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jesuistrestriste · 8 months

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♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm

wc: 6.3 k (whoops)

note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)

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The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.

"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.

It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.

After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.

At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..

You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.

Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.

Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.

Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!

You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.

Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.

He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.

I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.

And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..

After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.

Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.

“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.

you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.

“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”

He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.

“What’d your colleagues do now?”

You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”

“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”

“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven.” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)

“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”

You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.

His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.

“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”

You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.

“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.

He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.

“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.

You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.

“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”

You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.

You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.

His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.

You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.

“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.

He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.

He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.

Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.

“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”

“They look perfect, don’t stress.”

He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.

“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.

“I am.”

“Are you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

You suddenly get a very filthy idea.

“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”

His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.

“What?”

You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.

“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”

He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.

“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”

His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.

You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”

A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”

You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”

He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.

“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.

Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.

“Close?” you whisper.

His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.

“Very,” he groans.

You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.

“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”

You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.

“Now take your sweats off for me.”

He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.

You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.

"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.

You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.

He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.

"Open," you whisper.

He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.

You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.

While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.

"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.

Art knew this command like the back of his hand.

Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.

"Good job.. good boy..."

He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.

"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.

"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.

You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.

"What was that?"

You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.

He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.

Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

"You can rip them."

He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.

In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).

You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.

"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.

He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.

You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..

"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.

"I'm going to cum, Art..!"

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.

"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.

You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.

"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.

His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.

"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."

He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.

You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.

"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"

He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.

"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.

His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.

You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"

He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.

You roll your eyes.

"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."

He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.

"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"

He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.

"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"

You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.

You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.

You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.

Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"

You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?

"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"

He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.

You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.

"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."

He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.

And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.

"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.

"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.

He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.

"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"

He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.

"Remember what we just talked about?"

He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.

He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.

He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.

"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"

He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.

You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.

"Come."

And he does just that.

Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.

"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.

He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.

You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.

"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.

He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.

"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"

You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.

"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"

He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.

"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.

He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.

You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.

"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.

You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."

The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.

He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.

You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.

"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."

He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."

You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.

It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.

"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.

"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.

You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.

He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."

You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..

"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.

"You know what you need to do, darling."

"Please," he moans, "let me come.."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"YES..!"

"How should I make you come?"

"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.

You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.

"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"

"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.

He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.

"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."

"Please, can I come?"

"Again."

He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.

"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"

"Yes, honey, you can come."

You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"

When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.

"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"

It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...

His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.

Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--

"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"

He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.

You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.

Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.

You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.

"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."

He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.

You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.

"I feel weak," he groans softly.

You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."

He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.

"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.

"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3

reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!

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bambiesfics · 7 months

Text

Cock in a Gloryhole - Ellie x reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ public sex, reader deepthroating Ellie’s cock (strap-on), Ellie cums untouched, Ellie yearns for readers lips, very hyper-sexual descriptions. Ellie’s strap is almost exclusively referred to as a cock/dick/etc, pining, missed connection. This is a filthy fic.

Ellie’s a slutty gay and very judgmental.

!!! [please help palestine] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie slid her converse off of the toilet handle. The brazen girl fished for her pants’ zipper. She held her cock in one hand, and fought with the zipper with the other. The cheap metal wasn’t fastening over the straps on her hips, it was catching on her harness. “Jesus fuck. Now? Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes and smoothed her bangs down. After a few beats, the bored brunette circled the stall, then slumping against the chipped navy door. Cock in hand, balls barely zipped up. She chuckled to herself, there was probably some stupid fucking metaphor for that out there somehwere. She wasn’t going to step out like that, with the veins of her dick saying “hi” over her half zipped pants? Fuck. No. It wasn’t in the cards. But the zip wasn’t budging. Ellie felt a scowl forming; The kid was pissed. She didn’t have time for this, not now. Not when there was a gorgeous service teller at the center that she’d been mentally undressing for the better part of her visit. A woman who belonged on her knees, in front of Ellie. A woman with the perfect mouth to suck dick clean. Ellie toe’d her converses on the dirty grout lines hatch marked across the tile floor. The repetition of it lulled her into a meditation as she contemplated how to escape this awkward mess she somehow tripped headfirst into. Getting into awkward shit like this was her forté, but the benefits of packing far outweighed the headaches.

The stall next to her swung open, the clacking heels were rhythmic and sharp. Feminine little steps. A woman sat down, and did her business as she hummed. Ellie scaled her eyes along the bathroom wall that separated her and the lady. The wall was grotty. Old and well worn from years of servicing and decades of business. The maintenance was abysmal on its best day, and it made for a pleasant surprise when Ellie’s eyes zero’d in on the hole carved out haphazardly. There were still pieces of drywall sticking out past the lament of duck tape all around the hole. Ellie chuckled grimily, just high enough that the woman paused her rustling once the realization that she wasn’t alone had settled. The prick-fucking developers who were responsible for this project definitely forgot to remodel this bathrooms stalls’ when they added a new male bathroom to the bottom floor of the building. The little glory hole had a glaring missing chunk of ‘wall’ from its separation of the two stalls, and it’d had that for years from the looks of it. It had a bunch of old thin splinters of amber oak and drywall sticking out. The eyesore pointed to the empty hole like a pair of flashing neon arrows pointing to a seedy Las Vegas strip club.

Ellie doubted it got used much, if at all. If any of the prissy women who sat down to release themselves understood why there was a giant fucking hole the size of a two baseballs stacked vertically in their bathroom stall. Nah, Ellie mused. They definitely just kept their gaze straight ahead if they noticed anything amiss. A prim attempt at respecting the other woman’s privacy. Except, the irony was in the fact that, the point of that hole carved in the wall, the hole yelling “FUCK ME,” was to trample all over another stranger’s privacy. To proclaim yourself a king with a heavy cock and see if they’d submit to it.

Ellie stroked her cock, squeezing the base then working her way to the tip, warming it up in her hands. She unzipped the rest of her pants, and let the balls spring free. The balls dropped a little past the zipper, it took the edge off the pressure in her leather jeans. Mmm, now this felt right.

She took a tentative step forward, debating her next step. But then she rolled her anxiety off her back. Undulating those fast twitch muscles that lined her back to stretch and warm, to relax. It wasn’t that serious. Call it “part of the plot,” call it whatever you want. But what Ellie wanted to do was going to be insanely amusing. She needed the amusement if she was gonna be stuck here until her zipper decided to cooperate. Ellie’s converses padded to the wall, it’s toe box lined up with the bottom of it. Nosing against the edge. She lined up her cock with the glory hole and slowly fed the hole inches of her cock, until she bottomed out and her balls were trapped between her hairy pelvis and the wall. She held her breath. Her palms scaled the wall. The woman on the other side gasped, Ellie could only imagine how she clutched her hand to her chest and scrambled to pull her bag up over her shoulder. Ready to run to building security and report the “creep” in the ladies bathroom stall. The creep was Elizabeth “I <3 pussy” Williams with her cock fucking a glory hole. This would make for a hilarious prank to joke about with Jessie later. Jesse would think Ellie was bustin’ his balls, making up some new lie to fuck with his head. And she’d revel in the way his face would drain of colour once he realized she wasn’t.

Ellie grasped the base of her cock and lifted it up a little bit, practically taunting “yoohoo!” With the motion. Letting her heavy shaft say “hi” to the poor woman who was facing it head-on. She grinned again, and prepared herself to tuck her dick back in her pants like a good boy and behave.

But then she heard clothes rustling, and the tug she felt on her harness made her eyes fly open. Her heart rate picked up. Blood was rushing in Ellie’s head. She didn’t actually expect a sweet lady to open up her lips and suck her off. But the eager lips on the other side, started sucking her cockhead before she could process it. The woman bubbled saliva onto Ellie’s tip to aid in the lubrication. Then the lady sucked Ellie’s fat cock in all the way to the hilt, until her nose bumped the soft skin shove Ellie’s groin. All that could be seen were puffy red lips and the tip of the girl's nose. But it made Ellie fucking sprung. Her mind was clouded with raging lust as the moans of “…fuck baby..” whimpered from Ellie’s lips. The rest of the sentence would’ve concluded with “…I didn’t expect you to actually blow me.” If Ellie could think straight.

The girl on the other side of the stall was enthusiastic to have cock in her mouth. She was sucking up and down Ellie’s full length. Using her sloppy saliva to help her lips slide up and down the length. Ellie shoved her pelvis into the wall until both of her hip bones were bruised and beat grinding against the wall. She was greedy to feel more suction. Ellie’s chubby cock had a puffy head, and a fat veiny shaft. Her cock was the color of obsidian, just like Ellie’s harness. And her wrinkly fat balls held her squishy testes. The ones she forced all girls to palm for reality’s sake. For all intents and purposes; this was Ellie’s fucking cock. And so she could feel it when the woman on the other side gagged on her dick so eagerly, it was as if she was desperate for Ellie to paint her throat in warm cum.

Ellie started moaning the more she heard the woman on the other side gag on her. She could just imagine the way her dick was creating an imprint in her throat, sliding down and bulging. Ellie was large, she’d seen her do that to a girl before. She couldn’t help but whimper at the image of a sweet girl impaling her dainty throat around Ellie’s thick piece, in a seedy business bathroom. God what a beautiful fucking piece of ass must on the other side of the stall. A girl with the lips of a killer, sloppy and greedy. Hungry to suck off a creep. Probably with a perfect vagina to match; a hole just as sloppy, just as greedy. A hole only fit for a King to thrust into. Good thing Ellie thought of herself as a King too. Ellie decided, as she watched your red lips deepthroat her length, that the very moment the girl on her knees was done digging her tongue into Ellie’s cock slit, she’d knock down the door of the stall you were in, and ram into your glossy pussy over the toilet. You would coat Ellie’s cock in the sticky saliva held inside your puffy little hole too. Two sets of lips for Ellie to abuse.

Ellie bit her fist to prevent herself from choking out a moan. God. You popped your lips off, and stroked up Ellie’s dick with your little fist. Up and down and up and down, before you put it back in your mouth to deepthroat one more time. You wanted to nose against the pale girl's skin again, feel her bush tickle the tip of your nose. Smell the soft patch of hair, the salt of her skin. The sexy art of her bush and happy trail. Ellie yelled out a hoarse “Fuck-k!” And you could tell she came. She soaked her black Klein boxers. Maybe she came from those eager motions grinding her harness against her swollen pink clit. Or maybe she came untouched, hole spasming scarily just because of how aroused Ellie was by you. You placed a gentle kiss on her cockhead with your red lips. Ellie bit down her fist, hard. She broke skin, and drew blood.

If you could’ve, you would’ve loved to have Ellie’s real cum dribbling down your tongue instead. You stood up to pull your panties flush against your plump cunt. Finished with your prior business. There was slick dripping in between all of your puffy folds, and you knew your panties would stay wet the entire rest of the day from just the way they were suctioned to your cunt alone.

You stepped out to wash your hands, heels clacking with an air of comportment. You waited for the girl whose cock you inhaled, to come out of the stall and address you. But she never came. Her back was pressed against the wall. Instead she slid down to collect herself. So you fixed your blouse, hid your cleavage, touched up your smeared lipstick after rubbing it all off on Ellie, and massaged your nipples so they wouldn’t poke so prominently through your blouse. You shimmied in your tight skirt and clacked out of the bathroom. Leaving the girl hiding in the stall, to catch her breath and will the staccato of her heartbeat away. Ellie wasn’t new to coming untouched, but coming from the visuals and motion of a stranger sucking her cock clean? That — that was a new one. She gulped and adjusted her boxers, because fucking Christ, they were heavily soaked from her own slick. With shaky hands the pale girl fished for her leather pants zipper. Pleading with the bitchy, cheap, metallic hardware over and over, until it finally pulled all the way up.

A rapid river of relief washed over Ellie, she couldn’t afford to be stuck in there anymore. Ellie stumbled out of the washroom, hoping to find you. She snapped her head back and forth, then stumbled around in circles trying to catch a flash of sloppy red lips. She thought of going to people and asking if they’d seen a lady with puffy red lips strut by. But then thought better of it. The idea sounded dumb as rocks, even to her own horned-out brain. Ellie rubbed her cock through her pants, feeling phantom sucks from memory. You were burned in her brain, forget the cute teller from earlier. You were her new Madonna, her new whore.

In your honour, she’d stroke her g-spot to a hot strap blowjob video tonight, to keep the memory of your filthy cocksucking mouth fresh.

Ellie hoped if there ever was a next time in that glory hole for her, that you’d line your little greedy hole right up in front of the glory hole in the stall, so Ellie could make you drip your cream down her cock. She’d love to pull her dick out of you, just to marvel at the beautiful rings of milk wrapped around her veiny shaft from your own sopping cunt. Ellie savored the idea of the screams she’d rip out of you, the cries and pleads you’d wail for her ears only. She’d rip you apart, and that would be the fucking cherry on top of her fucking birthday cake.

If she got the cake, she’d love to write “Ellie ‘Hung’ Williams” on the face of it just for shits.

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy

He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation

He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him

Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week

Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone

He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little

Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens

And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning

Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him

And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll

But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side

“What’s that?”

“Your walker.”

“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”

“You are today.”

And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy

But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself

“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”

“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”

“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”

“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”

It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him

But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker

He pulled himself up

His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear

Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two

Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving

He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve

“Happy?”

“Are you?”

And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks

Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away

“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so

It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once

Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days

Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday

When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed

And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date

“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.

Steve should say no, but he doesn’t

Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #physical therapist Steve #idk going through my notes on things I’ll never have time to actually write #but maybe someone else does #I’m literally ignoring work so hard right now #I’m just tired!!!!#im just a girl who doesn’t wanna work anymore!!!!#cw: injury #cw: mention of accident

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violetflowerswrites · 2 months

Text

Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

686 notes · View notes

alexiroflife · 3 months

Text

when a religious group member crosses the line…

fluff, violence

🌙🌙🌙

it’s no unknown secret that geto suguru can not stand the non-sorcerer members of his cult. the moment they step out of his vicinity after having made incredibly generous donations toward his services, his feigned polite smile is falling and his nose is curling in disgust. he can’t stand how they grovel, how they beg, how they cling to him because they’re weak. they’re so greedy, so pathetic, so disgusting

when new members of his group enter the picture, suguru has to proceed to muster up the strength to pretend to enjoy helping them, which he is incredibly skilled at doing. in the midst of his theatrics, however, there tends to be crucial information that slips through the cracks of what all members should be, and normally are, aware of

you are suguru’s everything, and everyone within his cult who has a damn brain knows it. he showcases you like a trophy, letting you cling to his arm or sit on his lap when he is lecturing his members, ensuring that every one of them can see the way his fingers curl over your waist, the way your lips come to meet his cheek, the way you are unmistakably his and his alone

unfortunately, however, newer members of the cult may not always be aware of your relationship, and their innate greed for more than what suguru’s generous services already offer rouses… issues

suguru is holding a formal fundraising event for his cult one evening and he’s a bit agitated. you’re on suguru’s arm wearing a dark purple gown as he greets people, welcoming them and buttering up the wealthy classes. his hand is snug around you, keeping you close as if to protect you from the pigs swarming the center. he doesn’t like that they’re so close to you, but he feels you’re safer when you’re by his side at all times

the moment he is left alone, his facade vanishes as he turns to you, looking over you with apologetic lustful eyes.

“i’m sorry, sweetness. it won’t be much longer i promise,” he kisses your temple, smoothing his fingers over your back.

you smile. “it’s okay, sugu. i don’t mind waiting. i know tonight is important.”

“not as important as taking you home and away from all these damn people,” he presses his lips to your ear, holding you close. “you look so beautiful tonight. i can’t handle much more of this.”

suguru is already on edge because he is so hyper aware of everyone sneaking glances at you, whether they are trying to be discreet or not. he knows you are gorgeous, sickeningly so, but he also knows that his cult members have a tendency to demand, to overstep. he knows that none of them are dumb enough to look at you for longer than half a second, but he’s close to imploding if he doesn’t get you out of here soon

manami approaches your boyfriend momentarily to inform him that an important client desires to speak with him on their way out of the door. with a sigh, suguru reluctantly pulls away from you and tells you he will be right back. his eyes are everywhere when he parts from you with manami, curses lurking behind curtains to keep a sharp gaze on you in case something happens

you head over to the buffet bar while you wait. your boyfriend has been away for no longer than five minutes and you’re looking over the selection to keep to yourself when you feel someone’s presence behind you.

“can i get you something to drink, darling?”

you turn around with furrowed brows, curious as to who within this event would dare to speak to you in such a way, to find an older suited man with a heavy beard and a golden-plated smile. you recognize him as the new member that suguru was ranting to you about just last week, when he first joined

“excuse me?” you ask bitterly, slimming your eyes. you look down and see one of suguru’s curses creeping under the table, slinking an arm around your ankle protectively. the man does not notice of course, and apparently, neither did he notice you gluing yourself to suguru the entire night. he’s as clueless as he is inebriated, and he hasn’t been around long enough to have seen the two of you together in any other setting

“i hate to see a precious little thing like you here alone. how about i keep you some company?”

you’re tempted to tell him who you are right then and there, but why make things easy for him? he was dead the second he approached you, and new members like him should be more mindful of the things around them after promising to devote their loyalties to master geto

“i’m not interested,” you tell him coldly, and when you turn to walk away, his hand reaches for your wrist. the curse around your ankle tightens and your eyes widen.

“come on, honey, don’t be like that”

the room stiffens as eyes stare in awe, the lively chatter dwindling down when the scene before them registers. frightened whispers rouse, the hiss of hidden curses lift, heads turn over to locate the cult leader, and you watch with a knowing smile creep to your lips

suddenly, it’s silent. slow, isolated footsteps echo and tap against the floor as they approach. within seconds, suguru’s figure is towering behind the man before you with a red glint in his eye and half of his face shadowed in murderous darkness. the man takes a second too long to register his presence, his hand still on your wrist. when he finally turns, he jumps, and suguru’s generous mask is nowhere to be found. instead, a cool rage takes his expression

“geto! it’s nice to see you, i haven’t gotten the chance to speak with you yet tonight”

oh, the nerve this imbecile has. suguru is blind with simmering fury as his eyes dart to your wrist. he inhales slowly, chest rising beneath his dark blazer. the man grows increasingly nervous under suguru’s gaze, confused, wondering what is happening

“(y/n),” suguru calls you. “come here”

you feel the curse around you slip away and the man before you loosen his grip in slow realization. you yank your hand away with a sweet smile, pushing past the man to sink into suguru’s open arm for you.

“did he hurt you, pretty girl?” he turns to question you softly

“no, suguru, just grabbed me pretty tight”

his eyes flicker with something dangerous. “i see. i’ll take care of it, okay? then we’re going home so i can take care of you. i'm sick of this night already, aren't you?" you nod, leaning into him when he ducks to press a kiss to your cheek

the man before you visibly reels. “o-oh! shit, geto, is she...? i had no idea-“

“everyone!” suguru is quick to snatch up the man by the back of his neck, cutting him off and pushing him forward harshly, tightening his deadly grip. the man chokes, pupils shrunken with shock and terror. suguru pushes you back slightly to keep you safe behind him. the remaining members watch, horrified, far more familiar with geto’s behaviors than this idiot seemingly is

to mess with his money is to be punished, perhaps even killed, but to dare to mess with you is to be slaughtered

“let this be a lesson to you all. no, a reminder, if you will, because it seems some of you must have forgotten,” suguru smiles. curses leap from their hiding and scatter before the bearded man’s feet, tugging and grabbing at his now dangling legs as suguru holds him into the arm. he thrashes, snot bubbling from his nose in fear

“do not ever lay a filthy hand on my girl. if i catch any one of you staring, speaking, or even thinking about touching her ever again-“

a vile crack resounds within the space as suguru crushes his hand into the man’s throat. he strangles and chokes, writhing about as the curses below jump to devour him. his screams of agony burst out as they tear him limb from limb, ripping apart his flesh and splattering blood over the floor. the members watch in a nauseating sweat, gasping, attempting to conceal their shock of watching a man get seemingly torn apart by the air

suguru drops the twitching corpse to the ground with a resounding splatter once he is dead, his curses rushing to gobble the remains. the dark-haired cult leader smiles kindly and closes his eyes

“-this will be you. do i make myself clear?” he is greeted with silence. “i said do I make myself clear?”

“yes, master geto,” the crowd erupts in eerie unison.

he nods, satisfied. “good. now, you may all take your leave. the evening has come to an end”

the room clears impressively fast, and suguru exhales loudly before turning to you. you’re quick to move into him, pressing your chest to his to thumb away the blood on his chin. you both ignore the mess behind you as manami finds arrangements in the background to clean it up

“i hate these fucking things. i hate these fucking people,” suguru curses, melting his arms around you and holding you close. “i can’t believe some filthy non-sorcerer actually fucking touched you. shit, (y/n), i’m sorry i stepped away. i should’ve just taken you with me. one of my curses came to me as soon as it happened”

“calm down, it’s never been your fault these members are so dumb,” you tell him, holding his face as he looks at you lovingly. “you work so hard for them, baby, and they don’t give you the respect you deserve”

“no, the respect you deserve,” he corrects. “i’m never bringing you to these things ever again. i’m keeping you all to myself from now on. I shouldn’t have even let any of them see you in the first place”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way, sugu. i’ve always been all yours and always will be. y’always keep me safe”

he smiles warmly down at you and leans in to press soft kisses over your face. “fuck, i love you. let’s go. need to take some time loving on you”

yes, suguru’s cult members are greedy. the more he gives to them, the more they try to take from him. they’re obnoxious, vile, arrogant bastards with no sense to guide them aside from geto’s leadership

to be greedy for you, however- his rock, his flame, his life, is to drop to his knees and practically beg for a gruesome death

758 notes · View notes

hyunniesgirl · 7 months

Text

Bad intentions | Part 2

Pairing: Han Jisung x afab!reader

Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.

Words count: 13,668(Idk don't look at me)

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

It's advised to read part 1 before this one for context and better understanding of the plot.

Part 1 | Love is a mess: series masterlist

Warnings: dry humping, handjob, fingering, cursing, pet names(baby, pretty), oral(f, m receiving), unprotected piv(for the love of god don't do this irl), jealousy, angst, fluff

A/N: here I am again, procrastinating what I should be doing just so I can take this fic out of my head. Hope you guys like it ❣️

Seunghoon was never one to do acts of service, he would tell you he loved you and even though you didn't always believe that, that's what he offered and you just took it. You always thought that that was everything you deserved, better a bit of affection than no affection at all.

So you didn't expect to find Jisung waiting for you the next morning. He's outside of his car, scrolling on his phone, leaning against the vehicle.

You close your front door slowly, like he can just disappear if you make any hasty movements. As if Jisung can feel your presence, he lifts his eyes looking in your direction, smiling and waving to you.

“Fancy seeing you here”, he jokes, tilting his head when you come closer.

“In front of my… house?” You ask, smiling and he shrugs, embarrassed. He didn't really think it through, he just got into his car and when he realized, he was in front of your house.

“I just thought we could go to school together”, he kicks a rock on the ground, losing confidence, “but it's okay if you don't want to”

You step closer to him, taking his hand into yours and interlacing your fingers. That sudden electricity from before running through all your body the moment you touch him.

“Maybe you can convince me”, you tilt your head, biting on your lower lip while looking at his lips, looking extremely kissable.

“How?” His head snaps to look at you, following your gaze and understanding what you're suggesting. He feels his ears warm, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.

Jisung kisses you, the warmth of his touch spreading all over your body. His tongue brushes against your lips and one of his hands slides through your hair, pulling it lightly.

You open your mouth slowly, too intoxicated by his scent to think clearly, putting your hands on his hips, sliding up just to find his deliciously small waist that you could never notice with the baggy clothes he wears.

“Well, you're full of surprises, aren't you?” You say when you two finally part the kiss.

He frowns, looking at you breathless.

“Shall we?” You ask, pointing at the car and he nods, turning around and opening the door for you. Before going in, you look at him, a playful smile on your lips. “You'll get me to do a lot of things if you keep using these means of persuasion”

For the first time in your life you don't want the spotlight to be on you, you feel uncomfortable being the center of attention. You know exactly why people are staring when you arrive at school with Jisung.

You wish you were being judged by showing up with a new guy barely a month after breaking up with Seunghoon, but that's not it.

People are looking at Jisung, you know they are. You don't mind the snickering comments or the idiotic jokes directed at you, but you don't want him to go through that.

“Should we have lunch together?” He asks you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Actually, I don't know if I'll have lunch today”, you lie. If you think logically, you should try to stay away from him at school. Maybe people won't target him if you do that.

“Do you want me to take you home after school, then?” He asks, frowning, finding your sudden change of attitude strange.

“There's no need, I have practice”, you avoid his eyes, ashamed of yourself.

You're an idiot, you shouldn't have made such hasty decisions. You should have thought about how mean people would be to him if you brought him into the spotlight with you.

Jisung feels his stomach sinking in and he can't help but take a look at himself, he never really cared about the way he dressed. He wears anything that he finds that's clean, not worried about looking good or fashionable.

He has always been the smart guy, the one who has no care in the world other than the things he has his eyes set on and that has always been his studies and music.

His family was shocked when he chose a career in music since he could do anything else. He has the brains to choose any path that had success guaranteed but he chose something as uncertain as a career in the music industry.

He did end up being successful anyway, after meeting his friends and forming 3racha, it didn't take long for them to land a contract with a big label. The three of them stayed in college though, each for a different reason.

Looking at you though, you're very different from him. You worry about your image and what people think about you. If he looks at you, from your hair to your shoes everything is matched to perfection. You're always nice with everyone, even with the people you know talk shit about you and you still keep your grades up.

So why, someone who worries so much about her image would want to be seen with someone like him?

He never worried about his clothes or being popular, but now? He's very worried about those exact things. If you end up dating him, how will people perceive you? You're the center of attention so the person who's dating you, automatically will be in that same center.

Jisung decides to wait for you after practice, he knows you told him not to, but he knows that if he stays in his head, he'll go crazy – thinking about all the worst case scenarios where you're going to dump his ass anytime now just because he's not popular enough.

You smile when you see him but it dies down a few seconds later, when a group of girls from your cheer squad walks past you, laughing about something.

“Hey”, he says when you get closer.

“You didn't have to pick me up”, you say awkwardly, hoping he didn't hear what those girls said.

“Yeah, but I thought you would be too tired to walk back home-”

“It's just a short walk”, you tell him, pressing your lips in a thin line. He stares at you for a moment, frowning, debating in his mind if he should say something about your strange behavior and knowing that if he doesn't, it will eat him alive.

“Y/N?” He starts, voice too serious, “are you embarrassed because of me?”

Jisung really doesn't want to hear your answer, it would crush him if you said yes but he has the slight hope that you will deny it.

“No! No, absolutely not”, you shake your head frantically. He feels a huge weight being lifted off his back but at the same time, he still doesn't understand why you were acting like that.

“But then why-” you cut him mid sentence, taking a deep breath. Bold of you to assume that a person as smart as him wouldn't notice how you were acting.

“People can be really mean”, you tell him, “I'm afraid you're going to go through a hard time because of me”, you pout, feeling like crying. What if he agrees with you? What if he doesn't think you're worth the trouble?

“Why would you think that?” He searches for your hands, holding them and pulling you closer.

“If you date me, people are going to talk about you and I don't want you to hear the same things I have to”, you tell him, honestly.

Popularity is great, you love the attention but it has its downsides. The amount of times you had to listen to people talking shit about you in the restroom, when they didn't know you were there, is wild. You lost count of how many times you walked in on a conversation of someone talking something bad about you and you had to pretend like you didn't know.

You don't want Jisung to experience that, he's invisible now and he enjoys that, it's not fair that you would take him out of his comfort zone just to date you.

“What about you?” He asks, making you look at him with a frown. “You don't care that I don't know how to dress and that I’m basically invisible?”

You smile. Against your better judgment you don't, you really don't.

“I mean, if you could just let me take you to a hairstylist”, you say, lifting your hand to his face and brushing his hair to the side. “I really want to be able to look at your eyes while talking to you”, you joke.

“Ouch”, he puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt. “I don't care what people say about me, okay? I only care about what you think”, he informs you, as if he didn't make that clear already.

“Are you sure?” You ask once more, giving him a chance to escape, even though you don't want him to.

“I am”, he nods, pulling you even closer and wrapping his arm around your waist. “So, can I have lunch with you from now on? And take you to and back from school? Hm?”

You nod, smiling happily.

“I'd love that”

You decide to let people talk, if Jisung doesn't care about it then neither will you, and let's say that after that conversation things just got hotter between you two.

Classrooms, cars, under the bleachers, the locker rooms, there's no place where your makeout sessions didn't reach. You just can't really behave yourself in his presence, when you two are alone you just have to touch each other and after that you just can't help what comes next.

Everyday. Before, between and after classes you're all over each other. You're covered in hickeys, your hair is always a mess and lipstick just won't last on your lips for long. Jisung is no better than you, the only difference is that he can hide the love bites more easily and his flustered face is less noticeable than yours.

You are both in his car trying to get to the restaurant before one of you yields and try to touch the other, when his phone rings.

“Hey”, he says, putting on speaker while he keeps driving.

“I’m sorry to call, I know you're on a date”, you hear Chan's tired voice on the other side of the line, “but my laptop died for whatever reason and the song we prepared to send tomorrow morning was there, I didn't have time to make a backup”, he sighs.

“We lost everything?” Han asks, panic in his voice.

“No, we have the unfinished version on Changbin's laptop but we lost what we worked on yesterday”, Chan explains and Han nods, even though his friend can't see him.

“Okay, yeah, I can go there and-”, he stops mid sentence, looking at you puzzled. “You are out of the city, right?” He asks Chan.

“Yes and Changbin has a test tomorrow, he won't be able to do it”

“Can I go to the studio with you?” You ask and Han nods, confused. “Then we are going to be there soon, Chan, don't worry”, you tell.

“Thank you”, Chan sighs, giving his goodbye and hanging up.

“Are you sure?” Jisung asks, watching you pick up your phone in your purse.

“Yeah”, you shrug, “we can have dinner in a fancy restaurant another time”, you say, calling the said restaurant so you can cancel your reservation.

Jisung watches you talking calmly with the restaurant, feeling grateful, you didn't have to be so understanding.

“Should we order some fried chicken?” You ask, after hanging up, “unfortunately they won't give us a refund”

“It's okay”, Jisung chuckles, “and I'd love fried chicken”

“To tell you the truth, fancy stuff is not my cup of tea”, you tell him, “I much rather have some chicken and beer”

“Well, my lady”, he smiles at you, “luckily for you I know a great place that sell exactly those things”

You watch Jisung work, he looks so professional while doing whatever he's doing. He's focused, a few strands of hair falling slightly over his eyes. His hands work fast, mixing, going back and forth and fixing different parts.

You sit there on the couch, waiting for him to finish. One, two, three hours go by. It's one in the morning when he sighs, closing the laptop and turning his chair towards you.

“Are you done?” You ask, hopeful and Jisung nods, standing up and walking to the couch, sitting comfortably on your side, resting his head on the back of the couch. Eyes closed trying to rest his eyes. “Did you make a backup?” You tease, watching him open his eyes slowly, turning his head to look at you.

“I did”, he chuckles, “and sent the backup to Changbin and Chan too”

“That's good”, you tell him, snuggling closer.

“Sorry that we didn't have a proper date”, he says.

“Don't be sorry. I think this is great”, you shrug, “I had good food and got to see you looking hot while working, that sounds like a win win for me”

Jisung laughs, shaking his head to your antics.

“Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know”, he tells you.

That's when you realize Han Jisung doesn't know you at all, this man shouldn't give someone like you an opening like that.

“Oh, in that case”, you bite your bottom lip. “I have some ideas of how you can make it up to me”

You lean closer to him, face centimeters away from his.

“You could start with this”, you give him a peck on the lips, “and then you can go down here”, you kiss his jaw, going down to his neck, “then you can use your imagination here”, you suck on the skin that already has purple ish marks fading away.

“Is that right?” Eyes darkening, his hands land on your hips, pulling you closer.

“Mmn”, you agree with a shit eating grin on your face.

“And what about this?” He grabs your hips, bringing you to his lap. Your cheeks grow hotter, he's so much more bold than when you started seeing each other. “Do you like it?” He tilts his head, brows arched and a smirk on his lips.

“Where did the guy that freaked out about the thought of receiving nudes go?” You pout, you hate that he can so easily get you flustered.

Jisung throws his head back, chuckling while looking down on you. He tightens the grip on your hips, pressing your body closer to him. You can feel something hard beneath you and that doesn't help you at all, your face growing even more red.

“I had to change my approach when I realized you like to tease”, he brings his face closer to yours, “but you have no experience with being teased”, he smiles, seeing your breathing halt. You're cute.

He kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, rubbing your aching core on his hard on. You gasp, feeling the sudden stimulation but he keeps his lips on you, tongue brushing on yours slowly making you dizzy.

Jisung slides his hands to your thighs, pulling your skirt up so he can grab the flesh of your ass and squeeze it.

“Hannie”, you whisper, feeling his cock pressing against your clothed clit, making the knot in your lower stomach grow.

“Hm?” He asks, Jisung just loves when you use that nickname to call him. “Are you enjoying yourself, pretty?” He teases and you nod, moving your hips on your own, chasing your high.

You look at Jisung, brushing the strands of hair out of his eyes, biting on your lower lip before kissing him. You look so majestic riding him, he has no words so he tries to show you how turned on he is by kissing you with all the lust he has in himself. Hands on your hips forcing you closer to him, stimulating you more.

“I-I'm c-close”, you struggle to say, feeling all the heat spreading all over your body as you bend down and bite his shoulder to contain the loud moan you let out.

Jisung wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling his face into your neck and leaving kisses on your sweaty skin. You're kind of embarrassed, you didn't think you would be doing something like that in a place like here.

“Next time let me hear you, yeah?” He teases and you groan, slapping his arm.

“No, what if someone heard me?” You protest and he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“There's no one here at this hour”, he reassures you, “but anyone that ever heard you moaning should thank you, baby”, he gives a peck on your lips, biting your bottom lip.

“You didn't finish, right?” You sigh, closing your eyes to the feeling of his cock still hard as a rock beneath you.

“Don't worry about it”, he shrugs, “I got to make you cum, that's enough for me”, he smirks, too proud of himself but you have your own pride, no way you're going to let him see you like this and not do the same.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, getting out of his lap and comfortable by his side on the couch, waiting for his answer so you can unzip his pants.

“You don't need to feel obligated”, he says but clears his throat when you glare at him, “yeah, you can”

You waste no time, working on opening his pants and pulling his underwear down to see his painfully hard cock, he's bigger than you thought he would be. You feel your core throbbing once more, just thinking about how you're going to make him fit inside you, that won't be easy but you're sure you can manage.

You grab his length with your hand, making him jump and whine. ‘What a beautiful sound’, you think.

Your hand starts moving up and down and you watch as Jisung throws his head back, mouth open, low moans coming out and eyes closed as he approaches his orgasm. He looks so pretty like that, so you get closer, leaning over and kissing him. Jisung groans, thrusting his hips against your fist, making even more lewd noises while you just watch him, face so close you can feel his breath hitting on your skin.

When his movements start faltering, he can feel his release and in a moment later his hot cum is spreading all over your hand.

“Fuck”, he says, ears turning red instantly when he comes down of his high. “I usually take longer”, he explains nervously, making you chuckle.

“I didn't say anything”, you shrug, finding his anxious eyes too cute.

“I'm serious”, he pouts, zipping his pants back on.

“Me too”, you chuckle, “you took way longer than most guys do, there was a hot girl humping on you and you didn't cum, that's a feat in itself”, you tell him and he bites back a smile, you're such an idiot. But cute, definitely cute.

Jisung watches as you get up, looking for the bathroom so you can clean yourself and he finds himself smiling alone, thinking of you. What are you doing to him? And why does he not mind it at all?

It doesn't take long for Seunghoon to find out who's the guy you're going out with and he doesn't waste any time to come and find you, being the asshole he is.

You're having lunch with Mina and Miyeon when you feel that familiar arm on top of your shoulders, his scent is the same, so there's no mistaking it.

“You didn't tell me the guy you're seeing is Han Jisung”, Seunghoon’s snarky voice feels like a knife being thrown at you. You grab his arm, tossing away from you, his touch makes you sick.

“Didn't think I owed you a full report of who I'm dating now”, you say back, rolling your eyes.

“Well, I mean”, he sneers, “I thought your standards were higher”

You feel your face turning red, not from embarrassment, no, it's anger, the only reaction this man can get out of you now.

“Of course my standards are higher”, you take a deep breath, knowing very well that if you punch him in the face right now, he's going to win. “That's why I went for someone much better than you”, you roll your eyes.

“Please, in what world that guy is better than me?” He laughs and you can't help but chuckle.

“I sure could tell you all the things he's better than you, but I don't think people really need to know about how disappointing you are in bed and outside of it too”, you finish, standing up. “Ah”, you turn to him before you can walk away, “don't come looking for me again, Jisung can get very jealous”

Walking home you're foaming at the mouth, who does he think he is to talk about Jisung in that way? Oh, you really wish you could have beat the hell out of him, fucking bastard. Well, fuck him, you're better off without that prick and you hope you don't have to think about him ever again.

As soon as you get home, you hear voices inside your house coming to the conclusion that your parents are home, as if things couldn't get worse.

You take a deep breath before turning the knob to open the door, meeting uninterested looks when you walk by the kitchen.

“Why did you arrive so late?” Your mom asks, not really looking at you now, much more interested in her phone.

“I had practice”, you say, opening the fridge to grab an apple. You're hungry but if you have to eat with them you're sure you're gonna have indigestion.

“Shouldn't you be studying?” Your father accuses you. “Your brother is the best student in every one of his classes”

“Well if I had that many expensive tutors I would be the best too”, you mumble, receiving a raised brow from the older man. “I don't have any exams for the time being”, you sigh, excusing yourself but before you can cross the door out of the kitchen you hear your mom's voice.

“We are going to travel again tomorrow, we just came home to get some things”, you nod, that's nothing new.

Jisung is walking back and forth in the living room of his apartment, waiting anxiously for Chan and Changbin to be back from their morning workout session.

You didn't see it, but Jisung was there at the dining hall. He froze dead in his tracks the moment he saw Seunghoon sitting with you, all the worst case scenarios coming to his mind. Did you go back to him? You wouldn't, right?

It's true that you and Jisung don't have anything official yet, but it looked like you liked him, so even though his brain was having a field day telling him you never once enjoyed being with him, it's hard for him to actually believe you would put him aside just like that.

He can hear everything, Seunghoon isn't trying to be quiet and he's saying the exact things you were afraid Jisung would hear. He doesn't care about people talking shit about him, the only thing he cares about is what you think about him and the way you just straight away told off your ex’s makes Jisung proud of you, proud of being with you.

However, even though you don't mind all the talks and mean comments, he does. He doesn't want to harm your reputation or more importantly he doesn't want to hurt you. So Jisung made the decision to become someone better, he wants to be better for you. So when his friends open the front door, carrying their gym bags, they bump into a restless Jisung.

“Can you help me?” He asks, making Changbin and Chan look at each other and nod, sitting down with their youngest to talk.

It's been years since the three met each other and every once in a while they tried to convince Jisung to accept their advice so he could be more popular.

It was exhausting, really, Jisung only cared about music and finishing college. His routine was basically going from the studio to university to home. Work, study and sleep, those are the things he usually cares about. So it was nice seeing him going out, meeting you. He's been happier recently and it's nice for them to see him trying to improve himself for you even though they both doubted your intentions at first.

“What do you have in mind?” Chan asks.

“She- hm… she said my hair is too long?” He says, a bit embarrassed.

“We've been telling you this for months”, Changbin whines.

“Well, I think I should get a haircut and buy some new clothes”, Jisung huffs.

“Shouldn't you ask y/n to help you out with that? I'm sure she would love that”, Chan grins.

“I want to surprise her”, the younger one smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, then”, Chan nods, “give us time to take a shower-”

“And eat”, Changbin adds.

“And eat, then we can go”, Chan laughs, standing up and walking to his room.

Jisung didn't talk much with you for two straight days, he only answered the texts you sent him and every time you asked if he wanted to meet, he said he had other plans. You started to worry that maybe word got out about your little scene with Seunghoon that day, maybe Jisung got the wrong idea about you socializing with your ex.

You didn't think you would miss him so much, but you kept checking your phone to see if he had texted you and waited until late at night for a call but it never came.

Maybe Jisung could see right through you, under this facade you put on. Maybe he doesn't want someone as lonely as you, someone who needs his warmth to keep going.

You try distracting yourself with anything, staying after practice to train a new routine. After killing some time, you store the things you used for practice and go out.

When you're closing the gymnasium, you feel a familiar presence close to you, making you turn around with a businesslike smile on your face.

“How can I help… you?” You choke on the air you just breathe. “Jisung?” You ask, speechless.

“The one and only”, he chuckles seeing your shocked face.

“What happened?” You even struggle to speak.

He's the same, but different? His hair is shorter, fixed in a nice hairstyle and his clothes are fitting him perfectly, like they were custom made.

“Do you not like it?” He asks, worried, hands patting his body trying to understand where it went wrong.

“No, no!” You blurt out, fast. “I like it, you look really good”, you don't actually have words to describe how delicious he looks, he already had you hot and bothered before, what are you going to do now? It's impossible to not want to jump his bones right this instant.

“Then?” He waits for you to continue, taking a step towards you, making you instantly take a step back. You're not sure if you'll be able to hold yourself back if he gets too close and you don't want the first time you fuck to be in the school's locker room.

“Why did you change?” You ask, trying to think more clearly.

“I'm trying to become boyfriend material for you”, he grabs your hand, holding it with his. “I even made social media accounts”, he smiles.

“But you were already perfect”, you whisper it slowly, brows knit together. Did you make him feel like he wasn't?

He sighs.

“I heard what your ex said that day”, he says, biting his bottom lip. “I don't want you going out of your way to shield me from mean comments, I want people to envy you for dating me, the same as there are dozens of guys that hate me because I got you”, he tilts his head, waiting for you to process what he just said.

“As long as you're not uncomfortable”, you say, trying to find any sign of hesitancy on his face.

“Not at all”, he tells you, “Chan and Binnie helped me buy nice clothes that are comfortable. Also, if I become more popular, It'll help 3racha”, he shrugs.

“Okay”, you nod nervously, not really knowing what to do next.

“Are you sure I look good?” He asks, playfully, seeing the way you're avoiding his eyes. Jisung takes a step closer, making you take a step back once more just for you to bump into the closed doors of the gymnasium. “Oh? Why do I get the feeling that you are thinking about running away?”

“Pff, me?” You scoff, “of course not”, you shake your head frantically.

He tsks, reaching for your waist and wrapping his arm around you.

“You know, a strong denial is like an affirmation in some cases.” Jisung says, bending down to your height, brushing his lips on yours but before you can lose yourself on his hold, you lift your hands pressing them against his chest and pushing him away.

“Can- can you not?” You huff, you can't believe you're even stuttering, you almost gave in. Almost.

You ended up giving in and it didn't take him much to convince you. Jisung was driving and you were anxiously waiting to arrive home, a cold shower and maybe a sex toy would do the trick. Everything was alright until he put his hand on your knee, sliding it up and down on your thigh. Did he get a new personality together with the makeover? He knows exactly what he's doing because he has that damn smirk plastered on his lips.

You didn't change from your cheer uniform since you had no energy and just wanted to get home to anxiously wait for Jisung's contact and now you regret it. It feels a thousand times more painful to have his hands touching the bare skin of your thighs. Each time that his hand comes up it gets closer to your core like he's testing the waters to see where you're willing to let him go.

What he still doesn't seem to know is that you're more than willing to let him go all the way and as soon as his hand gets too close to your throbbing core, you hold your breath as if that could do anything to help.

Jisung plays with the hem of your safety shorts without a care in the world, like he doesn't have you all turned on and your panties are not soaked.

“Stop the car”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at you before parking, making you want to rip that shit eating grin off of his face with a punch.

“What's wrong?” He asks cynically, unfastening his seatbelt to turn to you, his hand still caressing your thigh.

“You don't want to go there, Han Jisung”, you tell him, grabbing his arm to try and force his hand to stop touching you.

“Don't I?” He smiles, biting his bottom lip. You look so sexy saying his full name like that and he gets the urge to make you moan it. “I think I do”

“I hate you”, you groan, reaching to grab his collar and pulling him to you, making your mouths crash in a hungry kiss. You missed having him so close to you, his free hand cups your face and Jisung deepens the kiss, feeling your tongue caressing his so eagerly.

His other hand is working its way into your shorts, he's desperate to feel you on his fingers and as soon as he manages to get his hands under your panties, he can already feel your wetness leaking out of your sweet pussy.

“Shit”, he groans, disconnecting his lips from yours. “Are you usually this wet? Or is it just for me?” He asks shamelessly, making your whole face turn red.

You keep silent, trying to breathe normally again. It's embarrassing, how can someone provoke this kind of reaction out of you like this?

He chuckles, a dark deep chuckle while he slides his hand to your head to pull your hair.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asks, kissing you on the cheek at the same time as he places two fingers inside you, making you whimper. He pouts, tilting his head. “I'm sorry, you are so wet I thought you could handle two”

“Oh”, you feel your breathing out of pace and Jisung starts moving his fingers in and out of you. “J-jisung”, you moan, feeling his thumb circling around your clit. His fingers work fast, in and out of your hole, feeling you clenching around them. You're so tight, he can't wait to feel you around his cock.

His hair is all disheveled, pretty pink lips half open watching you becoming undone right in front of him. You want to stop him, you don't want to give him the satisfaction of ruining you so easily, but he's so handsome, his eyes are looking at you so deeply just waiting for you to come on his fingers.

The moment your whole body trembles, you close your eyes to the pleasure spreading all over you. You glare at him, panting and dizzy, seeing him take his fingers out of you and taking them straight to his mouth, licking them like a starved man.

“You taste as sweet as you look”, he tells you, fastening his seatbelt and starting the car again, driving back to the road like nothing happened.

“What about you?” You ask, seeing his obvious hard on.

“I think we had enough fun for today”, he glances at you, winking. It makes you sink in your seat, feeling your face turning red and the butterflies in your stomach. Jisung hopes you didn't realize that he would cum with a simple touch of yours, if he had your delicate hand around him one more time he wouldn't be able to last long, even less if he could feel your sweet lips on his cock, so he chose to avoid that embarrassment.

You feel excited from the moment you wake up and as a person who doesn't like waking up early that's a very difficult thing to achieve. But when you opened your eyes, groaning and exhausted, you picked up your phone to turn off the alarm just to find a few texts from Jisung saying he would be coming to pick you up.

That definitely left you excited, so you jumped out of the bed, grabbing a towel and running to the bathroom to take a quick shower. After finishing your bath, you get your hair done and choose the cutest clothes you have in your wardrobe.

The moment you go out, you see Jisung waiting for you outside of your house. He's looking good, leaning on his car with his hands in his pockets while he waits for you to walk to him.

“It should be illegal for someone to look this nice at this hour”, you try teasing him, to see if you can make him flustered.

“I was going to say the same”, he answers, checking you out, shamelessly and you are the one with a red face in the end, so you just give him a peck on the lips, trying to hide your embarrassment while getting into the car.

The ride to school is calm, you're nervously anticipating how people are going to act when they see you two, when they see Jisung.

Everyone stops to stare at you, at the same time as you want to hide from the prying eyes, you understand. Honestly, if you saw Han Jisung walking around looking like that you would stop to stare at him too.

He holds your hand, interlacing your fingers and leading you inside, a huge grin on his face, proud that he got the reaction he wanted. This was his plan, he wants you to show him off, he wants you to feel proud to be by his side and more than anything, he wants everyone to know you're his now.

He leaves you in your classroom, giving you a goodbye kiss and promising to find you later so you can have lunch together.

“Who was that?” Mina asks, mouth agape.

“That's Jisung”, you tell her proudly.

“Well, how did you work your magic so fast?” Miyeon asks.

“Will you believe it if I tell you I didn't do a thing?”

“I guess just dating you is enough to change a person”, Mina jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” You ask playfully and she chuckles.

“I guess you'll win the bet more easily than I thought”, she says, sighing, pretending to be disappointed.

“Actually, about that I-”, you fidget with your hands, it's not easy for you to give up and after what you just went through with Seunghoon you surely don't want to admit that what you have with Jisung is more than you could anticipate, it's something special. “I want to call it off, the bet”, you finally say, making your friends exchange glances, confused. “I don't want to play games with him”, you finish, sitting by Miyeon's side.

“Well, I didn't think you would give up so easily”, Mina laughs, “you're such a softie, y/n”

You smile, remembering about Jisung's hands on you earlier this morning, trying not to blush too much.

“I'll win the captain title again fair and square”, you tell Mina, stretching a hand to her so she can shake it. “And about Seunghoon, I don't really care about him anymore”, you shrug.

Mina shakes your hand back proudly, she can see something different in you now and she's happy that maybe you're seeing in yourself all the potential she's been trying to convince you that you have for all these years.

You feel a little bit jealous. Now Jisung can barely walk more than three meters without someone greeting or hitting on him, you're pouting during lunch, playing with your food while he goes on and on about 3racha’s new track.

“Are you listening?” He asks, tilting his head while looking at you.

“I am”, you nod, even though you could barely understand what he was saying.

“You're acting weird again”, he sighs, lifting his hand to your chin and pulling your face so you can look at him. “Talk to me”

“It's nothing”, you are the one sighing now, “I'm just being stupid”

“Tell me then, I'll be the judge of that”, he pushes.

“It's just-” you can't help but sulk while talking, “Those girls were clearly hitting on you earlier and you didn't do anything about it”, you whine, “I'm being stupid because I'm not even sure what I wanted you to do in that situation, even so, I'm still feeling bad and angry”

Jisung can't hold back the big smile that grows on his lips, he leans closer to your face, supporting his elbow on the table.

“Is my baby jealous?”, he asks playfully, with a cute voice, making you pout even harder, crossing your arms.

“Stop that, I'm not”, you say, feeling your cheeks burning because of the pet name.

“If you're not jealous, then can I go and get their numbers?” He tests, making you glare at him. Jisung laughs, embracing you in a hug and kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I didn't even notice they were hitting on me. I was so focused on just answering their questions so I could get the hell out of their sight, I'm sorry I made you feel bad”, he clarifies.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around him and relaxing in his embrace.

“Don't apologize, I was being ridiculous”

Jisung breaths out, pulling away from your embrace and cupping your face with his hands. He stares at you for a few seconds, trying to use the right words to speak to you.

“You should definitely stop invalidating what you feel. What you feel is not ridiculous or stupid”, he gives a peck on your lips, brushing his nose on yours. “You can always tell me about your feelings, I'll always listen to you. So don't say things like that, alright?”

You want to cry, you want to smile, you want to hug him and never let go. So you snuggle in his embrace, nodding and mumbling about how he shouldn't get too close to other girls, making him smile while he kisses the top of your head. What did you do to deserve someone like him?

After finishing your lunch you two get up, carrying your trays back to their place and talking about what ice cream you should buy since you have a free afternoon. However, when you cross the doors to the dining hall, you bump directly into Seunghoon, causing a minute of awkward silence between you three. No apologies, just your ex staring at Jisung like he's trying to win a staring contest or something like that.

“Long time no see, y/n”, Seunghoon smiles to you, as if you didn't basically tell him to fuck off a few weeks ago. “I see you're accompanied, I'm Seunghoon, a friend of y/n”, he stretches his hand to shake Jisung's.

“I know who you are”, Jisung says, shaking the other man's hand. The hostility in the atmosphere is palpable but before you can excuse yourself, Seunghoon's voice is heard once more.

“Y/N promised that she would go on a double date with me and my girlfriend”, he recalls, “now that we are acquainted I feel like we can set a date”, he smiles and if you didn't know him you'd think he's genuinely interested in having a double date with friends.

“Sure, just let me know the day and time and we'll be there”, Jisung answers before you have the chance to deny.

You watch as Seunghoon chuckles, nodding and giving his goodbye. Your stomach sinking in, you have a bad feeling about this.

“What was that about?” You ask Jisung, brows knit together in confusion.

“What was what?”

“Don't play with me, Han Jisung”, you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest and he sighs, biting on his bottom lip.

Jisung may or may not have regretted it the moment he accepted without checking with you first, but your ex just makes him so mad. The fact that he's not at least a bit apologetic about what he did to you just doesn't sit right with Jisung, how could he break your heart and nonchalantly show up in front of you asking for a double date with the girl he cheated on you with. Fuck him.

“I'm sorry”, Jisung sighs, sulking. “I should have checked with you but I just felt so angry”

You stare at him for a moment, sighing. That sucks, it seems you can't stay mad at him for too long.

“It's fine, I'm sure he would bother us until we accepted it”, you say, grabbing his arm to force him to carry on your walk. “Shall we go shopping for some couple outfits today?” You smile at him, that's going to be his punishment.

Or at least it should have been, so why does Jisung look so excited with every piece of clothing you try on? He looks very happy to buy things for him but not nearly as much as when he's watching you.

You ended up buying a couple's pajamas and for the date — that Seunghoon didn't lose any time scheduling for Friday — you got a bracelet with a pendant that resembles a ferris wheel, the place you two kissed for the first time.

“Shall we go to the amusement park again?” He asks, raising your hand high enough for him to look at the bracelet.

He sees your eyes shine to that simple mention and he smiles when you nod frantically.

“There were so many rides we didn't get to go because it was too crowded”, you say excitedly, “We have to go on the roller coaster”

“We do?” He chuckles nervously, “that thing is kinda scary”

“Of course we do!” You stop in your tracks, making him look at you. “I'll hold your hand the whole time, so you have nothing to worry about.”

You say, confidently and oddly enough, Jisung feels really reassured with your words.

“Oh, you're my knight in shining armor”, he sighs dramatically. “What would I do without you? Hm?”

He uses the hand he's holding to pull you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing your bodies against each other. Jisung gives you a peck on the lips, smiling when he sees you blushing.

“You better always keep me close to you”, you tell him, avoiding his eyes. “So I can protect you”

“Mmn”, he agrees, snuggling his face in the crock of your neck, “I'll keep you always in arm's length”

The dreadful Friday arrives too fast, when neither you or Jisung wanted it to come. You try not to think too much about the way you're dressed, you don't want your ex to think you dressed up for him. Jisung on the other hand, wants to look his best so Seunghoon can swallow back all the things he said about you, knowing that you did in fact find someone better.

“Ready?” He asks you when you get into the car.

“Can't we just stand them up?” You ask, hopeful, while fastening your seatbelt.

“Let's just stay for thirty minutes, then I can pretend I received a call and we have to go”, he grabs your hand and kisses it, “how does that sound?”

“Sounds good”, you nod, smiling at him. But that damn feeling that something just isn't right keeps bothering you.

Jisung drives slowly, trying to avoid the unavoidable. It should be fine, nothing is gonna go wrong, it's just anxiety trying to make him paranoid.

Seunghoon chose a fancy restaurant, Jisung is only used to going to places like that when he meets someone from the label, together with Chan and Changbin. He doesn't really like fancy places, he wanted to take you there on a date because he thought that was something you would like but in the end you're not into that either.

“I should probably tell you right now that this restaurant is where Seunghoon asked me to be his girlfriend”, you tell Jisung as soon as he parks in front of the place your double date is supposed to happen.

“What?” Jisung asks, confused.

“I didn't want to believe before we actually arrived but I knew I recognized that address when you showed it to me”, you explain. “I think he just wants to brag, he'll try to get under your skin for sure. Maybe he'll try to talk about the time we dated, that would be a dick move since his girlfriend is gonna be there but he is a dick so I don't expect less from him”, you start to ramble nervously.

“It's okay, you're with me now”, he reassures you one more time, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “we are gonna go there, hear whatever he has to say and in thirty minutes we are out and we can even go to a real date just the two of us”, Jisung tilts his head waiting for your confirmation and you nod, leaning closer and kissing him.

“That sounds great, you are great”, you tell him

Awkward, stifling, suffocating. Those are the words that better describe how the dinner began on that night. Seunghoon was late but his girlfriend was already there so you had to awkwardly sit there with the girl your ex boyfriend cheated on you with. You are a good person and you don't want to cause a scene, especially because you don't really care about your ex anymore so you feel a bit grateful to this girl who took that bomb away from you.

“I liked your stunt on the last game”, she says, sheepishly while picking on her nails.

“Ah, yes. We worked for three months to come up with that one”, you answer, sipping on your cup of water and cursing Seunghoon in your mind. Where the hell is he?

Except that when Seunghoon waltzed inside the restaurant, you knew exactly why he was late. The look of utter disappointment on his face told you everything you needed to know, he wanted you two to fight over him. You wanna laugh. Did he really expect to come in late just to find his ex and current girlfriend grabbing each other by the hair or yelling at each other? What a fucking loser.

He probably didn't expect to see Jisung's arms wrapped around your waist, leaning so close to you or the whispers and giggles that were never common in your relationship with him.

“Where have you been?” His girlfriend asks while he sits down but he doesn't even look at her, eyes fixed on you and Jisung.

“Something happened”, he brushes off, vaguely. “Let's order?”

You and Jisung exchange confused looks, nodding to him.

“Oh, this is the place where we started dating, right?” Seunghoon asks, after the waiter takes your order, pretending like he didn't know about it when he set the date there.

“Yeah”, you sigh, eyeing Jisung, already knowing where your ex was trying to go with that.

“You loved the pasta here, why didn't you order that?” He asks and you glance at his girlfriend who's glaring at him.

“I didn't like the pasta, you did”, you sigh, feeling Jisung's pulling you a little closer to him, making you look at him to see the man smiling at you. You release the air you didn't even notice you were holding and you realize how stiff your whole body is, why does Seunghoon make you so nervous? It didn't feel this way the other day when you met him by yourself. It's just that you have the feeling that he has an ulterior motive to this dinner, other than just bragging about his new relationship.

He looks mad at your answer, even more mad because of how close Jisung is to you. You used to be like that with him, grasping at the slightest bit of affection he would give you. He thought you would come back to him eventually, Seunghoon thought you would forgive him, would depend on him once more so why didn't you? Why don't you need him anymore?

“I heard something funny”, he grabs everyone's attention suddenly. “Heard that you're only dating him because of a bet?” He sneers.

Your heart stops at that moment.

“What?” You ask, immediately turning to Jisung who looks frozen, staring at Seunghoon.

“Yeah, one of my friends heard the funniest conversation in one of his classes”, he laughs, “I’m sure you already know about it, right?” He asks Jisung, raising a brow in amusement.

Jisung starts to shake, he can't look at you, not right now. But he also can't let Seunghoon win, it would be too humiliating for the both of you.

“Yeah, I knew about it”, he lies, feeling the least bit satisfied with the annoyed groan Seunghoon lets out. “I think you should start treating your girl better rather than taking care of y/n’s relationship”, he finishes, standing up. “I lost my appetite, let's go”, Jisung tells you, stretching his hand so you can hold it but his eyes don't look into yours.

Jisung doesn't say a word to you until he parks in front of your house and you were too scared to start the conversation but when he kept quiet even after ten minutes, only staring at the wheel in his hands, you couldn't take it anymore.

“I know I should have told you before, I-”

“So he was telling the truth?” He looks at you for the first time in the last hour and you wish he didn't, the hurt in his eyes makes your chest feel like someone is squeezing your heart. “You are low”, he spits.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes, you know you deserve that but at the same time you could never have imagined him treating you this way.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”, the tears start running down your face, “it started as a bet but I called it off, I swear” you try grabbing his hand so he can look at you but he snatches himself out of your grasp, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking outside. He's afraid he'll cry if he looks at you, he's scared he'll give in if he so much as glances at you.

“I need to think”, it's the only thing he says.

“Jisung, please, hear me out”, you plead once more but he doesn't look at you.

“I don't want to hear anything right now”, he tells you, stretching his body over yours to open your door, waiting for you to get out.

You step out of the car, glancing at him over and over, expecting him to change his mind but he doesn't and you watch as the car disappears far away on the road.

You only let yourself cry after closing the door to your room, even though there's no one else home, you still feel like you need to lock yourself up so you can feel anything.

You're such an idiot, you should have told him about the bet but it was something so meaningless that it didn't even cross your mind that you should come clean to him, in your head everything that mattered was that you liked him and that you called the bet off but you didn't take into consideration that he would feel hurt about that and that's what hurts the most.

You always talk about how Seunghoon did bad things to you, that he didn't have any regard towards you, but did you have any towards Jisung? You waltzed into his life, put him in the spotlight and made him open himself to you, but you couldn't take the time to think about how hurt he would feel if he found out about the circumstances that made you like him in the first place.

You feel guilty about everything, you wish you could turn back time and change everything but you can't, you can't go back and you can't make it up to him, you have to wait for him to forgive you or in the worst case scenario, for him to dump you and that hurts too much.

Jisung knew someone like you wouldn't like someone like him just because you thought he was cute, he knew that there was something behind your sweet words and harsh moves on him but he chose to ignore every signal, every flag and every warning his mind pointed out because he wanted to believe you. Jisung wanted to let himself like you, he wanted to be the one to protect you, the one whom you would call on every minor inconvenience you run into but in the end, he should have been the one being protected from you.

He can't believe he let himself fall for you, why would you even like him? At least he thought you did, he thought you felt happy when you were with him. Lies, everything was a huge lie and he wants to punch himself for letting you make a fool out of him like that.

A week goes by without news of Jisung, you see him walking through the school's corridors but you're too scared to approach him so you just watch as he keeps his routine everyday, like nothing happened, like you were never in his life.

Mina and Miyeon are making shifts to stay with you, if they don't you won't eat properly and you only sleep when the exhaustion is so much your body can't handle it anymore. You're scared he'll end things, but you're ready to beg if he tries too, you know Jisung is worth begging for.

On one of the rare moments you find yourself alone, you try to stay away from everyone else who are not your close friends. You're hiding in the building where Jisung has his classes, in hopes that you can see at least a glimpse of his face.

“Where have you been?” You hear an annoying voice right behind you, making you sigh while you turn around to see Seunghoon with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You disappeared after our double date, did your new boyfriend really know about your bet?” He chuckles, making you want to punch him in the face. This is all his fault, if he didn't open his filthy mouth to say those things to Jisung you could have come clean to him and maybe this whole incident could have been avoided.

“Fuck you, Seunghoon”, you lose you composure, not really caring about winning this one, you just want to curse at him. “You cheated on me and then you tried to ruin my relationship and for what? Leave me the hell alone”, you spit out, walking past him but before you can go further you feel his grasp on your wrist, forcing you to turn around.

“You used to adore me, y/n, you were supposed to forget about everything and just stay with me so why did you rebel?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, I never ‘adored’ you, I just treated you like a good girlfriend should treat her boyfriend even though you have never done the same to me”, you try shaking your arm away from him but he doesn't let go. “I'm sick and tired of you, let go of me right now”, you pull your arm again with all your strength but he's grabbing you so strongly it's starting to hurt.

“Let's start over, yeah? I'll be good to you this time”, he asks, like he didn't hear anything you said.

“I have someone I really like now, nothing you do is gonna change that’, you groan, feeling your wrist sore. “I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore, just forget about me”

“Why do you always make everything so difficult-”, he tries to drag you away from the prying eyes who are starting to watch the scene unfolding, but you feel hands on your shoulders steadying you in place. Jisung walks in front of you, pushing Seunghoon and forcing him to let go of you.

“This doesn't concern you”, your ex says through gritted teeth.

“If it concerns y/n, it concerns me”, Jisung answers.

“Just because you got a little popular you think you can come up against me?” Seunghoon scoffs, coming closer to Jisung, challenging him.

“You're an idiot if you think you can just grab someone's girlfriend like that and don't get in trouble”, Jisung says, “if you have anything to discuss with her you can talk to me first”

“Don't be ridiculous, we can talk like grown ups. Right, y/n?” Seunghoon tries to come to you, but Jisung grabs him by the collar.

“Don't even fucking try”, Jisung glares at him, “if you get close to her one more time you're not gonna be able to play your next game”, he finishes, letting go of Seunghoon and pushing him away from you.

Seunghoon huffs and puffs but he knows he can't get into trouble if he wants to stay on the football team, so he curses you for the last time before turning around and walking away.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, looking around.

“Yeah, I'm fine”, you say, stepping closer to him but that's when you notice he's not looking at you and he's not even trying to hide that. “Thank you for helping me”, stepping back and stroking your wrist which hurts like hell. You want to cry but it's not from the pain coming from there, it's from the immeasurable ache coming from your chest.

“It's nothing”, he sighs, “try not to stay alone for now, you should stop coming here too”, he says, nodding to you before he's gone, walking away from you. Leaving you there, feeling empty.

“Should I be worried?” Chan asks Changbin, as soon as he sees the number of empty cans thrown in the center table in the living room. Jisung is seated on the floor looking at the TV but clearly not watching, he's just staring at it with an empty gaze.

“He's been like that since yesterday”, Changbin sighs, leaning over the kitchen counter while watching his younger friend open another can of beer. “You would have know if you had come back home”

“So, on the only night I sleep in my girlfriend's house, Han turns into an alcoholic?” Chan asks, ironically.

“He's been weird for a few days, I think he fought with y/n”, Changbin says, “I knew there was something going on.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I tried, but he won't answer my questions or just sighs randomly while I'm talking”

“I'll try talking to him”, Chan says, looking at his friend who just shrugs, going back to wash the dishes.

The older one gets closer slowly, sitting on the couch and looking at Jisung for a moment, trying to see if he'll acknowledge his presence but it doesn't happen, the younger one doesn't even move.

“Hey, are you alright?” Chan asks, but there's no answer to his question. “Look, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?” He tries again, but still receives no answer, so he snatches Jisung's beer out of his hand, receiving a frustrated grunt from his friend.

“Give it back”, Jisung finally lets out.

“Talk to me”, Chan pleads.

“There's nothing to talk about”, Jisung shrugs. He should end things with you, even if it hurts, that's what he should do, right?

“Clearly there's something going on”, Chan says, “I won't leave you alone until you talk and you know I can be really annoying when I want to”

Jisung sighs, he knows that very well.

“She only asked me out because of a bet”, Jisung says, “y/n, I mean”

Chan sucks through his teeth, that's not a nice thing to do. But he can't really judge her when he did something similar when he started seeing his girlfriend, so he'll have to play devil's advocate this time.

“She ended things with you then? Because the bet is over or something like that?” He tries to push to know a bit more.

“No, her ex told me”, Jisung says, continuing when Chan frowns in confusion, “he was trying to get under my skin so we would fight”

“What about y/n?”

“She said she called it off and that she likes me”, he chuckles, “I don't believe her”

“Why not?” Chan asks, still confused. “Look, Han, what she did is shitty, okay? That's not open for discussion, but why are you doubting that she likes you? Shouldn't she use this opportunity to get out of this relationship now that you found out about the bet? Why would she lie about it? It doesn't make sense”, Chan points out.

“Why would someone like her like someone like me? I'm no one”, Jisung cries out, he knows Chan is right but he just can't let himself fall for your trap again, he can't handle it if you break his heart a second time.

“Now you're only letting your self doubt talk, what do you mean you're no one?” Chan sighs, “you're a great friend, you're smart and you're part of 3racha, you're talented as hell, Binnie and I would be nothing without you”, Chan says.

“Yeah, but she's so wonderful”, Jisung sighs, “she's kind and smart, she's funny and cute, she's the prettiest girl I have ever got to know”

“Did she ever tell you that you weren't those things too?”

“No”, the younger one looks at Chan with puppy eyes. “But still, why would she make a bet to date me if I wasn't a loser?”

“You should ask her that yourself”, Chan shrugs. “You know I did some questionable things to date my girl and I'm not proud of that, but I love her with all my heart. In the end, maybe what's important is what's on her heart right now and not when it started”

When you receive Jisung's text telling you he wants to meet up, you feel relieved. He's finally gonna talk to you but at the same time you feel anxious, he's very vague about what you're going to talk about so you can't ignore the possibility of him ending things.

You set the date in your house, you don't want to go to a public place just to end up a crying mess in front of everyone there. So you wait patiently until Jisung arrives, you bite all your nails, clean everything that can be cleaned even though it's already impeccable, you do anything that can ease your anxiety and make you less nervous.

Three knocks on the door make you jump from the couch, running to the entrance and opening the door in a fast swing.

You missed Jisung's face, his round cheeks look smaller than the last time you saw him and the eyebags under his eyes are huge. You are no different from that, you know you lost weight since your cheer uniform is big on you and you're breaking out in pimples because of the stress.

“Hi”, you say, awkwardly, giving space for him to enter.

“Hey”, he answers, waiting for you to guide him to wherever you want to talk.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Should you have offered? It's something you always do when you have guests.

“I'm good”, he answers again. “Can we cut to the chase?” He turns to you, arms crossed in front of his chest. That doesn't sound good, he doesn't look like he forgave you.

“Yeah”, you nod, bracing yourself for what's to come.

“Was everything a lie?” Jisung asks, biting his bottom lip. “Was anything you ever said real?”

“Yes it was, almost everything”, you take a step closer to him but he takes a step back, not ready to be so close to you yet. “Everything started as a bet, I wanted to make someone better than Seunghoon so I could make him jealous”, you sigh, feeling like an idiot.

“It was your idea?” He asks, staring at you.

“No, it was not my idea but I accepted it anyway”, you shake your head. “I know it's stupid, I know it is. But I fell in love with you and when I realized I didn't want to hurt you I called the bet off”, you explain.

“And when was that?”

“Three weeks ago”

He sighs, walking around for a minute, trying to think.

“How am I supposed to trust you now?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to rationalize, trying to find an excuse for you, so he can forgive you.

“You are-”, a sob leaves your lips as soon as you start talking, tears running down your cheeks, you didn't even notice you were crying. “You're the first person who ever showed me what love really is”, you try to explain.

“So, do you like me or do you like the way I make you feel?” He whispers, eyes pleading for your answer to not destroy the little bit of hope he still has on you.

“I like y- I love you”, you try holding his hands once more. “I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, Jisung. I love everything about you, I sleep thinking about you and I wake up thinking about you. When I'm eating something nice I always ask myself if you already ate or if you would like what I'm having. When I'm out having fun I always wish you were there with me. Whenever we go to different classes I miss you immediately and I count every second so I can see you again”, you squeeze his hand. “I’m not asking for you to forgive me right now but please don't leave me, please stay with me”, you plead, feeling the tears running down your face.

Jisung's heart breaks from listening to your cries and sobs, he wants to save his pride and leave you for good. But he can't, Jisung is so in love with you right now that even the thought of staying away from you hurts much more than how he hurt because of what you did.

So he kisses you, his hands cup your face as usual, like nothing ever happened, like you never stayed apart. You missed his warmth, his lips, his hands on your body, everything.

“I missed you”, you tell him, wrapping your arms around his waist, ready to never let go again.

“I missed you too”, he sighs, “and I love you too”

“I'm so sorry, I swear I'll never do anything to hurt you ever again”, you grasp his shirt, bringing him even closer to you.

He knows he shouldn't feel reassured by your promise, how could he? But he does, he's just stupid but that's the effect you have on him.

You sit together and you tell him everything. Why you started a bet and why you chose him, when you started to like him and why you didn't tell him about the whole situation before.

You also talk about how terrible it was for the both of you to stay apart for so long, how you were ready to beg him to forgive you and that made him laugh, that's something he could never imagine you doing.

In the end you're both exhausted. Days without sleeping properly finally come back to bite the both of you on the ass so you invite Jisung to stay over, needing to stay close to him more than usual. You two stare at each other for a moment while laying down together, you can't even believe he forgave you and that he's there with you.

Jisung brushes off the strands of hair falling over your eyes, caressing your cheek before leaning closer to kiss you for the last time before the both of you give in to the deep slumber that's waiting.

“I love you”, he whispers when you close your eyes, making you smile like an idiot.

“I love you too”, you say back to him, letting yourself fall into unconsciousness.

When the light coming through the windows hits your eyes, you start waking up, slowly trying to look around just to see a sleepy Jisung with his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He looks pretty even when he's sleeping, pouting a bit while he breathes quietly.

You can't hold yourself, so you lean closer giving a peck on his cheek.

“Hannie, wake up”, you whisper seeing his eyes flutter and his pout grows bigger.

“Just five more minutes”, he asks, pulling you even closer to him.

You sigh, deciding to let him sleep but when you try to get up the hold he has on your waist gets stronger.

“Where are you going?” He asks, opening his eyes.

“I was going to make some breakfast”, you say, watching him shaking his head and snuggling closer to you.

“No, I don't wanna. Stay here with me”, he whines.

“But what are we gonna eat?”

“We can order something”, he kisses your cheek, trailing kisses to your mouth and then to your neck, biting and sucking on the skin making you giggle and squirm in his embrace.

Jisung chuckles, kissing you. It's a slow, familiar kiss, one of his hands cupping your face and the other holds your waist pulling you closer. You put your hand on his hip, trying to find stability because you feel dizzy with his scent and his lips on you.

He parts the kiss so you both can breathe, but he keeps landing pecks on your jaw, neck and collarbone. His hands land on the rem of your shirt, he looks at you waiting for your permission and you nod, watching as he instantly pulls the piece of fabric out of you. Jisung bites his lower lip, staring down at your breasts, you look so beautiful he thinks that maybe he died and went to heaven.

The man leans closer, licking on your hard nipples, making you suck through your teeth, feeling his hot breath hit on your cold skin.

“Fuck”, you mutter when he bites lightly on the spot. Jisung chuckles, feeling your hands grabbing on his arms and your nails gripping on his skin. He keeps going down, leaving warm and wet kisses down your stomach, finding the waistband of your pajama pants and giving a kiss on both the sides of your hips before pulling the piece of clothing down.

He stares at your panties for a moment, it has bees printed on it and that makes him laugh.

“Do you like bees that much?” He asks, pulling the fabric down while he watches you squirm in embarrassment. You didn't think you'd have sex first thing in the morning so you didn't bother changing to something more sexy. You slap the palm of your hands in front of your eyes, covering your face. “You're cute”, he says, pulling your underwear down and kissing your right knee, then the left, “and so pretty.” You take one of your hands out of your eyes just to see Jisung staring right to your core. He's getting comfortable on the bed, positioning your legs over his shoulders while he grabs your hips with his hands to keep you in place.

Jisung doesn't lose time, kissing the inside of your thighs before licking your pussy, a long and wet strand that makes you immediately want to close your legs but his hands won't let you move. He slides one of his hands in between your legs, pressing a digit over your clit and then inserting the same finger inside you. Jisung sucks on your clit, circling the bud with his tongue while you stare at him, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth with so much strength it could draw blood.

“I can't get enough of your taste”, he says, using his free hand to clean around his mouth, licking his fingers soon after. “Can you handle another finger, baby?” He asks, cockily while you throw your head back, nodding frantically.

Jisung inserts a second finger, going back to suck on your sweet pussy, he feels like he could cum just by eating you out. His hip starts moving by itself while he searches for some friction, humping on the bed.

“Sungie”, you let out, hands landing on his head while you pull it closer to your cunt. “I'm close”, you squirm, feeling his tongue working faster and his fingers reaching places you never could. The knot on your stomach keeps growing until you feel like seeing stars, your legs shake uncontrollably and you moan loudly, eyes screwed shut.

Jisung groans, satisfied, it's so good to feel you cumming in his mouth, he could stay between your legs forever.

He trails kisses back to you, kissing your lips with such hunger you're not sure where it's coming from. You can feel your taste in his mouth and that only adds to the arousal you are still feeling even after an orgasm.

You look at his swollen lips and disheveled hair, thinking he's the prettiest man you have ever seen in your entire life. Your hands go to the rem of his shirt and in a swift move, you get it out of him, staring at his upper body like someone starved. You smirk, pushing him down so you can lean over him, doing the same as he did to you and trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, chest and stomach, until you see the path to your happiness. You pull his pants down, underwear going together, his hard cock springs hitting on his stomach, the head leaking with pre-cum, making you lick your lips, salivating just with the thought of all of that in your mouth.

You look at Jisung, he's waiting patiently for you to do something, anything and you like the feeling of having him in that place, wanting to be satisfied by you. You lean over, licking at his shaft from the base to the head before putting everything inside your mouth.

You can't feet all of him, so you grab the base stroking it up and down on the parts your mouth can't reach.

“Oh my god”, you hear his whimper, smiling to yourself because you're the one provoking that reaction out of him. You keep sucking on his cock, looking at him, Jisung has his head thrown back, lips slightly apart but he struggles to keep watching you, the image of you sucking on him is just too much for him, you're just too sexy, he can't handle it.

Jisung can feel his release approaching, he taps on your shoulder trying to catch your attention while you're so concentrated in sucking him off.

“I'm gonna cum”, he manages to let out but rather than stopping, you suck him even harder and stroking his cock with more resolution. In a moment you feel his hot cum spreading all over your mouth, making you smile while you swallow everything, opening your mouth and showing your tongue to him.

You come closer to him, kissing him the same as he did to you and he can feel his taste on your tongue.

“Fuck, you're so hot”, he says as soon as he splits the kiss between the two of you.

“It's all for you”, you whisper, leaning close to his ear. Jisung smiles, you're going to make him go insane.

“Do you have any condoms?” He asks, hastily, grabbing you by the hips and making you sit on his lap. You nod, leaning over the nightstand to open the drawer, showing him the package.

“But I'm on birth control”, you tell him, blushing. You never asked to be fucked raw before, you and your ex always used protection even though he protested a lot about it. “I'm clean, I got tested after I found out about the cheating”, you complete. It would be embarrassing if Jisung refused but it doesn't hurt to ask. All you want is to feel his cock inside you.

“A-are you sure?” He asks, correcting himself when you tilt your head in confusion, brows knit together. “I mean, are you sure about not using protection?” He completes and you nod.

“I trust you”, you kiss the tip of his nose, making his heart flutter. Just the thought of fucking you raw managed to make his semi erection turns into a full hard on in a second.

“Okay”, he nods, throwing the package away while he sits down. Jisung gives a few strokes on his cock before you position yourself over him, he puts the tip on your entrance holding his breath as soon as he feels your wet walls around him. “Shit, you're so tight”, his hands land on your hips, helping you go down on his length.

It hurts a little, he's bigger than average so the burning sensation is not surprising to you, even though you were well prepared it still is an intrusion.

“You're the one who's big”, you tell him, biting on his shoulder as soon as you manage to fit all of him inside of you. You stay still for a moment, catching your breath. When your hips start moving it feels so good, it's almost indescribable, the amount of places he can reach is ridiculous, you want to have his cock inside of you all day.

Your pussy is just so good, Jisung can't help gripping your hips more tightly, encouraging you to move faster. He thrusts his hips against you, spitting on his fingers and sliding his hand down to your clit, making circles there while he watches you riding him with your eyes closed shut, feeling your high closer and closer. He's no different, your flattering walls squeezing him are too much for him, he feels like he can cum anytime now.

Jisung kisses you, feeling you moan loudly against his lips, you grip his shoulder burying your nails on his skin and that only makes him crazier. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, going deeper inside of you. You throw your head back, not able to hold in any longer. Your moans are music to Jisung's ears, he's sure he can cum just by hearing you so it's no surprise when he reaches his orgasm, shooting his seed inside you.

“Fuck”, he groans, movements faltering. You watch as he leans on you, head resting on your chest. That's what's necessary for you to cum and you are almost not able to breathe normally after the intensity of that orgasm.

Jisung helps you lie down on the bed, getting comfortable by your side while he snuggles himself close to you.

“I love you”, that's what he says, looking at you with loving eyes and there's nothing more running through his mind other than how much he loves you.

“I love you too”, you giggle happily, giving a peck on his lips. “I'll need a whole day to recover from this, though”, you tease.

“What do you mean? You better be ready for another round”, he answers, smiling and kissing you. You better brace yourself.

[End]

———

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

Taglist: @rockstrhanji @angelsquid @feelikecinderella @realrintaro @bomi-ja @sasiiidumpling @itshannjisung @whyisaah @weareapackofstrays @kkamismom12 @soonie1010 @bberymi @minleemin @ayejaii

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 16 days

Text

Put it in your mouth

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 1

Prompts: Make-Up Sex & Pillow Princess

Words: 1,191

Tags: Friends to lovers; Idiots to lovers; Anal Fingering; Oral Sex; Anal Sex; Power Bottom Steve; Service Top Eddie

Notes: Eddie "Foot in Mouth" Munson strikes again. He's putting so many things in his mouth in this one. Get it? (God, I'm hilarious.) 🤭

The sky is turning bright when Eddie crunches to a brake in Steve's driveway. He swings open his door and is halfway up the front porch when he stops.

He shouldn't be here, the nagging voice at the back of his mind says. Between the jitters before the tv gig and interview and everything that happened after, he hasn't slept in close to forty-eight hours. He can't exactly be trusted to make rational decisions, and even if he could, who's saying Steve wants to see him?

Eddie curses, replaying the memory that has been plaguing him the entire way here. He called Steve the second he returned to the hotel, grinning from ear to ear like the idiot that he is.

“Did you watch it?” he blurted the moment the call connected.

“Yeah,” Steve said. The curt answer could've clued Eddie in, but he was still high on adrenaline and applause, so it didn't.

“I dunno about you,” he sing-songed, flopping down on the bed and twirling the phone cord. “But I'd say that went pretty fucking fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” Steve repeated dryly. “Yeah, right. Glad you think so, you fucking asshole.”

Eddie stopped playing with the cord.

“Stevie?” he croaked. “What's wrong?”

Steve laughed. “If you don't know that, you're dumber than I thought.”

Then he hung up. Eddie was left in his hotel room, staring dumbly at the receiver. When he tried to call back, Steve didn't pick up.

Eddie wasted the better part of an hour lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Why was Steve mad at him? Ever since the beginnings of their unlikely, Upside Down forged friendship, he'd been fervently supportive of Eddie’s music. Showing up to his gigs, listening until late into the night while Eddie worked on new songs. Hell, he'd probably been more nervous about this whole thing than Eddie, seeing him off with a lingering hug and a promise to talk to him later.

It must’ve been something he said at the interview, but what? Eddie scowled as he rehashed every single question and answer.

Where did he get the inspiration for his songs? He’d spouted some bullshit about ostracization and alienation and smalltown conventions, because the truth would’ve meant breaking about a million NDAs.

Was he excited about the upcoming tour and album? Yes, obviously, he couldn’t wait to see all those different places, play in front of all sorts of people.

Was there somebody at home rooting for him? A special girl maybe? Nope, nobody, he was happily single and planning on staying that- … wait.

Eddie shot up from the bed so suddenly he gave himself vertigo, letting out a very loud and very colorful string of swear words. In the room next to his, someone banged on the wall, asking if he had any clue what time it was. Eddie didn't. He also didn't pause to find out.

Now, a hasty check-out and one speed-limit-defying drive later, he’s staring at Steve’s front door, all previous courage slowly seeping out of him.

Maybe he got this all wrong. Maybe he's imagining this. He has experience with imagining things - has spent countless nights fantasizing about what it would feel like, touching Steve as more than a friend. The feel of Steve’s lips, the taste of Steve’s skin. Maybe he should leave, come back with a clear head tomorrow, so that they can talk this over like the sensible adults they-

“Shit, Eddie?”

The door is open, spilling light onto the porch. At the center of it, nail bat in one hand, disheveled hair back-lit in caramel and gold, is Steve. He's in his sleep clothes - checkered boxers and one of Eddie’s old band shirts that he stole months ago. Those pretty eyes are large with surprise, but when Eddie takes a hesitant step towards him, Steve’s expression closes off.

“I don't believe you,” he mutters, and makes to close the door. Eddie acts on impulse alone, bridging the distance and wedging his foot into the crack. Steve glowers at him. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You,” Eddie breathes , and closes the gap.

From one second to the next, all of his doubts evaporate, because this right here? This is all he's ever wanted. They crash into the wall of the foyer, nail bat clattering to the floor, and Eddie spends a glorious few minutes reveling in the heady rush of Steve’s lips on his, Steve's mouth opening for his tongue, Steve’s nails clawing into his back.

When they part, Steve is deliciously flushed, lips shiny and slightly parted, ragged puffs of breath tickling Eddie’s skin.

“Want you,” Eddie repeats. “Fuck, Stevie, I've wanted you for so long. I'm such an idiot, I never-”

“Prove it then,” Steve says. His arms loop around Eddie’s neck, slotting them further together, and Eddie gasps as his cock presses against his thigh - a long, hard weight through the thin fabric of his shorts. “If you want me so much, show me just how desperate you are.”

“More. Deeper. C'mon, or are you tired already?”

Eddie moans around an aching jaw. He isn't tired, he's in heaven. There's drool running down his chin, his tongue and neck and shoulders are on fire, but Steve is here with him, sprawled against the headboard like a king, spread out for him like a feast.

Steve fists one hand into the curls at the back of his head, shoving him back down on his cock, and Eddie swallows him down in one greedy gulp, eager to show his devotion. Looking up at Steve through tear-clouded eyes, he pushes his fingers deeper inside, curling them to hit that sweet spot. Steve gasps and clenches around him, eyes fluttering shut, head tipping back to reveal that long neck. The taste of precum floods Eddie’s tongue, salty and delicious, and he moans around the cock lodged in his throat. Lust coils painfully in his stomach, shooting up his spine like red-hot sparks, and his naked cock throbs with it.

“Please,” he says, pulling off with an obscene, wet sound. Steve looks down at him, brows raised, eyes bright and glassy with arousal. “Please, Stevie, I need-”

“Huh,” Steve says, and Eddie can tell he's trying to sound unimpressed, even with the way it comes out around a shaky moan. “You think you've earned it?”

Eddie smiles.

“Me?” he says. He swirls his tongue around Steve’s leaking tip, reveling in the whine he gets when he pulls his fingers out. “Oh, honey, this isn't about me. This is all about you.”

He licks and bites his way up Steve's hip bones, his stomach, that glorious chest and neck, drinking in every little gasp, every shuddering breath.

“All that time you spent waiting for me to finally get it? I think you've earned it. You deserve to be spoiled rotten. You deserve to feel so good. Please, baby, let me make you feel good.”

“Asshole,” Steve says, but this time, it's full of fondness. “You always know what to say, huh?”

“Not always,” Eddie murmurs against his mouth, greedily swallowing Steve’s moan as he pushes in. “Only when it matters most.”

More smutty September

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #hype's smutty september #steddie smutty september

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florencemtrash · 7 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twelve

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None! Familiar faces return to Velaris and Y/n finally gets a chance to explore the city...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

I’ve been dreaming again. Dreaming of him.

Thanatos. With his milky pale skin the color of bleached bones. Bold brush strokes of black ink mark his clothes and paint his hair and his marble eyes. I should feel unsettled when looking into the face of death. But I don’t. I’m the only one who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to see his true face and I don’t know why. He doesn’t understand it either, and it frustrates him to no end.

He’s almost as curious as I am. Almost.

He came to the cabin again today, carrying that black lit candle between his spindly fingers like he believed in the Mother and was prepared to pray and sing to her like the rest of us. He says he likes to hear me during the service, tiny and informal as it is, but really I think he’s here because it irks me, and because I’m some tapestry he can’t seem to unravel.

He asked me again whether I’d call upon the Mother for him. He says he has a question that needs answering, and once he has his answer, he’ll be able to tell me how we can defeat Koschei. If it’s even possible.

But I don’t believe that male for a second. He’d sooner carve the world to bits and devour the scraps before helping us like the coyote he is.

Rest assured I will never agree to his bargain. It will take more than that to turn Bethsevah Mordeigh.

Although he said something strange that night, when the candles had dripped and left their waxy marks on the altar.

“You were made to ruin me, Beth,” he said, “And I will let you do it a thousand—a million—times over.”

He spoke in a dozen different voices, but I can’t deny I liked how the sounds came together and became his own.

You jerked awake with your hand still cradling the book against your chest.

Bethsevah Mordeigh.

You had a name.

You had a name!

You burst out of your room.

“Az! Az! I’ve got something.” You beat your fist against his bedroom door. “Az!” There was silence.

The kitchen was empty, dirty dishes scrubbing themselves clean in the sink. A glance at the clock above the oven told you you’d slept in a great deal.

You took the steps two at a time, sprinting down the hallway towards the west wing. The training arena took up most of the second floor stocked with enough weapons to outfit a small army. Wood and stone knobs stuck out from the wall at extreme angles as part of the climbing gym. The ceiling dipped up and down like draped fabric. On any other day you would have seen Valkyries with rippling arms and backs making their way up to the green flag pinned directly above the room’s center point, bodies straining against the pull of gravity. But not today.

Two of the three mats spaced across the room were occupied and you heard the beat of Illyrian wings before you even opened the double doors.

Feyre and Nesta stood against the side wall bracketed by racks of steel swords, glistening throwing knives, and an Illyrian bow as long as you were tall.

Feyre licked her lips, greedily tracing Rhysand’s powerful form as he went toe to toe with Azriel. You couldn’t help but stare as well as they leapt around the ring in a blur of wings and shadow. You’d never seen Azriel shirtless but… well… it was a sight you could get used to.

It was a dance — a dangerous, deadly dance — and although the language of violence wasn’t one you were familiar with, you could read the display well enough to know that Azriel would win this round.

Sweat glistened on his skin, slipping down the curves of his back where leathery black wings fused with his shoulder blades. Tattoos wrapped around his shoulders and across his chest, pulsing with a life of their own as Azriel cleanly side stepped one of Rhysand’s kicks. There was the faintest crease in the High Lord’s brow to let you know he was getting tired.

But Azriel was just getting started. And now that he knew you were watching? He wanted to make it worth your while.

Rhys gritted his teeth, launching out with a strike quicker than lightning. Someway, somehow, Azriel was faster. He dipped to the side, Rhys’s knuckle just kissing his cheekbones and came up for a counterstrike, slamming his fist so hard into his brother’s cheek that he staggered back.

That was unnecessary. Rhys snapped his jaw back into place.

Azriel grinned. Fatherhood suits you. But I can’t let you get soft.

There was a roll of violet eyes. Sure. That’s why you’re trying so hard right now.

Rhys snatched Azriel’s leg out of the air, rolling onto the ground in a move that sent the Shadowsinger twisting in a graceful arch that had your breath catching in your throat. He broke free of Rhysand’s hold, leaping onto his feet like gravity didn’t apply.

You met his eyes, heady and dark, and could have sworn he winked. But it may have just been a trick of the light.

You ducked your head, hurrying across the room towards Feyre and Nesta and hoping they wouldn’t comment on the flush creeping up your neck.

“Fey—” you began urgently.

The High Lady held up a hand and you fell silent. There was a sheen to her eyes that let you know she was honing in on Rhysand’s moves with more than just her eyes.

Nesta smirked at you as you blushed. You struggled to keep your gaze from drifting back to the powerful display, even as you caught glimpses of Azriel’s tan body out of the corner of your eye. Rippling, bold, strong.

“Don’t worry about staring,” Nesta said with a wicked glimmer. “The boys admire us. We admire them. It’s an even exchange.”

One mat over Cassian was sparing with a new female you’d never seen before. Illyrian, but there was something wrong with her wings. They were held strong and proud above the ground, but they dragged in places where Cassian had control over every minor movement. If you concentrated closely enough, you could make out the thin, shiny scars that had snipped the tendon closest to the apex of her wings, just by the arch of her claws.

Your stomach dropped with horror.

Her wings had been clipped.

She held her own against the Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian might have had the advantage of experience and his longer limbs, but she moved with a daring determination. She dodged every blow by the narrowest margin, conserving her energy so when she was able to slip close and find her opening, she slammed her elbow up and into his nose with a sickening crack that echoed throughout the room.

You winced, hands flying up to your face at the same time that Cassian’s did.

“FUCK!” He roared.

“Whooo! THAT’S MY WIFE!” A gorgeous, curvy blond hung off one of the ring posts, legs propped up on the tensioned ropes.

There was only one member of their family that had ever been described as sunlight incarnate. That had to be Mor. Which meant the striking female currently giving Cassian hell on the mat was Emerie.

Emerie blushed, stealing a heavy look for long enough for Cassian to snap his nose back into place. He ducked down and swept her legs out from beneath her, wrestling her to the ground in a tangle of leather and wings. But Nesta didn’t let him have the advantage for too long.

Cassian choked on the teasing words he’d prepared for Emerie when Nesta sent him a particularly candid image of herself in a strip of black fabric.

For later tonight. She whispered down the bond.

Damn it Nes.

Emerie smashed her forehead into his already swollen nose, then her knee surged up with enough strength to crack ribs. She braced her foot against his chest and flipped him over her head and onto his back, wrapping her powerful legs around his neck and pinning him to the ground with his arm forced back in his socket. Finally he tapped out.

“Poor Illyrian baby,” Nesta crooned as Emerie pulled Cassian to his feet. Despite the blood that dripped from his nose, he was glowing with pride at Emerie. “Better luck next time.”

Mor grasped Emerie by the front of her training gear and yanked her close for a long kiss that left the Illyrian stumbling back with red lipstick smeared over her lips and a dark blush across her caramel cheeks.

Nesta yelped when Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground with one arm like she weighed nothing.

“We could try that move tonight. Your legs, my face? But this time I won’t tap out.” Cassian winked and Nesta leveled a sultry glare in his direction, eyes lingering on the sheen of his muscular chest with unabashed heat.

“Get a room,” Mor called out and Emerie threw a towel in his direction. It landed over his shoulder with comical perfection.

“Says the pair that had to disappear to another continent after their wedding ceremony.”

Mor flung an obscene gesture his way and Cassian returned it with equal fervor. “Says the pair that made Azriel run for the hills when he was left to chaperone.”

“Hey! That’s on Rhysand. He never should have left us with a chaperone at all.” Nesta cut in.

“You rang.” Rhysand appeared sweaty and spent behind Mor’s shoulder and slung his arm around her. The bruises on his cheeks were turning darker by the second.

Azriel hovered on the edges of the crowd, glancing at Mor and then at you. He was mildly disappointed that you’d been too busy watching Cass and Emerie to see him win at the end of the fight.

“Gross, get off of me.” Mor shoved her cousin away.

Rhysand’s shoulders shook with laughter. He smiled at you, eyes gleaming with happiness. It had been so long since he’d last seen his cousin.

“Mor.” He gestured to you, “Meet Y/n—” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I think I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“Halwynn.” You offered up your mother’s last name. Even though you technically didn’t have any right to it as a bastard, it’s the name you’d gone by your whole life.

“Meet Y/n Halwynn,” Rhysand finished.

“The resident intellect,” Mor said, caramel-brown eyes shining. “Well thank the Mother, you showed up when you did.” She looped her arm around yours easily and you caught a whiff of the perfume she’d dotted against her collarbones — amber and vanilla. A ruby the size of your thumb hung from a gold chain, following the dramatic dip in the front of her scarlet dress that left little to the imagination. You thought she might just be the most gorgeous female you’d ever seen.

“We’d be absolutely lost without you. I hope the Library is up to your standards, although let’s be honest, it probably isn’t.”

You agreed a little too quickly.

“Bethsevah Mordeigh.” Rhysand turned the name over in his mind, testing its familiarity and coming up empty. “Any takers?”

You all stood around Rhysand’s desk, the book propped open beside bottles of jet-black ink, eagle-feather pens, and neat stacks of parchment paper.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Fair enough.” He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “We’re only separated by a few thousand years, give or take.”

You paced in front of the windowsill, nervously picking at your fingernails until they were under threat of bleeding. Azriel noticed and one of his shadows gently wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hands apart. You looked at him gratefully and stuck your hands in your pockets.

“The oldest text I’ve seen dates back twelve-thousand years,” Feyre offered. “I’ve also asked Gwyn and Clotho to begin searching.”

“What about the Day Court?” Azriel looked at you.

“I can ask Helion to search the archives. But I’ll warn you, records dating back that far are few and far apart. And priestesses back then were less keen on recording the movements of their members. But we might get lucky with some of her descendants if they ever joined the order. Work our way backwards through history.”

Mor shot Rhysand a look. “Why ask me to come back here now? I could have been of better use searching for this information on the Continent.”

“Now is not the time for you to be traversing foreign lands. Not with Koschei at risk of being let loose.”

You shook your head. “And it wouldn’t matter. Bethsevah wouldn’t have been born on the Continent. If she ever went, it would have only been to trap Koschei. Our best bet is to search for information about her down south.”

The others stared at you in confusion. You blinked as if the answer was obvious. “Organized religion surrounding the Mother emerged in Southern Prythian and her priestesses didn’t spread out to Hybern or the Continent until the Insynthian Age.”

“Your point being?” Nesta folded her arms over her chest. When it came to the specifics of Prythian history, she and Feyre were about as useful as a glass rod in a lightning storm.

“The bit about the candles is a very, very old ceremony. People would write their prayers in blood and have a priestess burn them on a candle made with a strand of their hair woven into the wick. If Bethsevah was a priestess performing this ritual, she would have been an early member of the order. Before the Insynthian Age.”

“That would narrow things down significantly.” Rhysand nodded in approval. “I’ll reach out to Lucien, see if he’ll be able to find anything out for us.”

You pulled a sheef of paper out from your pockets and Helion’s pen. You scribbled down a note to him about what you’d discovered and within five minutes the words were racing south to the Day Court.

“How on earth do you know this?” Mor asked incredulously, looking at you with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

“I’m a Librarian.” She looked unimpressed by that statement. “I had a religious phase.” You smoothed your thumb over your necklace, feeling for your mother’s seal — a flowering heather and fountain pen crossed over in an “x”.

“A religious phase?”

“Yes.”

She clicked her tongue, red lips turning up in a smirk. “You Day Court fae are certainly something.”

You blushed. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.” You went to grab the book, but Mor’s hand slapped down first, pinning it to the table and you with a stare.

“Nope. Work is for tomorrow,” Mor declared, eyes glittering with fondness. “Today, I want to see my city with my family.”

You tapped the book through your robes, counting the rhythmic swings against your hip like a metronome. One. Two. One. Two. One-

Cassian leaned down to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before waving to a male with ash-blonde hair standing beside an apple cart.

Pink ladies, honeycrisps, and ambrosias were piled high into luscious clouds. Two gestures and a flick of a coin through the air later and Cassian was shoving a small, flimsy basket in your hand. Roasted apples covered in burnt sugar and drizzled with caramel seeped into the wax paper.

One. Two. One. Two.

It was still too early for most of the Night Court, but the hustle and bustle in the Palace of Bone and Salt was unperturbed. Now was the time for the owners of small shops to haggle for prices without interfering with common business. The apple cart you just left had a new customer already — a wispy female with candy-floss hair lugging a basket on wheels capable of carrying three bushels for the bakery two streets over.

“Would you like some?” You held the food up to Azriel, but he only stumbled over a crack cobblestone street before shaking his head no.

He was being awfully quiet today. Quieter than usual.

Maybe he’s sick? You thought to yourself. He hadn’t eaten lunch either, but maybe that was just because he disliked the sandwiches you’d made. Or maybe it was because of a certain blond-haired female who kept giving him side glances with questions eating at her from the inside out.

“Come on,” you encouraged, nudging his shoulder. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Azriel looked at the apple slice you held out for him like it was a personal torture.

Cassian grinned and slung his arm over your shoulders, peeling you away from Azriel’s side to his relief. The weight was a comfort coming from him and you felt that thrill in your stomach whenever any member of the Inner Circle touched you.

“Azriel won’t starve. I promise, Y/n.”

Nyx thought he might starve. He was a growing boy, and had a stomach to match. He tapped your elbow and you wordlessly passed over the basket to him, but not before snatching a piece for yourself. The sugar crackled, then melted over your tongue, the sharpness from the apple cutting through caramel in a burst of tartness.

“How is Helion doing by the way?” Mor dropped the question casually. “Rhys says you know him well.”

You blinked at her. What did she care about Helion? “I’ve worked on a few projects for him before this one. And he’s doing as well as he can be, I suppose. Things aren’t exactly perfect in the Day Court right now.”

“Ah, Helion,” Mor breathed out, almost wistfully, “He was one of the few good males I ever slept with.”

You choked on your food, sputtering and coughing for long enough that Cassian started to slap your back. You felt your bones shake with each blow.

So… Mor had slept with your father… figures.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you said meekly. You shoved more food in your mouth before anyone could ask any further questions.

Azriel felt that familiar pool of jealousy bubble in his stomach at the mention of Helion. You kept rubbing that necklace of yours, Helion’s seal displayed prominently like he’d personally stamped you as his.

He allowed himself to get close enough to brush against your shoulder and a few of his shadows creeped onto your body, weaving themselves into your hair. You looked up at him and smiled.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Azriel’s hazel eyes were brighter in the morning light, flecks of green poking through the amber. “You’re smiling.”

And what didn’t you have to be smiling about? You were finally exploring Velaris. Mor, Cassian, and Nyx had touched you, albeit through the fabric of your robes, and you hadn’t been overwhelmed. And you’d finally been able to take knowledge from the book.

It had been a pinch of information as potent as saltwater. You had gotten a name, and names held power.

Azriel’s eyes glimmered with quiet delight.

“I’m just happy,” you said. “I think things are getting better, with—” You glanced down at where your arms swung side by side and you reached out a finger, allowing it to gently brush against the scars at the top of his left hand. You curled your fingers around his for the briefest moment before letting go. “And… you know.” You shrugged.

Azriel stopped walking abruptly and everyone turned to stare at him. The Shadowsinger was strung taughter than an Illyrian bow.

Mor raised her brow in open appraisal. There was a flash of something like shock in her eyes and then she was buried in Emerie’s hair, whispering something into the female’s rounded ears that had her dark carved eyebrows flying up to her hairline.

“Az?” Rhys asked cheekily, “Everything alright?”

Cassian chuckled and even Nesta smirked.

Last year he was giving Elain and Gwyn the bedroom eyes, and now he short-circuits because Y/n brushes her hand against his? I don’t believe what I’m seeing, Cass.

Some females like their males a little pathetic and lovesick.

You would know.

Cassian chuckled, looping his arm around her waist and burying his lips in her hair. He twirled the face framing pieces between his fingers like he always did, and Nesta tried not to think about how she’d first started leaving them out after meeting the Lord of Bloodshed. It would seem she had once been a pathetic and lovesick fool herself.

I love it when you tease, Nes.

Maybe she still was. Nesta couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

They do make a good couple. She admitted and Cassian was in agreement.

Feyre was thinking the same thing as you twisted towards him, hand still outstretched like there was a string tying your fingers to his. You couldn’t help but want to drift towards him as surely as gravity makes rain fall to the earth.

Does she know? Mor grasped Rhysand’s arm, eyes wide and staring. Does she know they’re mates?

Not yet.

Mor groaned. Are you fucking kidding me?

I wish I was.

Damn you, Azriel.

Azriel shook his head and forced his body to move forward. The world had stopped when you touched him, and it was only just starting to pick up again.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Nyx munched on his apple slice, staring at you both curiously before following after his mother and father.

“Did you hear something?” You stayed by his side, no longer interested in the aromas fluttering in the air from the bakery, the soup shop with its stone vats bubbling in the back, the smokehouse with its slabs of bacon crackling on grease. “From your shadows?”

“No. Why did you think that?”

“You had a look in your eye, like you weren’t quite there for a second. My mother used to say that I looked like that sometimes when using my powers. Like for a moment I was untethered from the earth and at risk of floating away.”

Azriel saved that piece of information, storing it away in his mind next to the knowledge that you had always wanted a dustbear for a pet because they were such simple, mindless creatures and you never felt overcome in their presence.

“I do feel that way at times.” He waited until your little troupe passed by the spice shops. The particles in the air always made Cassian sneeze. “But not now.”

Everyone dipped into a paisley blue building, the bell ringing with a soft clang to announce their presence.

“Right now I feel… settled.”

You grinned at him brighter than the sun, moon, and stars combined. “Good.”

You followed after the others, and while your back was turned, Mor took her opportunity. She clawed the back of Azriel’s leathers, hauling him down the alleyway before anyone could notice.

Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise when Mor shoved him up against the wall hard enough for a rain of petals to fall over their heads from the second floor balcony. It would have been romantic if it weren’t for the incredulous look in Mor’s eyes and the fact that Azriel was still caught up in your smile and the feeling of your skin against his. Gods he wished you were the one pressing him against this wall. He couldn’t stop thinking about that hug in Rhysand’s office. He wanted to feel the softness of your body against him once more.

“You idiot!” Mor slapped him across the face and it shocked him back to the present. “Why didn’t you tell me you found your mate?” She hissed.

Azriel looked frantically back to the street, half expecting you to be standing there with your inquisitive eyes. It was still a jolt to his system whenever anyone used that word: mate. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. It was such a fragile word, and the others tossed it around so dangerously.

“I didn’t—” Azriel stammered. Mor and Emerie’s arrival this morning had been unexpected for everyone except Rhysand and Feyre. “There wasn’t time.” “So?! You should’ve made time.” Mor stepped away, letting the Shadowsinger back down onto his feet. He had the good sense to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck while Mor tossed her waist length hair over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink, tanned and freckled from her time on the Continent.

Azriel felt that familiar coil of guilt building in his stomach and he tried to remember the apology he’d been preparing for this exact moment when he and Mor would be alone.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head to the ground in a picture of reverent apology. “Mor, about what I said—”

She crashed into him again, arms looping around his neck and squeezing him so tightly he felt his ribs crack. And she was… laughing?

“You have a mate!” She giggled through happy tears, bouncing on her feet. Her heels clicked against the granite tiles. “My best friend finally has a mate!”

She kept repeating it over and over again, like she couldn’t quite believe it herself.

“Mor, please. Keep it down.” They were attracting attention and Azriel wordlessly summoned his shadows to hide them from view.

Mor finally let him go, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry I just—” She squealed.

Azriel let out a long, heavy sigh. This was closer to the reaction he should have had when Mor and Emerie announced their engagement. Instead he’d gone cold and silent.

He should have known Mor preferred females, and maybe he had known all along that Mor could never love him the way he’d once loved her. But he’d done what he always did when it came to love and ran forward with a blindfold on, hoping his aim was true but never bothering to check.

Mor furrowed her brows. “Are you upset by this? Why do you look like that?”

“What?” Azriel hissed like the question physically hurt him. “No. No! I’m not upset, I’m—” He clenched his fists and said in a small voice, “I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He took a deep breath and winced, “And I’m thinking that you must have felt similarly when you got together with Emerie, and that I royally fucked up by reacting the way that I did.”

He could picture it clear as day — Mor’s radiant smile slipping off her face, left hand dropping behind her back to hide the glittering ruby, the tears that gathered in her eyes when all Azriel did was remain stiff as stone before dropping off the balcony at her engagement party.

Mor hesitated then tucked her honey-gold waves behind her ears like she did whenever she was uncomfortable. “I should have told you sooner.” Azriel knew she was referring to more than just her relationship with Emerie. “I knew you loved me and I let you believe for so long that there might be a chance I could return those feelings. But I was scared because… because I wanted to know there would always be someone waiting for me if…” She pressed her hands over her stomach. The nails may have disappeared from her body without a trace, but they’d been hammered elsewhere in her soul and she hadn’t managed to take them out just yet. “It was wrong of me to use you like that. To keep you waiting for so long.”

Azriel rubbed her shoulders. “I think you gave me more than a few hints that it wouldn’t work out. Chief among them, Cassian.” Mor’s gaze dropped to her feet, but all Azriel did was press a gentle kiss to the crown of her forehead. “I still love you, Mor, and I always will. It’s just a different kind of love now. I’m happy for you and Emerie. Truly.”

“Yeah?” She looked up hopefully.

Azriel nodded. He pulled Mor close, wrapping his wings around her to block out the sounds of bartering happening in the square. They stayed like that for a long while, until the shadows on the wall had dropped another inch.

Mor sniffled and pushed him away. “Ok, enough of this now.” She carefully brushed away at the corner of her eyes, “You’re ruining my makeup.”

Azriel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and Mor noted how it seemed to come easier to him now.

The whole day you’d felt that something was amiss, but it wasn’t until a flustered artisan carrying bolts of spider silk fabric crashed into you that you realized what it was.

You stumbled into Azriel’s sturdy arms, feeling the strength and power beneath his leathers as he propped you up against his side.

“So sorry, miss. Please forgive me.” The artisan blubbered. His cat eyes glowed a pale orange as they flickered over you from head to toe, “Can’t see with this.” He lifted the bolt. There was something about his gaze that unsettled you, like he was searching for something. Like he was hungry. Or scared.

“It’s alright.” You adjusted your clothes, tucked the book behind your back so it was pressed up against Azriel’s hip.

That look in his eyes disappeared and he huffed in relief before continuing down the cobblestone streets, too much in a hurry to notice the Shadowsinger glaring at him.

“Are you ok?” He let you find your footing, keeping his hand at the small of your back.

You stared at the male’s retreating form. “He didn’t… he didn’t bow to you. To any of you.” You blinked at Feyre and Rhysand.

She wore no crown, no jewelry except the ring on her finger and the diamonds in her ears, but the male must have known he was in the presence of his High Lady. And there was no mistaking Rhysand and his brothers.

“Like Azriel said when you first arrived here, we take the casual approach.” Feyre said, and as if to make the point, Nyx shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side in a manner so like Rhys that Azriel and Cassian burst out laughing. Rhys looked down fondly and brushed back his hair.

Feyre drifted to your side, watching with amusement as Nyx disappeared into the forest of color that was the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Every inch of fabric was too precious to be wasted, and so the weavers collected the scraps and tied them together, end to end, until they became one long chain. They hung from the entrances of shops, from the arches criss-crossing overhead, and from hand-painted signs. They wrapped around doorways and caught on the shoulders of passerbys, whispering of the time and effort spent crafting them.

Nyx weaved in and out of these strands, chased by Cassian and Azriel as they pretended to be tricked by the little boy’s lithe footsteps. You gasped as he turned invisible, then reappeared four inches to his left, jabbing at Azriel’s side before disappearing again.

“He can wrap light around himself as much as he can weave darkness,” Feyre explained, staying close to your side, “I think he might have gotten some remnant of the Day Court’s power from me. It made him an absolute nightmare for about three years when he couldn’t control it. Can you imagine having a toddler waddling around and wreaking havoc that you can’t even see?”

Nesta let out a sharp breath of laughter. “I think that’s an experience unique to you, Fey.”

You had to agree. You’d never turned invisible as a child, although you had to admit it would have been a very useful power to inherit from your father.

“Gotcha! You little rascal!” Cassian said triumphantly.

You heard Nyx shriek with laughter. Cassian and Azriel both had one arm raised above their heads and with a little shake the boy came back into view, dangling upside down from his ankles.

“Don’t break the boy, Cass.”

“I won’t break him, Rhys. Gotta let him grow old enough to beat all those bastards at Windhaven, don’t I?”

Rhys and Feyre’s smiles slipped ever so slightly.

Nyx was lowered to the ground. He kept his arms out and balanced on his hands for a brief moment before walking over onto his feet with a flourish.

“Gwyn taught me that last week. She’s part river nymph. Very flexible.” He brushed invisible dirt from his shirt and continued on, leading the way towards the Sidra like he owned the place — which in some respects he did.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

Just another little chapter with more slowburn antics between Y/n and Azriel! And! Mor and Emerie are here! I am slowly but surely collecting characters like pokemon cards because you know I want to have my favorites in Velaris when shit starts to go down...

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel angst #azriel spymaster

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luciferlightbringer · 7 months

Text

Love In a Hopeless Place

Chapter 2

Here we are with chapter 2! Lucifer and reader meet, enjoy! xoxo, Dany :)

Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Updated through Chapter 12 Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader

Word Count:5.2k (I'm so sorry, lol) CW: Trauma, panic, flashbacks, Smut(ish/mostly lead up), angst, comfort, sub/dom dynamics, prostitution, anxiety, depression

Lucifer was in his study working on another one of his many rubber duck creations when his phone started to buzz on the desk with a text message. He jumped a little with a small 'Ah!' at the vibration, and the duck flew out of his hands and into one of the many piles of ducks that filled the room.

"Shit, welp... not finding that one anytime soon", he said running his fingers through his hair while looking out at the sea of ducks, before turning his attention to his phone.

The preview of the text from his driver on the front screen read, "On our way back with our guest." Lucifer stared at the text, and his stomach immediately tightened with... excitement? Anxiety? Was he going to throw up- no he was fine... Right? Yes. No? Fuck. Why did this feel so scary?

Lucifer did not know what he we feeling, he just knew he only had a few minutes before his guest for the evening would arrive... and he had no idea what he was doing. Lucifer started pacing and pulling a little at his own hair, starting to stress and talk to himself.

"Should I have been preparing something? Maybe I should clean! No... wait I have people for that... M-maybe I should pick up some of the ducks? Why would I need to pick up the ducks? Maybe she would want to see the ducks? Lucifer, why would a prostitute want to see your stupid rubber ducks?!" Lucifer said as he paced back and forth on want little open floor space their was in the room, before he stopped, took a breath, and smoothed back his hair and tried to breathe.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm cool. I'm fine." he said as he rolled his shoulders and straightened his bowtie as he walks out of his study and back down the hall to his room. "I'm the King of Hell, and I'm the customer. Who cares? I'm sure girls all over Hell would be dying for the chance to take care of and service me. She is the lucky one here that I even get to grace her presence!" He stopped in front of the mirror in his room, popping on his hat and grabbing his cane before posing in the mirror and flashing a toothy grin at himself.

Lucifer looks over his own reflection in the mirror, and the longer he stared, the more his smile faded and his shoulders slumped. He wrapped his arms around himself in a half self-hug, "So then... why do I feel like... such a loser?"

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The car soon pulls up to a big beautiful manor and parks, the driver gets out and comes to open your door, offering you a hand to help you out.

"Thank you," you say with a sweet and flirty smile as you grab the man's hand and step out of the car. You try hard to hold your confident expression and stifle your surprise as you get out and see your new surroundings, looking around admiring the beauty. Your normal cantor you use with most clients suddenly feels like it might be inappropriate here, so you hold your tongue.

Internally, though, your thought process runs wild, 'Whoa, wait, what the fuck? I've worked for some high rollers before, but this... this feels like its on an entirely different level.... Who the fuck is this guy?'

The driver breaks your slight panic as he gestures for you to follow him. You are escorted up the front steps and into the front entry way past the giant ornate front doors. In the front room off to one side were a few red chairs and a couch with gold trim, all centered around a white marble coffee table. The driver gestures towards the seating, "Please, have a seat while I inform your host that you have arrived."

You curtsy in respond because you were starting to feel like that was the right response for this type of place, and watch as the man turned and started to walk down the hallway. You go to sit on one end of the red couch, damn it was a nice couch, and you start to look at the room around you. You're inner voice continuing with the general track of 'What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? How is this place even bigger and nicer on the inside?!' playing in your head.

Who could this be? This guy is crazy well off, seems to like red, white, and gold, it was everywhere in the decorations. Also he... had good taste in decorations. It looked way nicer here than anywhere else you had ever seen in hell. Not just because of the amount of money in the place, but also because of how the design felt. It almost felt like a slightly edgier version of what you would expect buildings to look like in heaven. Lots of little details and motifs in the crowning on the walls and art around the manor. Lots of stuff like apples, snakes, little things that looked like angel wings-

Your thought process freezes as the puzzles start to fall together into an answer.

Wait.

Apples?

Snakes?!

ANGEL WINGS?!

You start to shake a little and fidget with your dress a little. You may have not been in hell long, but there were some things you pick up on quickly, even in new places. 'There is noooo way. That's impossible. Right? Where were other people who are known for that symbology... right... Who else in hell...? Maybe it's someone you just don't know? Uhhhh.... Oh! Wasn't he married? Well... that doesn't mean anything half of the time, you've fucked married guys. More importantly, if this is who I think it is... what would the LITERAL KING OF HELL, need a call girl for? No, there is no way it could be him, that would be stupid...'

Then, you hear a cane start to tap down the hallway, and time feels like it slows down. You turn to look in the direction of the sound, and down the long manor hallway, you can make out the unmistakable features of Lucifer, the fallen angel, the King of Hell himself, followed by his driver. You feel your skin grow hot and your heart rate pick up as you swallow hard, watching him approach.

He was... much softer looking than you expected. Many of the angelic features were still present, pale near-white skin, golden blonde hair, soft facial features, and they mixed in well with his more demonic features, red and gold eyes, sharp grin, and dark ashy claws that held his signature apple cane. You'd seen his face on magazines and maybe once on tv, but now upon seeing him in the flesh, you realize that pure imagines didn't seen do him any justice.

You realize you have less than a few seconds to calm yourself and get ready to make a first impression. You take a deep breath, let it out, straighten yourself in your seat and think, 'He's just another client, that's all I need to focus on. My goal is to fulfill his wishes'.

As he gets a few feet closer you stand, and curtsy with a confident smile on your face. "Your majesty, what an unexpected surprise this is. Oh, I apologize, I mean... Lance."

Lucifer responds with a hearty chuckle before putting up a hand, "No need for formalities or code names here. Just Lucifer is fine. You must be (y/n)?" he says as he starts to examine the woman in front of him up and down.

You straighten up from your curtsy and place a hand on a slightly popped hip as you look at Lucifer, "I am, and I am honored to be serving you tonight."

The driver comes up and asks for your coat. You slip it off as elegantly as you can, fully aware that your show for Lucifer had already begun, and handed it to the driver. He tells you where he will be when you and the master have concluded your visit for the evening, puts up your coat in a nearby closet, and walks into another room close to the main door, and closes the door behind him.

Lucifer watched the sultry way you slipped off your jacket, and the alluring dress that was revealed from beneath it. Simple, black, sleeveless, a v shaped neck line that showed the perfect amount of cleavage, hugged your body in all the right places, and also allowed for a long slit that showed off plenty of the soft skin of your leg. The woman before him was beautiful, but in a way he didn't expect. Not in a "porn star, big boobs, stereotypical bimbo" kind of way, but in a soft... normal kind of way. It made him feel a little calmer in a way. A couple new emotions started to join the mixture that swirled in his stomach, curiosity, amusement... lust... Nothing had even happened yet, and Lucifer could already start to feel heat start to rise around his collar.

You and Lucifer where now completely alone in the main area of the manor.

You turn back to see Lucifer eyeing you. You smile.

"You like what you see, Lucifer?" you purr as you take a few steps towards him.

Lucifer shifts a little as he stands as his cheeks tint pink, feeling almost guilty for being caught staring, before remembering he was allowed to, "Oh uh... y-yes. Yes, I do." He says, returning to his curated confident grin.

You giggle, stepping closer and offering your right hand to him, which he takes with his right hand, "I am yours for the night to use as you see fit" you say with a sly flirty smile.

'Fuck, I hope this is coming off ok', you think to yourself.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' Lucifer thinks, trying to will his cheeks into not turning a darker shade of pink, 'Oh she is VERY good, and I am very out of practice.'

Lucifer returns the sly smile, "Oh I intend to." he says looking you up and down again as he kisses your hand.

'Fuck, he is good', you think at the same time.

Lucifer continues to hold your hand as he turns in closer to your right side, looping your hand under his left arm so that you and now holding it, and he looks at you with a "Shall we then?" before he starts to escort you further into the manor.

As you start to walk through the manor with Lucifer, this is when you really notice how he was a bit shorter than you expected, especially with the heels you were wearing. Nothing wrong with that, just not something you expected. He was a cutie, and you were excited that you were going to be able to help make him feel good that night. Honored even.

Lucifer felt transfixed by every inch of sensory that came from being in contact with you, the way your hand held onto the sleeve of his jacket, the way you would shift against him as you walked, the smell of your perfume, it was borderline intoxicating. His brain was running a million miles a minute between your touch, smell, what he would say next, what would happen when you both got to his room, how he wanted to keep himself from turning into the room and immediately pouncing on you. He felt like he might lose his mind.

All you could see of Lucifer was a sly grin and a confident walk towards his room.

The two of you entered Lucifer's large bedroom and you let go of his arm so that he could go to close the door behind you. He put down his cane, and started to undo the clasps of his suit jacket. You walked up behind Lucifer as he finished the clasps, slid your hands over his shoulders, hooking your fingers under the collar.

"May I?" you cooed softly in his ear.

He gulped and nodded as you glided it off his shoulders and down his arms, trying as best you can you make sure your fingers made contact with his arms as much as possible.

Lucifer had to fight a soft moan from escaping his throat at your touch. You deviously smiled to yourself behind Lucifer at the sound of his stifled moan as you took the jacket and carefully hung the jacket off the side of his mirror. You turned back around to see Lucifer taking off his hat and setting it down on a nearby surface, trying hard tame the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, a visible bulge starting to form in his pants.

Seeing the King of Hell's eyes hunger for you gave you a devious idea to try. 'I wonder what role he likes to play?' you think to yourself.

You chuckle, and start to walk a circle around Lucifer, eyeing him back as if he was your prey, which makes Lucifer swallow hard again and make him lose a little of his edge, less of a dominant energy and leaning more submissive as he watched you circle him.

'Interesting', you think.

"Tell me. Do you prefer to lead, or follow?" you ask with a coy smile.

Lucifer thought for a moment, what did he usually do with Lili- errr... in the past? He liked not having to think. Not having to lead would be really fucking nice actually.

"Follow", Lucifer said in a soft tone. This didn't surprise you, most powerful men wanted a break from it in the bedroom, from your experience. Getting to order Lucifer around was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it got you excited just thinking about it.

You gave Lucifer a wicked smile before slinking up to him, softly grabbing his chin, getting your face very close to his before whispering, "Boots off. On the bed. Now."

Lucifer's heart beat started to pound in his ears as he took a moment as he processed the words, a shiver of pleasure jolting through his body, before quickly moving to throw off his boots and crawl onto his bed. He knew nothing in the moment beyond following your command. Lucifer got into place and then looked over at you, waiting for your next order for him.

'Fuck that was hot' he thought as he felt the heat spread across his chest.

You look towards Lucifer, turning you body to face him in his new position on the bed. You smirk and start to slowly slink towards him, making sure to roll your hips with every step to emphasize your curves, staring at him with your own hunger eyes.

Lucifer sat, transfixed by the way your hips swayed from side to side, the way your eyes felt like they were burning into his soul, his cheeks burning read. No thoughts existed in his head at that moment besides the thought of your curves coming towards him and the way that his cock throbbed for you in his pants.

You sat yourself on the end of his bed and kicked up your right leg over the other to unbuckle the clasp on one of your heels, making sure to position yourself so that Lucifer could see more of your leg through the slit in your dress and so that you cleavage showed more prominently from the V-neckline. You look up at him through your eyelashes to see him tremble a little, his breathing starting to labor. Oh lord, you could see just how much he needed this, and that excited you even more.

You finished unclipping your heel and you let it drop to the floor with a light clatter. You straightened up and looked over your shoulder at Lucifer, "Does my good boy want to help me with my other shoe?"

Lucifer gave a little whimper and bit his lip a little as he gave you an enthusiastic nod. He was so cute and desperate, if his tail was out it would probably be wagging.

You move a little closer and kicked your left leg up onto his lap and propped yourself up to watch his work, giving him a quick cheeky look of 'Well? Get to it!'

Lucifer took a few moments to look at the red heel that was connected to the gorgeous leg that now sat in his lap. Lucifer took a breath, and then with trembling hands worked to try undoing the clasp of the shoe. It took a little longer than it took you, but he eventually got the clasp undone and let the shoe slide off the bed to the ground. Lucifer took the opportunity to slowly slide one of his hands up your leg, up to the hem of your dress, and back down in admiration. Holy hell, her skin was so soft and beautiful.

You closed your eyes and hummed softly as you soaked in the sensation of his touch on your skin, "What a good boy you are, Lucifer." You cooed, removing your leg away from his reach. He looked sad for a moment, but it would not be for long. You hooked a leg over his body and got up onto the bed, now straddling his thighs.

A surprised breathy moan escaped Lucifer's lips as you moved onto his lap and he started to dig his claws into his sheets on either side of his body.

You chuckle again before you look down at him from your new position. You had never felt more power than you did right at that moment, and it was beautiful. Seeing the King of Hell under you, desperate for your next command or touch... now that was dangerous.

As Lucifer laid under you, defenseless and breathing heavily, he released his claws from the sheets and lightly picked up the edge of the skirt of your dress on either side of you and held them softly in his hands.

"M-may I?" he asked with pleading eyes, lifting the skirt up a little to show his intensions to remove your dress.

You cross your arms and put a finger up to your cheek in an action pretending to think about, making Lucifer wait.

"P-please?" he said after several seconds, sense of urgency in his voice.

You dropped the act and smirked down at him with a pleased smile and nodded. Lucifer excitedly, but carefully worked to pull the dress off of you and tossed it onto the ground to join your shoes. Lucifer now looked at you and you saw his eyes turn from soft desperation back into a deep animalistic hunger as they raked lustfully down the new view of your body.

You sat proud of yourself as you sat straddled across Lucifer's thighs wearing a deep sapphire blue lacy bra and a matching blue thong that, frankly, served no purpose other than to be something to be ripped off of you.

Lucifer softly ran his claws up your thighs, up your hips, across your abdomen, over your breasts, up your collar bone, other your shoulders, down your arms, and down you your hands, taking in every inch of your body that he could see in that moment. You tip your head back and allow long moan to escape you as his hands glide across your body, soft but electric and hot.

You tip your head back down to look at Lucifer, his hands in yours. You release his hands and start to slide you hands up his chest to his bowtie.

"Alright, baby, your turn," you coo, starting to undo his bowtie. Lucifer began to shake and breath heavily under your touch. You toss the bowtie to the ground, slowly undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, exposing his soft pale neck. You nuzzle your face into his neck and plant your first soft kiss on his neck.

Lucifer responds to the contact with a deep and long moan, he almost couldn't take any more of this torturous, slow teasing. And yet he also felt like he couldn't get enough of it. He felt energetic and alive for the first time in what felt like forever, it was pure bliss. He never wanted it to stop.

You giggle again at his response, and continue to unbutton the remaining buttons down his shirt. You lean down to look into Lucifer's eyes and say "Now Lucifer, I want you to tell me something."

He looks up at you with shiny, lust filled eyes, "Yes?"

"Tell me... what is it that you truly desire?" you say with a smirk, as you continue work on his buttons.

Lucifer thinks for a few seconds, thinking about all of the sexy, blissful ideas he wants to tell you and then... for some reason... he turns his head to the side of his bed... her side of the bed... all of the sound goes quiet, the room starts to go blurry, everything starts to shake, and then...

It all goes dark.

____________________________________________________________

He no longer feels like he is in his bedroom, its just him... and Lilith... looking at him with her bright smile, before the smile fades, and she turns to walk away into the darkness. Then it's Charlie... happily giggling on his lap, small, clapping at his stories, before Lilith picks her up off his lap and walks out of the room with her. It's his old workshop in heaven full of his wonderful dreams and creations, now a dark red room full of endless piles of ducks. It's giving the apple to Eve, then standing in an arena of the Heavenly Council, and then the deep long fall into hell, watching his hands pale hands turn to claws, watching the white feathers of his transform to turn a deep crimson, his halo shatter into space and long red horns grow in its place on his head before he crashes to the surface of a newly created Hell.

What does he desire? What does he TRULY DESIRE?! He wants back everything he has ever lost! He wants to know why everyone has cast him away and abandon him. He wants to know why everyone had to think his dreams were so fucking dangerous. He wants to remember what it was like to not hate himself so much!

Lucifer pulled at his hair and screamed into the void of his mind as he fell to his knees and cried.

______________________________________________________________

From your perspective, you ask your question, Lucifer's eyes go from full of life and lust to empty, his head tips to the side, and they start to fill with panic as he start to hyperventilate.

You drop your current persona and start to assess the situation. You quickly move off of Lucifer and go to his side instead.

"Lucifer?" No response. "Lucifer? Talk to me, what do you need?"

Something in your voice makes Lucifer snap back from his dissociative nightmare land, but he continues to hyperventilate.

'Fuck! Think! Didn't you learn something about this on earth? '

You think for a minute, shaking your hands as you look around the room, at him, trying to think. You softly take his hand and start gently rubbing the back of it with your thumb. Lucifer snaps to look at you, so quickly, it almost startles you.

"Hey," you say with the calmest and warmest smile you can muster, "I'm here, you are ok. You are safe here with me." Lucifer continues to look at you with panic in his eyes, but with recognition there too.

"I'm a friend, you are at your house, in your bed... in... hell. Uhh... you are in the Pride ring... Nothing is going to hurt you here, you are safe," you continue to say as you continue to rub the back of his had. If you had said half of that sentence back on Earth, it would have probably made things worse, but here... hopefully it would be more grounding.

Slowly, Lucifer breathing slows its pace and he looks around the room more. You look around the room and see a cup on a nearby table.

After waiting a few more minute, you ask, "Do you want any water?" Lucifer thinks for a briefly about your question, and nods his head.

You squeeze his hand and say "I will be right back." You set down his hand, go to grab the cup, and run to the bathroom to fill it with water. You come back to Lucifer's side and give him the cup, Lucifer slowly starts to drink some water as his breathing continues to slow down to a normal rate.

After a few more minutes, he shakes his head.

"Hey," he says in a defeated tone.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you say in a gentle voice, giving him your full and concerned attention.

He sighs, "Not great..." He was so scared, sad, angry, disappointed, full of guilt, shame.

You tip your head down in shame, "I... I'm so sorry." Lucifer looks over at you with a confused look. "I was reckless and I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me, your Highness?" Now it was you that was starting to shake a little.

Lucifer sighs, the guilt coming to the front the most out of all his current emotions. How could he explain to you just how wrong you were? But he could understand why you would think that. In his current state, he could only partly process how differently you now tended to him, how you looked at him. Almost like, you cared? That you were worried about him?

He gently put a hand on your head "Please, Lucifer is still fine, and this was not your fault, it.... it's complicated. I... thought I was ready for something like this, I was hoping I was. A small baby-step to moving forward, but no..." Lucifer tightened his left hand. "I'm not"

You looked up and his tightened hand, and for to first time noticed the gold band on his ring finger. This was not the anger and sadness of a happily married man, or even an unhappily married man, this was something... much more complicated.

You sat with Lucifer in mournful silence for what felt little forever, but it was probably not more than a few minutes.

Eventually, Lucifer sighed and broke the silence, "You should go..."

You looked up at Lucifer, whose head still hung in shame, his hand gripped tightly.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly.

Lucifer shrugged, "I'm not going to be much fun now, I don't think I'm cut out for this. Not yet anyway. Its me not you, trust me. You were amazing... it was fun while it lasted" He looked up at you with a weak smile, "You should try to enjoy the rest of your night while you can. No use letting and old sod like ruin your night."

You look down at your dress and shoes still on the floor, you sigh, pick up your dress and put it back on. You pick up your shoes and start to head to the door. You put your hand on the doorknob, prepared to open it, wish the King goodbye, and walk away... but you don't. You stand there for a second.. thinking.

Lucifer noticed you pause, and looks up at you. You turn back to meet his gaze, his face decorated in a look of half confusion, half sadness.

"May I offer one last thought?" you ask with calm confidence.

Lucifer tips his head in curiosity, "What is it?"

You take a couple step back towards him, "I wonder... I think... you had the right idea with searching for intimacy, connection, but maybe we started in the wrong direction."

Lucifer cocks an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look, "I'm... not sure I follow."

You search again for the right words, "I mean like... uhhh... well... ok, when was the last time you just got a hug, not like a quick one, like one that made you feel cared about?"

Lucifer's body stiffened, then looked down and curled his legs close to his body, "It... its been... a long time."

You smile, and take another step towards Lucifer, and you open up your arms to him with a soft smile.

Lucifer looked up at you and perked up for a minute. Was she serious? Why did she continue to try? Why didn't she leave him to his own misery? She didn't need to care about his feelings right now... and yet... she did.

Lucifer slowly started to slide out of his bed, shirt still most of the way unbuttoned, hair all a mess, and started to walk over to you. When there was only a few feet left between the two of you, Lucifer paused, and then practically ran the rest of the way into your arms and wrapped himself around your waist, as you return the embrace.

You stand there, hugging him for a minute, 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, and after the first few minutes, you feel Lucifer start to shake in your arms as he started to cry. Lucifer tightened his embrace around you the harder he cried, burying his face in your shoulder. At one point he tries to wail out an apology, but you just shush him and let him continue to cry as you rubbed his back.

After about a half hour of him crying in your embrace, you ask him if he wants to continue standing there or if he wants to sit down. In response, Lucifer releases his arms from you waist and reaches up to wrap his arms around you neck instead. You adjust and decide to just go for it and pick him up, carrying him over to his bed. You sit in his bed with him hugging you around your neck as you hold him in your lap.

Lucifer could not stop the tears that flowed from his face, he didn't remember the last time he had cried this much, cried this hard. And for some reason, in your arms, he didn't care. The tears felt good. Liberating.

You don't know how much time passes, but slowly his crying starts to get quieter and quieter, turning to sniffles, until you realize that the King of Hell had just fallen asleep in your arms.

You carefully move to get up at set him down in his bed without waking him up, and you tuck him into his bed. Before you leave the room, you quickly find a piece of paper and pen, and write out a quick note. You leave the note on his side table before grabbing your shoes, turning off the light, and giving him one last look before closing the door.

You make your way back down the long manor hallway, back to where the driver said he would be, and you let him know your visit was over. You grab your coat, put on your shoes, took one last look at the beautiful inside of the manor, and walked out to the car with the driver.

Who knows if you would be back here again, but it sure was interesting while it lasted.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3 is in the works! Let me know if you want added to a tag list <3

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n

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ronearoundblindly · 1 month

Note

okey dokey, I've had *a day* and will use this glorious...🥴 idek which body part to reference 😮‍💨...and merge it with your previous ask about cooking or baking for Steve and giving him a nice, comforting, home cooked meal. And his response to that act of service and caring. Because this is me, I will obviously be starting with ::gasp:: an argument. Don't you love how predictable I am?!?!

To Tire Is Human

No warnings, uhhh, canon language (sh*t)? Written in drafts so no exact word count. It's not long (2k maybe, very much unedited)!

"The hustle? What does that even mean?" Steve gripes as he finishes up various chores around the property.

"It means I do the work."

Your boyfriend rips apart the wood log he was about to start chopping. "Do the work? Do the work? For nine hours? After leaving home early enough to be at work for an hour before the actual work starts? Then staying at least a half hour to clean?"

"Unless I also have to restock," you add quickly just to really turn the knife.

"You have got to be shitting me," he nearly snarls, eyes down toward the pile.

You don't blame him for not understanding. He's from an era where people worked to live, the point was the living. This...is not longer that era, and you are not of that generation.

Of course, it frustrates him, too, because your work makes living almost impossible. With all that he just mentioned, the commute, and attempting to offer yourself the basic self-care of eating and washing, you don't have the energy to do chores, and you've certainly struggled to find energy enough to show Steve love.

"That's the gig nowadays. That's how us super-average humans do it."

The thing is that you are also so tired of having this conversation. You are tired of the guilt for not magically considering yourself the center of your universe because, despite jokes about every kid receiving participation trophies, it is deeply engrained in you that you are replaceable.

If you don't perform above and beyond, fired. If you ask for too much and offer too little, gone. If you don't constantly learn how to outpace others, useless. It never ends.

And, finally, Steve Rogers might not get this but you age. You aren't powerful to begin with, but day after day, you get weaker and older, while someone else on Earth gets smarter and stronger.

You don't want to hear the spiel. You can see from his pinched face that Steve wants to give the spiel.

You sigh in exhaustion and prepare to hear the whole Cap speech before you two go pick up dinner in town.

One day later that week, your work schedule falls apart and lands you back at home hours before Steve is due to return. Antsy to accomplish something--and looking for a snack,--you notice the perfect combination of ingredients, something saucy and salty, hearty, just like Steve melts for, and a fruity baked good.

It's a lot of steps, there's a lot of mess to clean up as you go, and then there's still a lot left behind. You're hastily rushing around to set the oven timer and yank a skillet off the burner. Perhaps the whole endeavor has gotten you in over your head.

Steve appears out of nowhere.

Well. Not nowhere, but all the chaos in the kitchen is making enough noise, you didn't hear the door.

"I have everything under control," you automatically say.

His expression morphs from one of surprise and concern to utterly overwhelmed. His eyes look glassy as he approaches and scoops you into a quick hug, hands tucking themselves beneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin as he breathes you in.

He quickly releases you at the sounds of oil popping and sniffs, reverting to Cap mode.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

All you can think is that the table hasn't been set.

Steve eats his whole meal--entree and dessert--with his non-dominant hand just so he can hold yours.

He had one of your days.

He spent the drive home listing all the things he needed to do in his head, more energy for each tick, more time for sitting still, more of him to give...

...and then he got to enjoy a lovely dinner with you.

You spent your energy on him, on you both. You spent energy specifically to spend time with him, and Steve could cry but he won't. He keeps smiling, making happy, pleased noises with each delicious bite.

An hour ago, he wasn't sure he could feed himself or wash up. He's simply too tired.

You start playing with his hand, drawing patterns in his palm, lightly dragging your nails on the sensitive inside of his wrist. It makes him shiver.

There were at least four things he was supposed to do outside before it got too dark, a load of towels and sheets needs done, a basket of clothes waits to be folded and put away. He does not want to do any of it.

His fingers close around yours.

"Thank you," he interjects softly, "I was so tired."

You lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, whispering in his ear, "you wanna leave the dishes to soak and watch a movie instead?"

Steve chuckles, turns his head to quickly kiss your lips, and nuzzles his nose to yours.

"Oh, you're a naughty minx, aren't you?"

Playfully racing up the stairs, ignoring the plates and glasses still on the table, you call back to him.

"Show some hustle, big guy! We got a whole lot of nothing to do."

He twitches, just for an instant, before finally deciding that grabbing the spare pillows from the guest room will add more to the movie experience than doing the dishes.

You're both going to do the work tonight: the work of taking care of each other, enjoying each other, and being human together.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #we're all just tryna survive on a bit of kindness #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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readychilledwine · 1 year

Text

Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar

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michibap · 2 months

Text

okay guys beach fic w/ ted or lake fic w/ schlatt

pick fast bc we're going NEOW

(u can read both im joking)

Schlatt:

-schlatt is well aware of the fact your family owns a lake house

-he's heard countless childhood stories that were set there

-he's seen hundreds of photos that were taken there

-and at each of your family gatherings that he's attended, your cousins are eagerly asking him when he's finally pulling up

-and now that he finally is?

-he thinks he's gonna vom

-showing face at weddings and barbecues is one thing, but a whole weekend in the same house as literally *all* of your family has him a little queasy

-that, and the fact that he hasn't had service for last forty minutes of the ride

-and he's left with nothing to do but look out the window at the dirt road and the lush north eastern forest

-listening to the old red hot chili peppers cds you put on after both your of your phones lost connection and the radio stopped connecting to any channels

-the man's not even in his own car for fucks sake

-you'd told him that you'd rather take the old beater you refuse to get rid of, not wanting to fuck up whatever expensive vehicle he was driving around back home

-and it seems like you were right to make that decision, it becoming especially clear after you splash through one last muddy puddle before turning onto a barely visible, unpaved road

-"We're here!" you announced excitedly, reaching across the center console to grab his knee and shake it

-he sits up in his seat, looking around

-taking in the hand painted signs that read:

"PRIVATE PROPERTY: DO NOT ENTER"

"NO TRESSPASSING: Violators will be shot, Survivors will be shot again"

-you either don't notice his anxiety, or ignore it

-and drive a bit farther up to a clearing where the house is

-a little old and decrepit, but it has a "well loved" charm to it

-and the thirteen other cars parked outside of it do a pretty good job at quelling his anxieties about being axe murdered in the middle of the woods

-once you pull up close enough to the house, you park the car, and schlatt goes to get out

-but pauses half way out of the car when grin and honk your horn a couple of times, and he gives you a bewildered look

-after a moment of dramatic silence

-he sees at least twenty people

-all of whom look almost eerily like you, but in different fonts

-they pile out of the house and onto the front deck, all looking around and muttering to each other before spotting the two of you, and rushing to your car

-schlatt panics a bit at the sight of all of those people stampeding towards the car, and looks over to you to see what the fuck is going on

-but you're already out of the car, arms held open with a huge smile as your family comes barreling towards you

-your boyfriend watches (almost in horror??) as you're tackled to the ground by three full sized adults, and more continue to gather around the car

-some come tap on the passenger window to greet him, others wave at him through your open door

-and it's madness as you're pulled off of the ground by one of your uncles, along with a flurry of hands reaching out to you to pull you off the ground

-in the midst of all of this, you feel familiar cold, dewey metal pushed into the palm of your hand

-schlatt watches in awe as you shotgun a twea, moments after you stepping out of the car

-your cousins wildly cheering you on

-some of the drink spilling down the sides of your face and down your arm when the can is pulled away from you by one of your cousins, who makes a show of crushing it

-you finally catch a glimpse of your bf getting out of the car in the midst of the madness, and he's already looking at you, laughing and shaking his head

-before a can is shoved into his hand too

-after the initial madness of your arrival, the two of you unpack your bags and he finds out that you're sharing this bedroom with at least four other people,

"It depends on who else decides to show up" your relative explained with a shrug, "It's gonna get real crowded in here real soon, so you two enjoy some alone time while it lasts" she finished, wiggling his eyebrows with a vaguely familiar grin before leaving, slamming the door behind her

-once you're sure the two of you are alone, schlatt flops on the air mattress you two are claiming for the weekend, exhausted from the ride and a little over stimulated

-he feels your weight dip the mattress down next to him, before feeling your hand run up and down his back a few times

-he lets out a content hum at the sensation, deflating a bit at your touch

"You okay?" you ask softly

"hrmf."

-turns to see you looking down at him, genuinely concerned and he rolled over onto his back in a sigh

"'m all good doll, just needed a few", he reassures, reaching out to pet your hair, which you lean into for a moment before plopping down next to him, allowing him to wrap an arm around you to drag you closer

-you quietly laugh as he hides his face in the crook of ur neck, facial hair tickling the skin there that he knows is sensitive, feeling as the tension slowly leaves his body

"Good, because we've got everyone waiting for us outside."

-after a few more minutes, the two of you change into ur swim suits before going to meet the rest of your family

-stepping onto the back porch and being met with the view of the lake, teeming with life as other lake-goers enjoy it, either swimming, kayaking, boating, or anything else of the sort

-and your family is mingling in the back yard, standing in small groups chatting, playing outdoor games, swimming, drinking and grilling

-before the two of you have the chance to discuss the course of action, a small herd of children comes and kidnaps you, dragging you to the lake in a flurry of small hands and high pitched giggles

-you only send him an apologetic look over your shoulder as you allow yourself to be dragged off

-before he gets the chance to follow, your father calls him over to the grill where him and a few other men are standing around, beers in hand

-all of them looking over at him expectantly

-GULP

-luckily he has man-talk down to a science, only having to answer a few questions about work and such before it was acceptable for his input on the conversation to be a correctly timed grunt

-he passes time by watching you down by the water

-you're about shin deep, fighting for your life

-you're holding off one kid who was trying to swing on you with a hand to his forehead, your other hand occupied with another child that you're dangling over the water by his ankle

-two other children have wrapped themselves around each of your legs, keeping you from making it very far out of the water

-you must feel his eyes on you, because somehow when you look up, you almost immediately meet his gaze

-and shove the hitting child's head away just enough to send him tumbling back into the water before using your newly freed hand to wave him over

-schlatt politely excusing himself from the conversation he wasn't really participating in to go to you

-walking diligently enough to not get caught in another conversation on his way

-finally making it down to the shoreline, excited to finally be back by your side

-but completely forgetting about the children you were with, his face dropping as all of the children who were previously pestering you now flood towards him

-there are little hands rubbing over his facial hair like this was some kind of petting zoo, and he's being barraged with questions

"You're her boyfriend?"

"Why?"

"Do you guys kiss?"

"What's a zucchini?"

"Have you ever held hands?

"My mommy asked when you guys are having a baby"

-he yelps when a little hand pulls at his leg hair

"Why are you so hairy?"

-wants to tell them to scram, but they're all objectively adorable children

-each of them looking a little bit like you, whether it be the hair, eyes, nose, or troublesome giggle

-and maybe this is a glimpse into his future, but he can't say no to those little faces

-so he looks to you for help

-you're watching from off to the side, hands resting on your hips and looking very entertained

-before u tell them to scram lol

-the two of you swimming out to the swimming platform/dock your grandfather had built years back

-having to help pull him up onto it because he doesn't understand the Technique

-the two out you laying out there for a while, basking in the sun like turtles on a log

-he wants you to have a tanline in the shape of his hand on your ass SO BAD

-but you're like "stop i'm tanning"

-so ofc he takes it as a challenge

-turns into him just trying to get his hands on you while you try to get away, laughing

-and it's cute, until you end up accidentally rolling off of the platform into the water

-and he's laughing too hard to keep a proper center of gravity as he tries to haul you back onto the dock, and ends up falling right back in beside u

-when he comes back up to the surface, you're still laughing so hard you're struggling to tread water

-so he swims over and allows you to latch onto him, floating as the two of you catch your breath, eventually relaxing into one another as you float in the refreshing (kind of brown) water

-he shifts a little when he feels you pull away

-tries to play off the way his breath hitches when he sees you looking down at him with a fond smile, bringing a hand up to push the hair out of his face

-watching intently as your lips part like you're about to say something

-before the two of you are being called back to the shore for dinner

-his eyes dart from the shore to you, and he watches as your smile shifts from fond to evil

-and the next thing he knows, he's being plunged under water again as you essentially use him to kick off to shore

-you're laughing to yourself as you swim, thinking you've put some good distance between yourself and schlatt

-until you feel a large hand wrap around your ankle, pulling you under

-getting dried off and changing before joining the rest of your family for dinner

-a variety of foods cooked on the grill throughout the day, and schlatt sees a couple of the mayo based salads he's heard you and a few of your cousins complain about, so he steers clear

-having to sit at the kid's table with the rest of your young adult children, along with the actual children

-but all of the older cousins have fun juice in their cups (which they are very careful to keep away from the littles)

-and something about all of you sitting in mini adirondack chairs and the paw patrol table cover is making everything 100x funnier

-Schlatt grinning and laughing and asking questions as your cousins tell him embarrassing stories from when you were younger

-eventually the gathering moves outdoors, the family spreading around, sitting around a fire and making s'mores as they reminisce, telling old family stories and sharing family memories

-and in the middle of your uncle telling the story about how he kicked over a porta-potty with your father still in it, he glances down at you

-safely tucked under his arm, nestled into his side, wearing one of his sweatshirts

-you're sunkissed and tipsy, surrounded by loved ones

-and he decides that he wouldn't decide summers looking like this from now on

Ted:

-literally fuckign NEED him as my coastal bf

-nd he would be so into it too

-i know this man takes a beach day SERIOUS

-packs the tacoma the night before

-so in the morning when he wakes up at the asscrack of dawn he can wake you up with sweet little kisses, dodging your weak attempts to bat him away as you whine about it being early

-he's already fully dressed, hawaiian shirt fully buttoned, sandles buckled, fanny pack ON

-cooing at u all condescending and sweet when you finally get out of bed, your face still all puffy and cute with sleep and he can't help but reach out and pinch one of ur cheeks

-melting a just little when instead of swatting him away with a grumble you just tilt forward and squish your face into his chest with a tired sigh

-he wraps his arms around u with a firm squeeze and presses a few kisses to the crown of your head before gently leading you to the bathroom to continue getting ready,

"I know, baby, we just *have* to beat the beach traffic"

-standing behind you in your small bathroom and running a brush thru your hair for you as you brush your teeth, explaining his well thought out itinerary even though he knows his words are going in one ear and right out the other

-by the the time the two of you finally make it out to the car, the sun is nearly fully risen, shining bright as the last of the colorful sunrise fades away

-you're still a little fuzzy in the passenger seat, donning a swim suit and a cute cover-up

-jumping a little when he finally slams the driver's door shut after climbing into the car with you

-he settles in, checking his mirror, running through the list of all of the things be had packed one last time before looking over at you

-curled up in his passenger seat, blinking slowly up at him with a sleepy lil smile

-he grins and leans in to give u one last smooch b4 you're off

-stopping for coffee and pastries and it literally breathes the life back into you

-perf! bc now that you're fully conscious it's now your job to feed ted bites of whatever ridiculous sweet treat he'd decided to try this morning

-chaos ensues when you hold up his donut for him to bite into and jam spurts out onto you and the windshield, both of you shouting and the truck swerves

-having to pull over to clean up, and while he's wiping the sticky jam off of the windshield he glances over to u as you lick it off of ur fingers

-and he shifts in his seat

-and looks at the clock then back at you

-you raise your brows a bit, pulling your now clean finger out from between ur lips with a pop

-realizes he's staring when your brows pull together a bit, confused

"What?" you laugh

-and he whips his head away, staring off out the window as he grips the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles start to go white

-his jaw ticks when he hears u scoff a little and mumble something about him being a freak

-and the little angel on his shoulder is whispering in his ear about the beach traffic

-reminding him of how he literally timed it perfectly so that you could get to the water without hitting any traffic, and get a good spot before everyone else shows up

-his eyes dart back to you, where you've now turned your entire body in your seat to face him and you've got your head cocked to the side all pretty as you give him an inquisitive look

-his grip on the wheel only goes tighter

-we MUST stay focused brothers

...

-you two are still sitting in traffic an hour later, looking significantly more disheveled than you did leaving the house

-but you're both laughing as you move around in the front seat, trying to capture ted's best angle and dodge him as he tries to take the polaroid out of your hands, scolding you about wasting film

-when you finally make it to the beach, you have to park a good distance away bc you failed to beat the crowd

-and ted is beating himself up bc he had worked so hard on this plan and it was gonna be perfect for you but now you both have to carry all this shit to and from the car and-

-when he finally pulls himself out of the spiral he sees you skipping ahead of him, idly swinging the bag by your side as you admire the vintage ocean cottages and their expensive landscaping

-laughing a little when you chase after a seagull

-you two finally reach the beach and ted has to physically stop you from tearing off your coverup and running to the water, reminding you of sunscreen and the need to set up

-rushing to help him layout your blanket (meeting his eyes and laughing when you both spot what was probably a nut stain), before he gets to setting up the umbrella while you unfold the camping chairs you had brought

-when everything is finally settled, ted sees you sitting on the blanket in your bathing suit, staring at the ocean

-and finally,

-FInalLY

-he asks if u wanna swim

-you don't even stick around long enough to hear the way he laughs when you dart off to the water

-shakes his head before pulling off his shirt and taking off his glasses and runs after you

-him taking significantly less time to acclimate to the cold than you do, accustomed to frigid atlantic temperatures

-so he quickly catches up to where you were wading in

-you yelp when you feel two strong arms wrap around you from behind, panicking for a moment before realizing who it was

-and then panicking again

-Ted laughs when you look up over your shoulder at him and he gets to see how wide your eyes go

"Wait- pleasepleaseplease-" You beg, frantically looking for something to grab onto, but with how tight he's got you wrapped up you can't even turn in his arms and attempt to climb him

-your scream being cut off when he dunks both of you under the water

-you resurface with a gasp, still clinging to ted as he laughs, so you slap his chest and push away from him, grumbling something about being an asshole

-but after no more than about .7 seconds you're swimming back to him and playing in the waves

-him trying to body surf while you dive under

-throwing seaweed at him

-shrieking and trying to climb up to his shoulders when you feel sth touch your foot

-only realizing after about an hour that neither of you ended up putting sunscreen on

-the journey back to the blanket becomes a race, which ted wins

-but only because as you were exiting the water, he body checked u hard enough to send you stumbling into the path of a boogie boarding child

-arguing with you about sunbathing while you wait to dry so u can apply sunscreen

-he tries to drag you into the shade of the umbrella with him, but you put up enough of a fight to risk getting sand all over the blanket, so he lets you win

-makes u spray him down first and help him rub it in

-you better take this shit seriously

-he is white as a ghost and WILL burn

-your turn goes smoothly until its time to rub it in

-and you start obnoxiously moaning while massages the spf into your skin, just to fuck with him

-and he goes BRIGHT red, hissing at u to stop thru gritted teeth

"There are *children* here" he scolded, anxiously looking around and finding nobody paying the two of you any mind

you shrug, turning your head to the side and look up at him from where you're lounging

"And *none* of them are ours" you shoot back, rolling your eyes

-watches u sunbathe from his spot in the shade before he gets bored again, and you guys decide to go tide pooling and take some more pics for the gram

-manages to get a few nice pictures of you posed on the rocks or splashing in the water before you get too distracted

-then most of them morph into you and the little creatures you find

-but ted doesn't mind, because when he's looking back he'll realize the best pic he got from today was of you smiling up at him, eagerly showing off the itty bitty tiny baby crab you have cradled in your hands

-once it starts to cool down a bit, you guys go shopping in the downtown area

-ted buying a few funky trinkets and doodads for the apartment and for friends

-buying you a pretty sundress that you change into before heading back to the beach to pack up and get dinner

-all of the restaurants are either fully booked or stupid expensive, and ted is getting a little frustrated by the time you turn down a third restaurant, refusing to eat $23 chicken tenders

-you end up finding a random burger joint to get takeout from and eat it on the beach, enjoying the sunset together to finish off the day

-and ofc ted gets more pictures, because it would be a crime not to remember you looking like this

-hair soft and curly from the salt water, skin all smooth and glowy after a day in the sun, wearing his sweatshirt over the dress he'd bought you

-and you're laughing with ketchup from his burger smeared on your face, your mission to steal a bite failing

-after you two eat, you settle on the beach for a while longer, with you lounging in ted's lap, almost catlike in the way you settle across his thighs

-he occupies himself with running his fingers through your hair and humming to himself, enjoying the last of the sunset and people-watching

-he can tell by the way your head is nodding that you're falling asleep, and he's about to scoop you up to carry you back to the car before you're both starling at the sound of a loud BOOM

-you shoot up from where you're laying, frantically looking around before flinching when another explosion goes off

-and you both look to the sky with delighted gasps at the sight of brilliant, sparkling color in the sky

-you turn to him with a bright smile,

"You didn't tell me there'd be fireworks!"

-he only shrugs, deciding to be cool and mysterious instead of admitting that he also had no clue this would be happening

-leaning into his side with a content sigh as he wraps an arm around ur shoulder, pulling you into his side to enjoy the rest of the firework show before making ur way back to the car

-ted snaps one last picture of you on the way home, quickly hiding it, knowing you'd hate it

-it's a photo of you conked out in the passenger seat on the ride home, a little drool pooling at the side of your mouth

-and you've never looked more beautiful

(aw)

#ted nivison x you #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fanfic #ted nivison fanfic #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you

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