have a purpose in life.” Placing her palm on his chest. “You are more than just a pawn at war. This place is not your realm anymore. We live beyond the wall and you are free. You are welcome to be anything, for the wilderness does not limit the people.”

“But what is my purpose if I am not a Targaryen? What is the purpose of being free if I know that the people I love are caged in the walls of—.” He halted, a pregnant pause.

Aemond swallowed a lump in his throat, desperate for an answer.

“Then that is your purpose, is it not? You are free so you could rescue your loved ones from misery. To lead my people back into the wall— pass through it and sail your ship home. Save them from their torment. When 5 people are trapped in a cage, without any of them escaping or letting loose from its cage, they would all be trapped in that cage forever. But you— have escaped. You are outside of your cage and it is your mission to find the key and let them all out.”

As the wildling’s words flowed, a spark of intrigue ignited in the the one eyed prince’s eye. Each carefully chosen phrase seemed to resonate deeply, building a sense of connection and understanding. His posture relaxed and their gaze sharpened with growing admiration. Slowly turning his head to face his now companion.

“How old are you, wildling?” He asked.

“I just turned twenty years of age. Why do you ask?”

“I am one year older than you, yet I feel like a boy beside you.”

She smiled gently at him, letting out a bashful chuckle.

“Your mind is clouded by your emotions. I am sure you are just as intelligent as anyone.”

The air crackled with a charged tension. The girl and the prince sat close, their proximity amplifying the intensity of their unspoken connection. Shadows danced on the fabric walls as they exchanged glances that lingered longer than usual, each look revealing a flicker of vulnerability and curiosity. The silence between them was thick, filled with an electric anticipation, as if every word they might speak could unravel the depth of their hidden emotions.

“Preserving my identity as a Targaryen means so much more to me than I can imagine,” he whispered.

“Then preserve it. Don’t let it slip away from your grasp.”

Their nose almost touched as Aemond felt his body drawn to her. The way she never felt him lesser, validating his feelings that no one could ever did in his life. Helping him to crawl out from his own darkness.

Her eyes still reminded him of the doe he failed to kill. He could devour her right now if he wanted, for she was supposed to be his prey and pawn. But something changed within him. He does not wish to over power her. He does not want to exploit her the way he did with the others. She was his prey but he did not want to make her as one.

He refused to kill the doe.

He refused to harm his doe.

His doe.

Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, he sighed. “But I have changed now. I am not the same person I was in the war,” he confessed.

“Then what shall you do about it?” She asked.

Reaching out for his dagger once more, he looked down upon the sharp edge of it. “The Targaryens were identified with its silver hair, and I would like to keep it that way.”

Taking her hand gently in his, he placed the dagger in her palm.

“But I want to leave bad omen from my identity. For I have changed. My hair was long when the war started— and now it has ended. It is time to cut away the man I once was.”

a/n: they’re evolving😈😈😈 STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER🌷✨🎀

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sunghoonsslut · 1 year

Text

Knock Down P.SH

18+ Content MDNI SMUT NSFW

Genre: PWP SMUT 18+, Boxing AU, Gym trainer AU, College setting

Pairing: (Dom)Boxer Sunghoon X (Sub)Afab Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minor Do Not Interact), MC is Right handed, She/Her pronouns used in reference to MC, teasing, Handsy/touchy Hoon, strength kink, size kink, fingering, edging, mean hoon, public sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it), handjob, Cumming inside, ridding, orgasm denial/control, Mc knows nothing about boxing (and neither does the writer), somewhat manhandling, unspecified but MC is smaller than Sunghoon, name calling (Baby, Slut, Loser), 2 thigh slaps, big dick hoon :) I THINK that’s everything?? Please lmk if you think I missed anything

WC: 10.6k (This was supposed to be a short blurb like 3k max just to slowly introduce myself cnjsdvnwvn but here we are)

Song rec: Sweat by Anthony Watts

Preview : His amused chuckle hits your ear chest vibrating against your back moving any stray flyaway hairs away from your neck “What’s got you so distracted?” He whispers into your ear breath hot against your skin, catching the way you relax into his touch, stepping back slightly, getting closer to him.

LAST WARNING PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS LIST THOROUGHLY THIS IS 18+ CONTENT

“Come on, please I don’t want to do this alone,” Your friend is begging, pulling at your sleeve and distracting you with drawn-out pleads pressing her weight on your shoulder bringing you off center and away from the pile of work in front of you.

“Since when did you want to join a gym? When I suggested it last summer you said- and I quote, ‘I get plenty of dick so there isn’t a use, when I already get my cardio in’ End quote,” You pull free of her grip, smoothing out the fabric she had bunched up with an annoyed huff turning back towards the practically blank document on your laptop.

“I know but now it’s different, we could go together! And look,” She’s shoving her phone in your face so you have no choice but to watch her screen “They're offering two free boxing lessons for new joiners, the student discount is also a blessing,” She rants off the list of appealing offers listed on the gym’s website, swiping through photos to show off the luxury areas they have and how big of a place it is with a number of tennis courts, an indoor and outdoor swimming area, boxing ring, and generalized work out sections depending on what you want to do.

You groan shoving her hand away “If I say yes will you stop bugging me so I can finish this assignment,” You cave, knowing she’d continue on like this if you didn’t agree because if there is one thing your friend is, it’s persistent as she sits back in her seat grinning from ear to ear typing away on her form, filling out her information, quiet, finally settling back into your work groove. Typing away on the computer a tedious list of unanswered questions sits on the screen dual tabs opened on the laptop with the curriculum's textbook on the other side of the questions. Scrolling through skimming the lines that blur in front of you until the oncoming headache is too much and the number of questions has at least dwindled down to a mere fourteen instead of the thirty-seven you began with.

Stretching out you close the laptop only somewhat satisfied by the dent you managed to make in your work “Finally,” She swivels her chair next to you bringing out her phone, a lengthy form staring back at you.

“Can this wait till my brain isn’t fried?” You massage at your temples blinking at her phone, too mentally drained to even begin thinking about another screen to answer questions on.

nudging you in the side hard enough to leave a bruise she stays stern “You said you’d do it, no backing out now,” You mumble out a few choice words begrudgingly taking her phone to fill out the form with your information, selecting various options with your friend propped on your shoulder watching you carefully, too tired to swat her away.

It’s going smoothly getting through about half the questions, mostly basic questions about yourself when she interrupts you with an exasperated gasp causing you to pause “What are you doing? Say yes!” Your finger hovers over the No option under the question ‘Are you interested in our boxing program (The first two lessons are free for beginners)’.

“Boxing?” You turn your head to look at her eyes narrowing on her, having never mentioned anything about wanting to try boxing in the past ten years you've known her.

“Why not, it’s free,” she clicks on the yes button for you, freshly manicured nails sounding out against the screen, selecting the Beginners option from the drop-down menu when it asks for your experience level.

You let her do it not wanting to break into another argument, slumping forward slightly “You're not going to flake on me like you did when you said we should sign up for tennis are you?” She scrolls to the next section ignoring the question you asked “See this wasn’t so bad now you just gotta put in your student information for the discount and your card information,”

You don’t miss her attempt at deflecting, taking the phone back to fill in the remaining spots. Trying to believe she’d commit to this since it was her idea “It’s gonna be great!” She pats you on the back, ‘a fun activity for the two of you' At least that’s how you reasoned it to be only semi-hopeful with her long list of previous commitments that lasted a week tops.

——

After only three days you’re waking up to messages with excuses of why she can’t join your gym sessions with a suddenly packed schedule; study sessions, dates, sorority events, Frat parties, a lab, you name it she’s suddenly there, there being: anywhere but the gym; making it clear she has no intention to continue using her membership, leaving you to go alone. Having already paid for the first month you might as well get some use out of it. Mentally noting you’d just cancel the subscription before it charges you for the upcoming month.

Today wasn’t any different, phone vibrating in your pocket the second you entered the gym with her ‘So, SO sorry, I really can’t today, woke up sore :(’ text message making you groan clicking your phone off without bothering to reply. It didn’t necessarily come as a surprise her ditching you as she has been the last few weeks but the least she could have done was show up for the boxing lesson she essentially forced on you, especially with a confirmation email a week in advance from the instructor, Sunghoon, and her assuring you that she ‘wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ over the phone the day before.

Setting your bag down by the boxing area of the gym contemplating if you should just leave, you didn’t even want to box in the first place. Weighing your options you scroll through your feed, images of your friend at a party the night before popping up after a few random sponsored posts building up annoyance clenching your jaw swiping through a thread to see the progression of just how drunk she had gotten. The photos get progressively blurry and unfocused with each swipe, the last photo being so fuzzy it’s hard to even recognize her sitting on the lap of some frat guy making out.

You reach for your bag deciding to leave before the instructor shows up, maybe eat a pint of ice cream and watch some dated movie that aged badly to drown out your annoyance instead of subjecting yourself to an hour of bag punching “Hey,” a voice speaks out drawing you away from your phone to glimpse up at the new voice before you can back out dropping your hand and taking in the man standing in front of you his breathtaking appearance, freshly bleached hair, pointed jawline, and beautiful beauty marks dot his face like a constellation, a constellation you could easily get lost in forever looking at.

“I think one other person is joining us so we can wait a bit to see if they’ll come,” he sets his water bottle next to your things stretching his built arms across his body as if he couldn't get more attractive. You set your head back slightly conflicted, no way you could walk out now, not without a reasonable excuse at least, and it’s not like you could say he had the wrong person with the area being completely empty aside from the two of you.

You look back at him as he’s setting things up before you find your voice “She’s not,” it comes out sounding more bitter than you intended watching the way he raises an eyebrow silently questioning how you could know that.

“I mean,” You take in a deep breath poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue trying to bite back the things you really want to say, “she’s my friend, and sent me a message saying she couldn’t make it.. sick” you backtrack explaining your reaction which softens his features.

“I see, I prefer one on one anyways, easier to focus, you’ve got my undivided attention,” he assures you, pushing his hair out of his face, eyes looking over you, in the matching workout attire you choose to wear, making sure to wear your hair out of your face as he suggested in the email silently glad that your friend canceled so he could get someone as stunning as you alone to himself.

Stretching his arms high above his head, your eyes skim over the definition of his muscles seeing how strong he is watching the faint flex of his arm eyes trailing down to where skin peeks out from where his shirt rises showing off a bit of his toned abdomen shorts hanging low enough on his hips to show the V line, making you sweat without having even started yet “Go easy on me?” voice shifting tone with nerves slightly cracking, you look back over his face, soft smile an antithesis to the rest of his body language.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to throw you around just yet,” he assures you with a wink hearing the infliction in your voice, finding it cute how nervous he makes you.

“We’ll start easy, you want to show me how you think you’re supposed to stand?” Sunghoon motions for you to take the floor and demonstrate, eyes widening at the request, suddenly even standing was a doubtful action.

Raising from where you were sitting you scratch over your neck avoiding looking at your instructor, “So, I’ve never actually boxed before…” you shuffle your weight from foot to foot trying to focus on anything else “I’ve never even watched a boxing match,” You admit, slightly embarrassed having not even looked up a youtube video for the basics in preparation.

He lets out a laugh that echoes off the empty walls of the usual lively gym deserted with classes in full swing across campus, taking a step closer to you, but keeping just enough space so you aren’t uncomfortable, “that’s okay, I don’t expect you to be able to knock me out, I’m just curious I’ll fix your stance,” uncertain you stand with your legs slightly apart and bring your fists up in front of your chest.

Encircling around you his eyes take in the way you’ve stood it feels wrong, especially under his sharp eyes analyzing you making you subconsciously straighten up as Sunghoon goes into instructor mode, “Can I touch you?” His eyes meet yours as soon as he’s done looking over you, waiting for a response before he does anything, your throat feeling hoarse “Y-yeah,” you mentally slap yourself for tripping over your words clearing your throat. Stopping behind you, you can hear his soft chuckle hit your ears, finding the little hiccup “cute,” sending a shudder through your body.

Sunghoon’s hands make contact with your waist fingers pressing in just enough to slightly indent “Okay, now are you right or left-handed?” his hands are warmer than you thought they’d be noting how they sat against your skin bigger than yours as he holds you perfectly.

“Right,” you answer still focused on the mere size difference between you both “We’re gonna bring your right leg back, a little bit wider than shoulder width,” he’s explaining breath fanning over your neck as he starts his demonstration, his left hand continues to rest on your waist, right hand trailing down and cupping your hip applying slight pressure to let you know to step back and angle yourself following his lead. Sunghoon lets you adjust to the new stance habitually rubbing your hip with his thumb as you try and focus on what he’s saying.

“That’s good, This base stance makes you appear smaller so you’re not as big of a target as for your hands you just gotta bring them up by your head and raise your shoulders…” you can’t help the way your mind drifts fixated on his hand rubbing your hip, subtly pressing harder and wondering how they’d feel elsewhere with how easily you fit in his grip hands against your body expertly, eyes falling closed, losing yourself in the feeling momentarily you breathe out a small “yeah,” mindlessly replying mid-explanation without realizing it.

Pausing his instructions the side of his lips raises “You got that then?” He stills his hands waiting for a response knowing fully well he didn’t even finish his entire explanation and you return back to what’s going on “Hm?” You let out confused blinking to yourself realizing you zoned out halfway through his directions.

His amused chuckle hits your ear chest vibrating against your back moving any stray flyaway hairs away from your neck “What’s got you so distracted?” He whispers into your ear breath hot against your skin, catching the way you relax into his touch, stepping back slightly, getting closer to him.

“Nothing, I just..” you try to think up excuses, but the only thing that comes to mind is the way Sunghoon’s muscular body feels pressed against yours, licking over your lip feeling dryer than usual now as you try and figure out what to say.

“Don’t worry it’s just the two of us, tell me what you were thinking about?” He reminds you of the empty area fingers ghosting over your side with feathering touches that feel like electricity driving you crazy.

“It’s just your hand..” You lose your train of thought momentarily when he resumes his ministrations massaging your side as if asking you to continue reminding you exactly why you interrupted him.

Nose presses up against your neck inhaling against your skin “What about my hands?” The proximity makes it difficult to focus, almost dizzying, letting your shoulders drop and relaxing into his body further feeling closer than before, head lolling to the side giving him more access, tempting to kiss over the expanse of your neck that he can reach.

You’re resisting the urge to mewl out with every move of his hands pressing into you deeper with a bruising grip while inching inwards dangerously close to your center “They-” You don’t finish your thought when the sound of someone clearing their throat sounds out against the room “Damn, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Leaning against the entrance to the boxing area Jay watches the two of you with arms crossed gym bag hanging low off his shoulder, and a raised eyebrow, amused. Sunghoon unimpressed meets his friend's eyes from where he stands behind you looking over you once more trying to memorize the way you look under his temptation in this moment before creating some distance between you regrettably, giving his friend the side eye you’re jolted out of the almost hypnotic trance Sunghoon had on you.

“Just doing a lesson,” Sunghoon grits out annoyed with the sudden intrusion on his instruction cracking his knuckles.

“I can see that,” Jay chuckles looking over you for a second before stepping further into the gym “Hee and I are just gonna spar for a bit so don’t mind us,” He explains heading over to the practice ring in the middle of the room, hiking his gym bag up his arm.

Embarrassment rushes through your face feeling hot with emotion just with how you were acting you bury your head into a nearby punching bag “Get it together…” you mumble to yourself trying to reassure yourself it’s just a boxing lesson and shouldn’t be getting hot and bothered like this from feeling up your instructor.

“Hey it’s okay,” Sunghoon tries to reassure you, pulling you away and off the bag wanting to get back to teaching now that Jay decided to insert himself into things and make things difficult.

Bouncing in through the door, Heeseung glances around for Jay sight landing on you and Sunghoon, eyes double taking on you. straightening up and walking towards the two of you, not even bothering to look at Jay who’s in the complete opposite direction.

You look over at the familiar figure making his way over to you as if you couldn’t get more embarrassed, Sunghoon sees the way you shy away from his friend and turns to talk to him.

“Didn’t see you guys on the schedule for using the ring,” Sunghoon explains to Heeseung who just gives him a hum more interested in talking to you.

“So, you’re taking boxing lessons?” Hee asks starting to wrap his hands almost expertly only looking down to confirm it’s in the right places but his attention seems fixated on you.

“Oh yeah, my friend signed us up for them,” You explain looking down at Heeseung’s hands with interest unsure how he was able to do that so quickly.

Sunghoon clears his throat slightly, bringing your attention back to him, eyes finding his “So you know Heeseung?” Sunghoon asks, wondering exactly how much you knew about his friend.

“Yeah, he helped me out with figuring out some of the equipment a few days ago,” you explain the memories and feelings of embarrassment flooding through you as if just a few seconds ago wasn’t bad enough.

Cursing out as you try and figure out how exactly this machine worked having just seen some guy using it not too long ago you sit in a similar position attempting to use it but nothing budging, about to give up and move on to something else, something you know, a treadmill is easy enough to navigate.

“Hey, you need to change the weight on it,” a voice explains, smiling softly and pointing to the weights on the side catching you off guard unaware someone was watching you struggle as you make eye contact with the guy to your side who must’ve been working out close by with the way his hair drips with sweat sides of his face lined with droplets water bottle in his hand.

Burying your face in your hands you shake your head “Sorry… I don’t do this a lot…” you mumble as the guy fixes up the amount of weight looking you over to try and gauge how much you could handle while also getting a better look at how pretty you are.

“Give that a try, let me know if it’s too much or if you need more,” he waits for you to use it, nodding you pull and it moves with a bit of pressure as opposed to before.

You let out a relieved sigh giving the stranger a small nod “Works great… thanks…” you pause having not caught his name as he shoots you a wink “Heeseung, anything at all don’t hesitate to ask,” he offers before running off to finish his own workout.

The brief interaction left you embarrassed hoping to never meet him again purely in the fact to not relive those memories, but as your luck happens to be it was not in your favor.

“You know me always wanting to help out the newbies,” Heeseung nudges his friend but his eyes stay transfixed on you which Sunghoon notices with a clenched jaw he rolls his eyes, “Yeah always so generous,” he grits out unimpressed

“I’m actually really good, some would even say better than Hoon,” Heeseung gets back on the topic of boxing again making you eye between the two friends Sunghoon’s eyes roll and arms stretching out to show off his arms.

Sunghoon lets out a brief laugh shaking his head letting his hair fall in his face “Is that why I knocked you out last week?” he questions with a head tilt leaving the older to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“What if we-” Heeseung is about to challenge his friend but doesn’t finish as Jay nudges his friend harshly in his side making a face you're unable to see but it’s enough of a signal to let the taller one know to knock it off Heeseung mouthing what looks like a ‘why?’ towards his friend.

“Okay, you think you can show me the stance?” Sunghoon steps in front of you arms crossed showing off his strong build clearly annoyed by the interruption while blocking your view of his friends forcing you to focus back on him.

It takes you a few seconds to process the question but answer with a “Sure,” trying to sound confident attempting to remember all the things he just told you, you move in slow motion bringing your right foot back and raising your shoulders upwards followed by your fists on both sides of your head looking upwards at your instructor as if asking if it was correct.

Stepping closer to you his eyes bounce from your lips to your eyes and before you can ask if it’s correct his thumb lightly grazes over your bottom lip tugging it down slightly with the motion falling to trap your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Don’t forget to tuck that chin, don’t want to hurt that pretty face,” he applies enough pressure with his thumb to have you tuck downwards to your chest, eyes never leaving yours.

“Perfect,” He approves removing his hand, making you ease up a bit letting out a breath only for him to take a step closer making you freeze up faces inches apart, “Don’t let your guard down, and always focus on your opponent,” he reminds you, laughing at the way you silently blink at him words caught in your throat.

“I’m really close aren’t I?” He points out watching the way you hum and nod “Probably shouldn’t let your opponent this close, right?” He cocks his head to the side waiting for a reply other than silence moving a section of hair away from your face to demonstrate just how close he is.

“Probably,” you try and focus on what he’s saying other than the dizzying closeness your eyes lingering on his lips and how if you leaned forward even a little yours would press against his.

“So, let me show you how to get away,” he explains moving away to better demonstrate and you can’t help but miss the close proximity swallowing your nerves and trying to remind yourself this is a boxing lesson he was just doing his job.

“You don’t want to trip so, shuffle backward, never let your legs cross, move the leg furthest back and then follow it with the other leg,” Sunghoon demonstrates shuffling back away from you a few feet then forward and back again signaling for you to demonstrate it as well. You do as he explains moving back by shuffling back foot then front foot until you’re far enough away and then switching to move back towards him easily finding the movement and reaching him.

You do the same exercise but side to side and when you’re back in front of him you stop taking a moment to look up at him and how he’s taller than you making you look up at him “That was easy,” You shrug making him tilt his head and hum.

“Oh? How about this then,” He pauses taking a few steps back before continuing “you get a head start but you have to shuffle away from me and try to not let me corner you,” He challenges “If it’s so easy,” he adds you let out a breath not meaning to challenge his instruction but you accept it waiting for his signal to start unsure how sure you are that you can evade him, your eyes meet his and he gives you a nod giving you to go ahead and just like a game of hide and seek he’s counting down.

From ten you start shuffling away from him backward trying to create enough distance it wouldn’t be too hard to get away and after what feels like less than a few seconds “Zero,” leaves his lips making you look up to see him moving forward almost too quickly shuffling your direction with ease eyes focused completely on you like his next meal.

You freeze with the progress he’s managed to make in just a few seconds causing you to fall behind as you compose yourself starting to shuffle away from him again backing up while you look at him and you go as far as you could until you’re met with cold.

Back hitting the concrete wall behind you, you panic tearing your eyes away to see your options boxing bags on both sides of you before your vision fixes back over to Sunghoon who is significantly closer with his long legs giving him an advantage with how much further he can move, reaching you a few seconds later and caging you between his arms body pressing against you as he lets out a disappointed tsk “Caught you,” he shakes his head as you let out a shocked squeal noise caught off guard.

He glances at the watch on his wrist that has a stopwatch going to see how long it would take “Fifteen seconds? Not so easy then was it?” He sounds disappointed shaking his head, you give him a half smile almost embarrassed you couldn’t last a little longer.

He stays unmoving just looking at you waiting for you to tell him to move “Probably shouldn’t let my opponents this close,” you point out nervously unsure where to rest your hands that were previously at your side.

His face is right next to yours looking at you catching the way you avoid looking directly at him as a hand comes up helping to cup your jaw turning your face to look at him cocking his head waiting on your reply, dry swallowing your anxieties now forced to give him your full attention “Probably,” his lower half is pressed into you one leg slotted between your two making the room spin as if it were still just the two of you pressed against each other pressure on your lower halves clearly affecting both of you wanting to move against his leg for anything more.

“Ah, Fuck,” A thud follows the curse making you look away and just past Sunghoon to see what the commotion was, Sunghoon peering back over his shoulder as well to see Heeseung in a headlock, courtesy of Jay. Sunghoon lets out a sigh backing away to release you.

“Let me go you asshole,” Heeseung tries to peel his friend away, Sunghoon stands with his arms crossed watching the two shaking his head at the bickering pair

Turning towards you Sunghoon doesn’t let his voice carry leaning downwards to whisper against your ear sending chills up your spine “Things can get worse if you get cornered so just be aware of your surroundings, let's work on some basic jabs and blocks for now,” you silently agree following him over to a punching bag embarrassingly wet with arousal sticking to your underwear from him barely doing anything.

——-

God, of course, he was using the gym at the same time as you, he seemed like the only person you were running into recently. Sitting on a bench with your small weights placed in front of you, getting lost in the way his sweat-soaked shirt sticks to his skin, remembering the way he felt pressed up behind you his silk-like voice whispering against your ear. How he had you caged against him and the wall driving you insane. Now watching the way his muscles flexed with each curl of the weight in his grip wondering how easy it would be for him to just grab you and pin you up against-

“Are you just gonna keep eye fucking him?” Your friend’s voice asks in a sneer making you jump caught off guard and tearing your eyes away from Sunghoon to see her dressed in workout attire hair up and arms crossed in judgment.

Her eyes are jumping between you and Sunghoon across the gym “What the fuck?” You ask, hand over your chest at the sudden intrusion both confused and caught off guard unsure how long she’s been standing there or even how long you were watching him.

“What? Didn’t we sign up for the gym together?” She points out with an almost “Duh” sound following her statement making you scoff at the way she tried to shield blame from herself knowing fully well the shock it is to see her here.

“You haven’t been here in weeks,” you point out crossing your arms to match her energy, still bitter, having gotten to the point you don’t even bother asking if she’ll go.

She waves her hand off playing it off as the past is the past “And I thought you were actually using the gym not just using your membership to stare at Sunghoon,” she turns the conversation to you, something she was very good at doing recently and especially to get details.

“I am using it, he was my boxing instructor,” you pick up one of your weights to demonstrate you using the gym ‘technically’.

“I know, I signed us up for him specifically,” she reminds you that she made the point of vying for boxing lessons, not that you could forget, still mad at her for ditching you, “You’re welcome,” she adds with a smile and subtle wink you don’t miss.

She proceeds to join you on the bench uncaring that you might actually want to work out and not gossip “So have you guys fucked yet? Or are you playing the long game,” she unabashed asks as if he isn’t a few feet away eyes going wide.

“He’s just my instructor,” you hiss out shushing her looking back over to Sunghoon to make sure he hasn’t suddenly appeared next to you like she summoned him or something.

“So not yet then,” she frowns adding in a “boo,” out of disappointment, she looks over at him eyes scanning over him making you more annoyed as you adjust your seat so you’re in the way of her seeing him uncaring as she catches on to your maneuver.

“If you must be so invasive, no we haven’t,”

“Well you should soon, he’s looking right at you,” She brags making you still unsure if she was trying to get a reaction out of you, giving her arm a very light punch and a nervous laugh not daring to look over too nervous she was lying like she usually does.

“Now tell me about this guy you abandoned me to go fuck,” You turn it back on her tiered of her always questioning you wanting to know the details of what her recent reason has been for avoiding the gym.

Letting out an annoyed groan she rubs over her face, “Don’t get me started on him, he’s a great kisser but he was shit at everything else, I mean how is he gonna pass out after only one round, and didn’t even make me cum?” she lets out an exacerbated sigh as she continues on about her failed attempts to find good dick, and a part of you can’t help but consider this her karma.

-------------------

“I’m sorry for crashing your plans to nail that girl,” Jay apologizes to his friend who is mid-set curling a weight, strong biceps on full display with rolled-up sleeves a group of girls by the water fountain conveniently all using it watching the two Jay taking note of a particularly cute girl but Sunghoon keeps working uncaring of his entourage.

“Yeah, you and Heeseung are like permanent cockblocks,” Sunghoon grunts out as he completes a rep working out his frustration from the other day unable to get you in particular off his mind and the way you melted into him.

“You aren’t any better, and you didn’t exactly send a ‘hey guys I’m gonna go ahead and fuck the girl I’m supposed to be instructing,’ text,” Jay tries to argue not that it would have stopped the pair from showing up most likely feigning ignorance.

Leaning down next to his friend Jay decides to explain his reasons for bothering Sunghoon mid-set “But I just happen to have a foolproof plan,” Jay boasts eyes making their way over to a particular duo of giggling girls one happening to be you.

“This isn’t going to be like that new year's party again, is it?” Sunghoon questions skeptical of his friend remembering Jay’s last idea and just how horrible that night ended. Placing the pair of weights on the ground by his feet and letting himself have a small rest period to talk to Jay.

“That… look do you want my help or not?”

Bringing his towel up towards his face to dab the sweat that's built up on his face away “What’s this genius idea of yours?” Sunghoon muses taking in his friend’s annoyance, tipping his water bottle back to let the cool liquid fall down his throat eyes falling over to where you’re sitting across the gym, talking with another girl, laughing.

“I’ll need something from you after but…” He follows his friend’s line of sight over to you, amused. “That can come after,” Jay brings his attention back over to get into the discussion.

“Let’s do it,” Sunghoon can't stand not having you a second longer already intrigued and frustrated, eyes working their way over you not caring that your friend is watching him check you out as he listens to Jay’s plan on how exactly they would get you alone.

——-

Finishing up your set and wiping down your area with sanitary wipes you spot a figure walking towards you out of the corner of your eye moving out of the way so that they could use the equipment walking over to where you set your bag down. Squatting down to find the headphone case you had thrown in haphazardly.

Walking past the cleaned station without a pause making their way over to you. Looking up at the fast-approaching guy you recognize him in an instant in his black muscle tee that shows off his figure arms looking bigger than the last time you saw him, blond hair sticking to his forehead from his own workout, the inescapable Park Sunghoon.

Dabbing away droplets of sweat from your warmup you silently admire the way he manages to look so good even covered in a layer of sweat “What’s up?” You take out your headphones to hear him dropping the case back into your bag.

Looking down at you where you’re squatting down already has his mind turning “I need a practice buddy,” he points over his shoulder towards the practice ring where you’ve watched him and Heeseung go at it a couple of times, always so intimidated by the way they fought always worried one of them could actually get injured.

Going over the request in your head you can’t help the bubbling anxious feeling in your chest “Then go use Jay,” You nod your head over to the mop of Brown hair sitting and gulping down his water on a nearby bench with his head thrown back having just finished his own workout by the way his hair drips in sweat.

“I fight him all the time. I need someone different,” You give him a skeptical look, Sunghoon is a great boxer, and with only one lesson you definitely lacked skill especially to go against someone clearly as seasoned as him, this isn’t like when he was teaching you exactly.

“Don’t you need a challenge? I hardly think beating up a newbie is going to help you get better,” you shove up against the ground to your feet trying to stay resilient and not give in to him.

“Maybe I can teach you a thing or two,” he offers throwing in a “free of charge,” to entice you while dragging you by your wrists closer to the practice ring where you miss the wink Jay sends his friend followed by a thumbs up. “Besides, there's only so much you can do with a bag, the real thing is much harder,” he persuades as if it made sense to just jump right in his thumbs rubbing against your wrist trying to soothe any nerves with a smile.

“I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry,” he assures you, seeing the hesitation drawn across your face with knit eyebrows and an apparent internal battle with yourself as you stare down at his hands holding yours doing more to send goosebumps through your whole body with memories of the last time it was just the two of you in such close proximity.

You know deep down it’s not a good idea that he probably has some ulterior motive but the way he smiles at you makes it so tempting “Look it’s just us here anyways so no one will even see when you lose,” you look over to where Jay was sitting noting his spot now empty looking up at Sunghoon giving a slight nod of affirmation sealing your fate as he perks up practically dragging you over to where they keep some of the spare boxing equipment.

“You better go easy on me,” you warn, grabbing at the pair of gloves that fit you, Sunghoon’s hand on the small of your back drags your mind away from boxing momentarily almost dropping the gloves.

His laugh fills your senses looking up to watch his smile overtake his face “I just want to help you out,” he walks over to his own bag to pick out his personal gloves. Sliding on the gloves you nervously glance over to where Sunghoon is setting up watching when he lifts his shirt up slightly to wipe off some of the sweat that had stuck to his forehead giving you a better look at his toned muscular stomach hard abs shining in sweat caught up in a daze before he drops his shirt watching the way you stare at him flexing his arms to show off how hard he’d been working. When you’re finally done thirsting over your opponent you close your eyes tight trying to picture anything other than Sunghoon’s gorgeous body, thighs rubbing together out of habit.

“You ready?” He’s in front of you when you open your eyes, stretching an arm across his body, muscles flexing with the move as you stumble over your words.

When you do manage to get out an actual answer he’s helping you into the ring plastic mat cool under your bare feet.

As soon as you step into the box his entire demeanor changes he’s watching you like a tiger prepared for your moves like you’re the latest prey. Yeah, you fucked up, You gulp down the nerves stepping closer which he doesn’t show concern from as you bring your fists up, chin tucked just like he taught you.

“Bring your leg back, remember?” Sunghoon points out so you can adjust before you start, your foot goes back angling yourself just like Sunghoon had taught you nerves already getting to you.

“Ready?” He asks tilting his head before taking a similar stance, you gulp down giving the tiniest “yeah,” and just like that it starts, you stay unmoving waiting to see what his first move will be not wanting to be the catalyst that starts it too nervous to throw the first punch, he starts by moving around the outer part of the ring, you following his lead stepping, in turn, shorter legs moving around closer to the center to keep your distance almost too focused on your legs and not tripping and just moving that when he’s moved forward and is now in front of you it catches you off guard.

Sending one of your firsts forward he expertly blocks it, returning it with his own unexpected punch that lands as you wince at the action rubbing at the spot on your arm where he hit. “Don’t let up now,” he reminds you right when he sends another punch your way, and before you can react he’s hitting you in the chest gearing up for another punch that you’re luckily able to block, letting out an annoyed huff taking a shuffle back “Good block,” he’s quick to praise before shuffling forward, longer strides making him closer than previously as you land a punch on his arm that has no effect on him and makes you stumble more than anything.

Recentering yourself and getting your footing he takes the opportunity to punch your side lightly, never fully using his strength, still letting out a groan instinctively going to rub it but before you know it he’s shuffling forward, so close that out of shock, you step back, feet colliding together tripping yourself and sending you backward hitting the mat you can feel the air leave your lungs trying to gasp a breath down at the impact.

Sunghoon wastes no time in shedding his gloves throwing them to the side before he’s on top of you pinning you down on the ground too easily only using one of his hands to hold the two of yours down at the wrists above your head while you just attempt to regain your breath from the hit chest moving up and down with each struggling breath gasping for air with his weight on top of you, not completely but enough to restrict the airflow.

“Get off… of me,” you’re finally able to huff out between heavy inhales his body which is slotted in between your legs and on top of you is restricting your already struggling airflow, attempting to pull your hands downwards and free only for his grip to tighten keeping you still, a satisfied smile covering his face enjoying the way you struggle against his strength.

“Are you okay?” It’s an odd question considering that he’s the reason for your struggling on and off the mat, and in any other circumstance it would be a sweet gesture but not right in this moment “I’ll be better once you let me go,”

You let out a high-pitched frustrated whine struggling to get free, a sound, Sunghoon enjoys a little too much with an increasingly hard situation forming in his shorts you attempt to pull your arms down once again before trying to push up off the mat which is impossible, as your hips meet his keeping you down, Sunghoon has to hold back from moaning at the movement. “What happened to going easy on me?” You pout still trying to get your hands free bulky gloves not helping unable to grip anything so with no luck you lay there under him limply.

“I was,” he wipes the loose strands of hair out of your face with his free hand subtly tracing over your features with every brush showing no signs that he’s tired. You scoff at the claim hints of the strawberry smoothie you had earlier still on your breath which hits Sunghoon’s nose.

“Since when did this turn into wrestling?” You attempt to push up but his body keeps you in place pressing against his “Since you lasted a minute at most,” he estimates letting you struggle against him rutting up to try and push him off only doing more to make him hard every push forward as he keeps you grounded under him.

You resort to wrapping your legs around his waist for any kind of leverage trying to move him by shifting all your weight side to side without any luck the only thing you’re doing is grinding against Sunghoon’s lower half forcing him to release a low grunt with the stimulation you’re providing, “What do I have to do for you to get off of me,” you give in, laying your head back against the mat in defeat, tired of fighting, wasting the little strength you do have, it’s clearly having no effect on him as he’s not even breathing heavily.

“I have a couple of ideas,” his free hand moves to play with the band of your shorts making you gulp down your throat going dry “If you’re up to it, of course,” he presses down on you further with his hips boner evident as soon as he rolls his hips against yours making you realize exactly what you did in your struggle to get free.

A choked gasp leaves your lips eyes widened looking down between the two of you noticing the evident hard-on he’s developed straining against the front of his gym shorts slowly raising your eyes and meeting his playful gaze “What do you say?” Face leaning in closer to yours, noses now brushing against each other.

A ping of worry hugs your chest “What if someone walks in?” You can’t help but be anxious letting your head fall to the side attempting to glance over at the double doors, vision obscured by a pillar.

Sunghoon cups your jaw bringing your face forward towards him so you have to look at him “Don’t worry, Jay’s making sure no one comes in,” he assures you a droplet of sweat landing on your forehead as he holds your face straight.

“He’s in on this?” If you could hit him in the chest, you would but with your hands tied up at the moment all you’re able to do is look at him dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape blinking up at him.

“Yeah, told him I’d let him beat me to impress this cam girl he’s been obsessing over, so what do you say?” his mouth hovers above yours, lips tempting you.

You can’t deny the way he makes your hormones go haywire with even the slightest proximity and how often he’s been circling around your brain recently especially late at night in your room with nothing but your fingers to satisfy you “Aren’t you curious?” he shoves into you again, any apprehensive thoughts leaving your mind hot breath over your lips.

“Fuck it,” you concede leaning upwards to press your lips to his, difficult with your hands above your head but he presses back forcing you back sandwiched between himself and the mat, lips crashing into yours with haste, working his hands to get the boxing gloves off your hands as you feel lost in his lips working expertly against yours, tongue pressing into your mouth for more, it’s intoxicating letting him take control his lips working with desperation over yours.

Shoving the gloves off you roll your wrists adjusting to the new freedom, Sunghoon’s hands instantly start traveling down your body squeezing occasionally over your curves hands pressing your hips down with a bruising grip keeping you in place and letting you know he’s still running the show.

With free hands you sneak them under his shirt curious touch moving over his abdomen, tracing over every dip and defined line of his abdominal muscles counting as his shirt raises the higher your touch goes forcing him to break the kiss and throw it off for you to admire the body you’ve only gotten teasing peeks at up until now, he’s towering over you straddling your lap “Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you’ve been staring at me, begging like a slut for me to fuck you,” You mindlessly nod biting your lower lip to hide the embarrassing whine you want to let out, reaching out to feel him again, before you can he’s fast to capture your wrists pinning them next to your body making you struggle again wiggling to try and get free and feel him again.

“Wait your turn,” he reminds you that he’s still got the upper hand kissing over your neck painfully agonizing taking his time.

Making his way downwards peppering kisses along your collarbone until he meets the top of your bra eyes fixated on yours maintaining eye contact “Keep your hands off,” he pauses kissing over the top of the bra you’re wearing “Until I get this off,” You let out a frustrated whine but obliged his request nodding, not trusting your voice, letting up his grip on your wrists you resist the temptation to cling to him taking in a deep inhale chest rising looking all the more enticing kissing over the fabric and around, driving you crazy with each avoiding move you distract yourself by tugging your shorts down partially, trying to give your hands something to do until he gives you what you want.

Finally, his hand is pulling at the zipper in front, grateful you chose to wear a sports bra with easy access. It feels like forever as he unveils more of your chest until you feel the fabric separate, cold air from the air conditioner blasting hitting your chest making you shudder. a low groan from Sunghoon “fuck you’re perfect,” follows as he’s quick to make contact with your chest lips wrapping around one breast making you mewl out eyes shutting struggling to shrug off the fabric arching upwards towards him assisting only by lifting your back upwards closer to him and his mouth making you whimper.

As soon as your bra is shoved off your needy touch clings to him, like honey you’re a fly trapped in his presence grabbing onto his broad shoulders his tongue swirling over the hard bud making you moan out loudly, bouncing off the walls of the empty area. Core dripping with arousal rutting against his thigh subtly to try and get more relief, impatient, not going unnoticed by him.

Releasing your breast with a pop he shoves the shorts you got half off all the way down with one strong yank “What were you saying about my hands the other day?” He asks, kissing up your jaw to your ear fingers ghosting over your clothed core in a teasing manner making you shudder with anticipation.

“Mmmm, they feel so nice,” you recall the moments before you got interrupted, overwhelming thoughts now coming true better than you imagined.

“They do?” He presses down against the fabric of your underwear, feeling how wet you’ve already got them, hips bucking up for more pressure making you whimper “You’re soaked,” he remarks letting your head nod yes “for you,” you desperately breathe out needing more pushing your underwear deeper seeping in your desire.

You’re groaning out at the teasing wanting him to do something about to whine out for more before you feel him pulling your underwear to the side he can feel exactly how slicked up you’ve gotten two fingers teasing your folds purposefully ghosting over your clit until you let out a loud complaint “Please Hoon!” You beg, trying to buck your hips for just a little more, Sunghoon’s low laugh hitting your ears, “Please what? Sluts know what they want.” He stills his movements completely making you cry out, pathetic over Sunghoon.

“Your fingers, Please, Please, need them in- '' You moan out when you feel him press two digits in, arching upwards sound of your skin lifting up off the mat previously stuck to it from the mixture of heat and sweat. Starting at an agonizingly slow pace working his fingers in and out of you listening to the way you let out pathetic noises pulling his fingers almost fully out before sinking back into your heat occasionally spreading his fingers out for more of an impact “More, please, Hoon, I need more,” giving into your begs he changes up to a brutal pace, fingers moving in and out quicker than you can register thumb moving over your clit making you let out incoherent babbles he knows exactly what he’s doing watching the way you turn into a puddle under him letting out pretty high pitched noises.

Curling his fingers to hit different areas you’re a mess, wet noises sounding out with every press inward trying to contain your high mouth biting down on his shoulder, you practically yell out when he finds your sweet spot, “Right there,” he angles his fingers to hit that spot repeatedly you’re squeezing down on his fingers with a vice “Gonna cum-” you mumble out against his neck your mind going fuzzy begging to reach that familiar high which is so close a series of whimpers leaving your mouth until the minute he retracts his fingers making you curse out “no, no, no Stop playing with me,” You’re pathetic begging dripping in sweat desperate for him to let you win arousal leaking out onto the mat under you, lips grazing over yours looking into his eyes with the most pleading look you can muster your nails dig into his back.

He presses his lips to yours for a brief kiss before he’s speaking against your mouth “Losers don’t get to cum before me,” He points out taking no pity on you with a jutted-out lip gripping onto his back, nails probably leaving marks as you nod “Take your prize then” your hand wanderers downwards between you both pausing over the evident bulge straining against the fabric of his shorts your finger trails over it teasing him as he did you while sizing up just how big he is gulping down. “Open,” Sunghoon tells you watching the way you almost instantly open your mouth, the fingers he had just taken out of you pushing into your mouth for you to lick clean of your own arousal. Starting to palm over the fabric making him curse out lowly when you squeeze over the base unsteady breaths leaving his lips as he watches the way you move your hand over his underwear working up a pace, strokes getting progressively quicker while sucking on his fingers at the same time, it feels sinful.

“Keep going,” he encourages hissing out when you slip your cold hand into the material wanting to feel him completely, heavy in your hand and warm you work over him. He’s bigger than you thought as you tease his tip where precum is leaking out making him throw his head back a low groan leaves his mouth, muscles tensing, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth dripping in saliva.

Hand wrapping around your wrist to still your movements looking up at Sunghoon, raising an eyebrow at him “Why do you want me to stop?” You question, face coming closer to yours “Because I want to see you ride me,” he pulls your hand out of his pants wanting to avoid cumming in his pants before he even gets to feel you.

Pushing his shorts and boxers down in one movement, letting his dick hard and aching for release rest against your stomach making you gulp down seeing the mere size you let out a whimper satisfying him as he lets out a soft chuckle, “Not even in you yet and you’re making all these noises.” he taunts pulling your underwear that wasn’t even coving your core off to join his.

“You can take it, be my good little slut,” he kisses the tip of your nose dick pressing against your stomach showing you just how deep he’s going to be in you making you clench around nothing but needing him “You’re so big,”.

Maneuvering the two of you so that you’re on his lap straddling him “Show me you can take it,”. You grind down on him which elicits a moan as you smile to yourself before positioning his dick at your entrance slowly taking your time to sink down on him as you moan directly into his ear while he starts to suck on your neck. He bucks his hips up ever so slightly on purpose making you let out another surprise moan.

“Fuck Sunghoon, you’re huge” you pant out holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself and prepare yourself already squeezing down on him barely halfway in. Hands gripping your hips he uses his thumbs to rub soothingly against your skin trying his best not to fuck you from below.

He watched the way your face contorts gasping out with every inch eyes squeezing shut in preparation “Pussy keeps sucking me in asking for more,” He eyes stay trained on where the two of you meet watching the way he’s almost fully inside feeling the way you squeeze down on him, it’s addictive.

“Almost there,” he’s impatient wanting to let you adjust but his hips jump up and he’s fully sheathed inside of you making you gasp out at the deepness hugging onto his shoulders to steady yourself resting your forehead against his.

He’s rubbing at your side smiling “wanna see you bounce,” he says after giving you a few seconds to adjust still squeezing him tightly still shocked at the way you managed to take him all.

He’s assisting you with small movements starting with rocking up and down “Just like that baby,” he lets you take over the movement feeling the way you wrap around him when he fills you up, you’re moving up and down more still trying to work up a quicker pace.

It’s not like you’ve never ridden anyone before but it’s been a while and never anyone nearly as big as Sunghoon who seems to be reaching new places inside of you.

You keep your small bounces Sunghoon’s hips moving up to meet yours making you clench down hard letting out a noise that’s somewhere between shock and pleasure, a sound Sunghoon only wishes he could record and replay over and over.

“Making me do all the work? Come on baby show me how much you want it,” you don’t fight him as you just continue to bounce on his cock working yourself up higher before coming down you can feel yourself starting to sweat, legs wobbly as you continue your movements rising and falling working you both up.

Sunghoon whispers words of approval reveling in the feeling of you and how deep he presses into you tightness engulfing him in pleasure. You’re caught off guard when you feel his lips wrap around one of your buds making you stall your hips stilling momentarily trying to focus on Sunghoon. A sharp sting on your thigh follows making you hiss out at the pain, a part of you loves it though squeezing down on him with the sensation.

He lets out a curse at the feeling head falling back slightly “Keep going,” he soothes over the spot he slapped as lightly as he can frustration building as you start to bounce struggling to build up a rhythm again.

“You can do better than that,” he encourages hands resting on your waist assisting you to ride him, taking him deeper and faster as you shake your head no with a choked-out sound with your hands on his shoulders trying to use him as leverage to bounce.

Hips jumping up to meet yours he impatiently fucks up into you, your legs shaking with every bounce “Going to have to work those legs out more,” he makes note eyes watching the way your bodies connect taking him, getting sloppy with louder whines “Please Hoon, I can’t” you’re begging for mercy head shaking that you can’t keep up.

“You’re not going to like it very much when I’m pinning you down again making sure you can’t touch me,” he grunts out with a particularly rough up movement making you release a choked-out noise legs on the verge of giving up on you hips stalling once again.

Slowing down you shake your head “Sure Sung-“You’re caught off guard when he follows through with the threat hands previously on your waist sliding down looping under your thighs swiftly changing up the position so you’re roughly knocked back onto your back with your legs pressed up against your chest Sunghoon still inside you maybe even deeper with the change-up.

“-Hoon!“ you gasp out a breath, air knocked out from the sudden impact saying he took your breath away, literally, was an understatement. Struggling to catch your breath his hips start to move again not leaving you any time to adjust as he’s almost pulling out completely before plunging back in making you feel the full effect of him gasping out. Catching your breath his pace is faster with one leg over his shoulder you try and find something to grip onto, but nothing is available pushing you deeper into the mat with every stroke.

“Don’t test me, this is what you wanted,” he grits out continuing to fuck you out of breath heavy breathing filling the air your hands finding purchase on his back arching up with a cry “Feel so good, so full, Please Hoon-” your eyes try and focus on his face and the intensity of his eyes drinking you up as he fucks into you eyebrows knit and a vein along his neck protruding.

Sunghoon’s fingers find their way to your clit applying barely any pressure having you react hips jumping forward and clenching around him harder with a loud gasp “fuck just like that, begging for me,” He moans lips attaching to your neck sucking over the skin adding to the sensitivity you’re feeling only adding to the build-up feeling yourself coming closer hands falling down to his arms holding onto him.

“Please, Hoon!” Your nails dig into his bicep surely leaving a mark for him to see later as you’re inching closer to your release applying more pressure every bit more making your mind fuzzy with pleads and begs.

“I-Mmmm,” you feel the words get lost in your throat but he can tell what you want to say with the way you’re squeezing down on him impossibly hard making him work extra to fuck you through it droplets of sweat building across his brow.

“Wait,” he warns voice deep you are practically in tears trying to hold off your release shaking your head no mumbling out incoherent words begging for him to let you cum knowing that the tears would start if you attempt to hold off any longer.

You’re shaking your head with rough breaths “Please please please, it’s too good, can't hold it,” and you can't as you snap before he allows you to letting your release wash over you as Sunghoon is fucking you through your orgasm hips crashing into yours thrusts getting sloppy before he presses fully flush against your hips emptying his balls and cumming with shallow breaths.

Neither of you speaks for a moment too intense, trying to catch your breath and come down from both your highs staying as you both ended the only sounds are from both of you breathing and hearts pumping and pounding in your ear slowly subsiding, “Fuck,” is the first thing you say earning a small laugh from your instructor who pushes his hair out of his face to look at you better before he lightly slaps your thigh making you jump still sensitive, “That’s for cumming before me, loser,” He slowly slides out of you hissing out at the feeling.

Legs still shaky after your previous orgasm Sunghoon watches the way his cum spills out of you down your thigh onto the mat below as he takes a finger pressing some of his releases back into you making you whine out still sensitive. “Couldn’t help it, you’re too good,” You try and sit up groaning at the soreness you can already feel laying back down.

“Fuck Hoon,” You’re able to get out head falling to the side to look at him.

“So you want a round two then?” he cocks his head to the side smiling so you can see both his canines' lines of sweat framing the side of his face

——-

This was my first time kinda publishing smut so go easy on me thx XOXO -SunghoonsSlut

Also have never boxed before in my life 💀 and have had this in the drafts since like September so if it flops pretend you never saw this because I’ve just been up and down with my motivation with writing this one 😬

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #park sunghoon smut #enha hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fic #enhypen ff #enhypen hard hours #enha sunghoon #sunghoonsSlutStories

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mustainegf · 4 months

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Can you do a step dad/current! James Hetfield smut??its fine if you can't I completely understand!!(srry if its so short I was in a rush!!)

this is actually so good and I had so much fun writing!!

❕ FEMALE CHARACTER IS 18+ ❕

WARNINGS: use of “daddy”, use of “princess”, stepdad x daughter, Reader is 18+, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex, creampie

My breaths came out quick and hoarse, my fingers disappearing inside of me over and over.

I was so turned on by my new stepdad, but I couldn't do anything about it since he had just moved in a few months ago.

He was in his fifties or sixties and looked hot as hell with his broad shoulders and muscles. He had this sexy silver-grey hair that made him look more attractive than ever.

He was also very tall, almost towering over me. I kinda avoided him so he wouldn't sense how horny I'd get in his presence.

I continued to work at myself, imagining his cock inside me instead. I whimpered out. "J-James!"

I was home alone so It didn't matter.

I wanted to feel him inside me so bad. I didn't care if he was with mom, I wanted him to hold me down and fuck me as hard as he could.

Being alone, I didn't try to filter my vulgar noises; letting them spill out into the quiet room. "Daddy! Daddy, just like that!" I whined.

I rubbed my clit fiercely, just picturing his face.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" I shook.

But before I could feel that sweet release, the sound of someone clearing their throat echoed from my doorway.

I gasped, and tugged my blanket up to cover me, my eyes darting to the doorway where the tall man stood.

Leaning agaisnt my door frame, a grin plastered over his face, was James, my fucking stepdad.

"Oh my god," I stuttered, my cheeks heating. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." I tried to act cool even though I knew I wasn't.

He took a step forward. "You were really enjoying yourself there." My blush deepened as I stared at the ground.

I didn't respond I was far too mortified. James sat up and stepped into the room.

"Look at me," he said softly. I met his gaze. His eyes glittered with mischief and desire.

"I'm not going to judge you, sweetheart. I see it all the time when I look at you. You are always so hot and bothered around me."

Hidden by the blanket, I couldn't help but apply a small bit of pressure to my clit. "I could hear you saying my name.." James whispered.

"How often to you masturbate to me, honey?" He continued, ghosting his fingers under my chin.

"E-Every single night," I admitted.

“That makes me so happy, sweetheart. Are you gonna quit playing games with me? Tell me what you want." He stated calmly, lifting the corner of the blanket to uncover my wet panties that cling to my body.

"Y-you.. James." I whined as his fingers brushed last the damp fabric.

"Don't call me that honey," he said under his breath, staring me down as his fingers toyed with me.

He shoved the blanket aside, kneeling in bed ahead of me, looking down at me. "Speak up, baby."

"If you don't say what I know you want to, then maybe I should just leave.." he taunted, setting his hands on my knees.

"Daddy, please!" I whined.

He grinned as I gave him what he wanted, his hands spreading my legs apart. I was terrified to do something like this with my stepdad, but It was all I wanted

I needed it. And I trusted him enough to let him have his way with me. A strong hand gripped me by the thigh, bringing me closer to the edge.

"I think about touching this pretty pussy all the time, Princess." He hummed.

The air grew thick between us as he leaned in closer. My chest heaving with rapid breaths, I nodded. "Yes, Daddy. Please!" I moaned. My eyes widened in surprise when he grabbed my ankle and dragged me toward him.

He grabbed my panties tugging them down my legs and illiciting a breathy gasp from me.

"You are so beautiful," he praised. "Thank you, Daddy," I whispered. "I have never seen anyone look as sexy as you do right now."

He said, his voice husky. "Your pussy is glistening. So perfect, just like I thought." He rubbed his thumb against my clit, making me cry out.

"Hmm. Maybe I should start here," he murmured, kissing my inner thigh.

"Is that okay?" He asked. I bit my lip, nodding.

"Whatever you want, Daddy." I breathed. His fingers skimmed over my legs, dipping into the valley of my hips. "Such a good girl for your daddy."

He cooed, kissing my lower stomach before licking his way down until his tongue was lapping up every drop of my juices. "Mmm..." He groaned.

"You taste delicious, little princess. "

He paused. Lifting his head, his Light blue eyes fixed on mine. The look on his face told me he meant every word.

This was one of the hottest things I'd ever witnessed. I loved it.

“Keep going, Angel. Your daddy wants you to cum so hard you can't walk tomorrow." My eyes rolled back as I came undone.

His tongue was ruthless. I felt him swallow every ounce of my orgasm down. I cried out as my body tightened, he licked me clean. I lay there, spent, my heart thumping wildly against my chest.

"Now it's your turn missy.." he leaned upright and towards me. "I want you to suck me off," he growled in my ear.

I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that my stepdad wanted me to suck his dick. I loved it.

James switched places with me, tugging off his shirt.

I admired his stalkish build, and the slightly faded tattoos that lay beneath the thin layer of silver hairs on his chest.

"Don't be shy, honey," he cooed, helping me undo his jeans and tug them down.

He kicked off his jeans, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. I could easily see the huge bulge that strained beneath the fabric. Fuck.

"Take 'em off baby, you're a big girl," he taunted, nudging his hips just slightly.

With a gulp, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

The moment they passed his ankles, I gasped. God, he was massive. He watched me, chuckling under his breath.

"What did I tell you, baby?" he asked with a smirk. I stared at his cock, licking my lips. I had never seen anything quite like it. My stepdad was seriously well endowed.

It looked so smooth and soft, the head swollen.

James eyed me as he gripped the base, waiting for me to put my mouth to use.

"Suck it, babe. Show me you mean it." I moved to straddle him, taking his cock into my hand. It was a bit thicker than I thought it would be, and it was longer too.

I had known he was hung, but seeing it first hand was crazy. There was so much of it to grasp onto. I hesitated before putting it in my mouth. No turning back now.

Gripping it firmly, I slid the length of it into my mouth. Fuck, it tasted so good. I got lost in the flavor. The vein running along the side of it was silky, yet rough. The tip was sensitive and made me salivate.

Leaning forward, I swallowed his length and let my tongue lick over the sensitive tip. "Fuck, princess," he grunted. "You're such a good girl." He murmured, petting my hair. A shiver ran through me at his words. "Such a dirty girl, sucking your stepdads cock."

He moaned. I bobbed up and down, loving how it felt in my mouth. I was able to fit a lot of it in. "So good," he breathed. The feel of him in my mouth caused me to get wetter. My clit throbbed, demanding attention.

If I had been standing, I would have fallen. I sucked harder, moving my head faster. I loved how my stepdad was using his free hand to play with my breasts, tweaking my nipples.

They were so sensitive. "Just like that, babe," he encouraged. I looked up, locking eyes with him.

His eyes were closed as he rocked into my mouth, driving deeper.

Ohhh, my god. I loved everything about it. How he felt in my mouth, the taste of him. James was truly the best. He was good at everything. In my eyes, there was nothing better.

"That's it princess, bouta make me cum..." he groaned.

I bobbed my head faster, letting my saliva drip down his length each time. James gripped the back of my head, shoving me down further as I gagged.

I didn't Protest this though, I wanted to do anything to make him cum.

"Right there, right there, fuck..." James panted, still forcing me down, I could feel him swelling in my mouth.

I moaned around his cock, holding it tightly in my throat. "That's it, baby," he grunted. "Swallow my cum, Princess." I could feel his balls tighten. He was close.

His hands were in my hair again, pulling me up. I kept his cock deep in my throat, milking him. His body shook. "Fuuuuck!" He shouted. He filled my mouth. He came so much. So much I started to gag, choking on his cum.

"Good girl, good girl, you're such a good girl," he babbled, petting my hair, stroking me until I stopped coughing. I milked him until he finished emptying himself down my throat.

"Daddy.." I whispered, my throat finally free as he pulled his dick out.

"I can see that look in your eye, baby. You want me to be inside you, honey?" He cooed, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

"Please, please daddy.." I begged, crawling into his lap.

"So eager, aren't you princess?" He smiled, giving his cock a few pumps.

I grabbed his face, locking my lips with his for the first time. It was an odd concept; kissing my stepdad, but it felt right. And so good.

He kissed me right back, tongue forcing its way into my mouth.

I groaned, opening wider to allow him access. My stepdad was so hot. I couldn't imagine being without him. I just wanted to be with him forever.

James broke the kiss, looking me in the eyes.

"How bad do you want daddy to fuck you?" He hissed soflty, my body suddenly filled with the sensation of him running the tip through my folds.

My breath caught in my throat. "Bad," I moaned.

"Very bad." He chuckled. "You better not scream too loud, princess. I don't want anyone to hear you."

I rocked my hips on the pressure of his cock. I was a little worried that he wouldn't fit inside me, I'd only had sex once or twice. Him on the other hand was extremely experienced, not to mention huge.

I didn't want to embarrass myself by not being able to take him. But I couldn't go any longer without feeling him inside me. I needed him. Desperately.

"Daddy, please.." I whimpered, my neck twitching.

He ran his hand up and down my spine, then trailed it down my ass, pushing my legs farther open. "Hmm, what's that baby?" He purred, sliding the tip inside me.

I squirmed at the sudden penetration, gripping his shoulders as I whined loudly. James' hands gripped my hips gently, holding me in place.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he urged. "I need to hear the words, princess. Don't make me stop." I looked up at him, meeting his stare.

"I want you, Daddy. I need you. Please."

I whimpered, wiggling my hips against his. He chuckled lowly. "Lord knows, I need you too, little one. I've wanted you for so long." He grinned as he slid his cock inside me in one powerful thrust.

The pain was intense, and I clawed at his shoulders. "Shh, baby. Just breathe. Feel your daddy inside you. Relax." He repeated as he held me still.

I was right, it stretched me a lot, but it was also the best feeling in the world.

James bounced me on his cock, thrusting up alongside. "Fuck! Daddy!" I cried out.

"Right there honey….. god, I think you're the tightest I've fucked." he groaned.

"Mmmm, that's right baby, ride that dick, just like that. Fuck, your wetness is driving me wild." He hissed, still pumping into me.

“Ooh, that's right... daddy, harder, fuck me harder, daddy." I bucked my hips.

He squeezed my thighs with large tattooed hands, gripping me tighter, ramming me into the mattress. I could barely keep up with him. I rode him until I couldn't anymore.

"Such a good girl," he growled as I collapsed, hardly having enough energy to keep riding him.

"Just relax while daddy fucks you."

He ordered. Ilaid my head on his chest, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure I could handle more. He held me up, still inside me, cradling me in his arms as he rammed into me.

"Yes, Daddy, yes, that's it..." I whined, my body getting used to him, and I became more flexible.

"Oooh, yes! Yes, yes!" I cried out. James's pace picked up.

I arched my back, causing him to push harder into me. I was soon screaming out his name, throwing my head back. "James!" I cried out, holding on for dear life as I was transported to another plane of existence.

He continued to thrust into me. I was so full, I thought I would burst. "Daddy, daddy, I'm going to cum again." I squealed.

“Cum all over daddy's cock, princess. Let it happen." He encouraged.

I cried out his name as my walls pulsated around him. "Ohhh, daddy!" I gasped. "Ohhh, fuck, I'm cumming too." James slammed into me, jerking his hips as he shot rope after rope of seed into me.

"That's it baby, cum on my cock. That's it." He growled. He continued to hold me, both of us breathing heavily. When he started to soften, we both dropped onto the bed, both of us exhausted.

I couldn't believe my own stepdad had just cum inside me. I loved it.

"You're gonna make me addicted to you, Princess." He murmured, rubbing up my back.

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