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atrwriting · 26 days

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terrible company — logan howlett x reader

secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are

side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene

back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy

barely edited we die like overworked students men

minors fuck off plz n thnx

as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick

—

“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”

you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.

he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.

you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”

he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”

you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.

you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.

your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.

not even close.

the worst part was that logan was your partner.

it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.

you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.

but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?

made your fucking blood boil.

that no good, rotten, fucking —

“hey, sweetheart —“

when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.

“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.

fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.

he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”

he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.

you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.

he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.

you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.

“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”

“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.

he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”

with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.

no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —

but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.

but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.

you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.

fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.

when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.

when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.

“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.

“…is it working?”

you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.

fuck.

you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.

“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”

“…fuckin’ vegans.”

“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”

“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.

you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.

you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.

you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.

him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.

“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.

straddled him, to be more exact.

in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.

“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“

he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.

you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”

he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.

“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.

“you’re good — i get them, too.”

“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.

that was it. the final straw.

you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”

he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”

“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”

“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”

“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”

oh — you shouldn’t have.

you really, really shouldn’t have.

you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.

you watched his nose crinkle in anger.

he let out a frustrated, slow breath.

another.

and another.

and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.

you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.

“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”

you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?

“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”

you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“

he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.

“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”

you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.

heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.

“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.

the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.

logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.

men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.

and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.

it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.

…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —

he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.

instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.

and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.

he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.

“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”

“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“

he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.

“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”

you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.

“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”

you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”

you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.

you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.

it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.

he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.

you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.

“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”

you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.

it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”

you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.

“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”

“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“

“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”

“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.

“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“

every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.

logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.

“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.

and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.

he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.

“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”

you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.

the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.

he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”

he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.

“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”

you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”

that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.

“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”

“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”

he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.

“right there —!” you sobbed.

“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”

you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.

“all mine.”

“my fucking pussy —“

“good fucking girl —“

“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”

your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.

logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.

you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.

it was going to be a long, long night...

#logan x reader #logan howlett #james logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #the wolverine #logan howlett x you

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hxney-lemcn · 1 month

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SOS — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: The one time you try to be proactive its like the world has it out for you; or, you get hurt while cleaning Ramshackle dorm and the overblot boys are the one who helps you.

tw: mentions of blood, injury, Malleus is a bit overdramatic...so is Grim.

wc: 1.8k (~230 each character)

Master List

No phone, no tv, not even a book. Not wanting to leave the comfort of your dorm, you decide to start something you’ve been putting off for quite some time now. Cleaning. You started with the living quarters, then the kitchen, then the closet. When you finished with the first floor you decided you’d clean your room and be done. Fate seemed to not be on your side, as when you climbed up the creaky steps, one step was a bit too creaky. When you put your full weight on it, you let out a gasp as the wood gave out from under you. Yes, that's right, your dorm was so run down that the stairs gave out on you. And there you lay in pain, no way to contact anyone. Thankfully, Grim came back from whatever he was doing to avoid helping you clean, you had never seen him look so horrified when he found you among the rubble of wood, splinters galore with bruises and scratches covering your skin. You also never saw Grim run so fast for something that wasn’t his premium cans of tuna. You could only hope he could find help quickly, it felt like something was wrong with your ankle and you wanted to get help asap.

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, Riddle watched the panicked Grim wearily. He was always with the Aduece duo so he thought Grim was panicked from their troubling shenanigans. Instead, he felt his heart drop when Grim sputtered your name among the words fallen and hurt. Riddle rushed to the Ramshackle dorm with Cater and Trey in tow. When he found you, battered and bruised he felt his blood boil. He knew your dorm was run down, that it needed repair, but he didn’t think that Crowley would be so neglectful to the point of it harming someone. He would have to have a stern talking to the headmaster after he knew you were treated properly. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to carry you as he…was small for the average man…but he made sure Trey held you gently, constantly asking how you feel and if there’s anything he can get you to help. As soon as you were in the infirmary being treated, he marched his way straight to the headmasters office. No way was he going to allow this to continue, Crowley must renovate your dorm this instant and he won’t settle for less. In the meantime, he’ll take care of you in his dorm, you were basically a Heartslabyul student already, so it made sense. Don’t worry, prefect, he’ll help you while you're injured, although the extra attention you get from everyone makes him a little jealous.

Leona Kingscholar

He was trying to get some rest when your little pest of a rat came bothering him. He opened one eye to glare, confused as to why Grim would be crying. Leona could barely make out what the creature was blubbering about, snapping at him to speak clearly. So when Grim finally managed to shout that you're critically injured and you're going to die and you need help, Leona didn’t hesitate, grabbing the rat by his scruff and stalking towards your dorm. He’ll be damned if you're hurt, what did you even do to get into that state? He swears you are such a headache. His green eyes scanned your dorm, finally falling upon your form in a heap of wood, your weak cry of his name making his ear twitch. So many emotions pooled into him as he noted every little scratch. Although he grumbled, ears twitching and tail swaying angrily, he held you softly, making sure not to hurt you anymore than you already were. And no, clearly your dorm was falling apart, no way in hell was he letting you go back. You were treated much better that time you both shared his room, so what’s the problem? You’re stuck with him now, herbivore. Don’t worry that silly little head of yours, he’ll make sure he clears things up with Crowley.

Azul Ashengrotto

Poor, poor Grim. As he ran out, tears blurring his vision, he cried out for help to the first shadowy figure he could. Unfortunately that was Floyd and Jade. The two eels grinned toothily, Grim once again being perfect prey…though they paused as Grim mentioned your name. Floyd asked what was wrong with shrimpy, and that’s when Grim cried out about how you're a bloody heap of a mess, dying alone as they speak. Jade quickly pulls his phone out, alerting Azul of the current circumstance as his brother is already making his way towards your dorm. Although the Leech twins can be cruel, you were not only their friend, but their boss’s love, and so when they found you, not in as dire of a situation as Grim made it be (you were clearly hurt, but not dying), they gently pried the wood off of you and carried you to the infirmary. Azul was already there, waiting anxiously, his heart dropping when he saw your state. You gave him a strained smile, and his heart broke, even with your terrible injuries, you’re still trying to comfort him. Don’t worry prefect, he and the twins will watch over you until the last scratch seals and the last bruise fades. Oh, and your dorm? Don’t worry about that, Azul will make sure Crowley pays the price for his negligence towards you. He has his ways, after all.

Jamil Viper

When Jamil spots Grim running towards him, he feels his headache growing worse. Kalim had been worse than usual with his spending, and now he’ll have to deal with another problem. That headache grows ten times worse when Grim manages to sputter about how you’re hurt and need help. Without a second thought, Jamil drops his current task, rushing to your dorm. His heart was pounding, scared of just how hurt you could be, why that was, and if he was too late. You’ve been the only thing keeping him sane lately, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do without you. When he found you dazed with wood surrounding you he dropped to your side, assessing the damage done before doing his best to pick you up. Once you were safe and sound in the infirmary, he tried to stay by your side for as long as he could. He didn’t mind the idea of tending to you, especially not with you in this state. But his duty lied elsewhere, and eventually he had to wrench himself away, but only when you fell asleep peacefully and that it was confirmed that you’d recover well. What surprised him was when Kalim told him to take care of you, that he could take care of himself for the time being (he couldn’t and Jamil knew that)...and now you were a Scarabia student, both Kalim and Jamil refused to allow you back into that decrepit dorm and hurt yourself any further.

Vil Schoenheit

Rook and Vil were actually on their way to see you when they stumbled upon a sniveling, sobbing, Grim. They watched him as he mumbled and muttered, spewing incoherent sentences. Vil stared at him with a sharp look, telling him to get to the point. He felt his heart drop when your name was spouted along with hurt and dying. Without a second thought, Rook took off towards your dorm, Vil not far behind. He cared for you far too much to just sit around when you needed his help. He hadn’t even managed to enter your dorm, Rook already carrying you out. Vil rushed to your side, moving your hair out of your face and inspecting you for anything that was death threatening. His heart continued to break as you complained about the pain on the way to the infirmary. He did his best to comfort you, promising to treat you to whatever you wish once you were fully healed. By the end of the day, he’s already finished giving an ultimatum to Crowley. If he doesn’t repair Ramshackle, then not only will he expose him, but he’ll make sure you're taken into Pomefiore and treated properly. He won’t let such an offense be taken lightly.

Idia Shroud

Grim was lucky he ran into Ortho. The humanoid android may look small, but he’s got strength. Grim was sobbing to the point of hysteria, unable to properly communicate the dire situation. Thankfully, Ortho doesn’t need any convincing, only following the poor creature scrambling back to Ramshackle dorm. When Ortho saw you collapsed in a heap of rubble his inner alarms blared. An emergency signal was sent to Idia, and when Ortho sent the message of bringing you to the infirmary he felt a rush of panic hit him. Scrambling, he turned on the security camera footage, watching with wide eyes at you in Ortho’s arms. You had blood and bruising, dear seven what happened? His fear of your well being overpowered his fear of everything else, and he quickly ran…walked to the infirmary. He awkwardly stayed by your side as Ortho fetched whatever you needed, his eyes tracing over every scratch and cut. He felt like it was his fault somehow. You looked better with the blood wiped off though, and you weren’t in critical condition. When you jokingly mentioned that even stairs were your enemy here Idia frowned. He anonymously messages Crowley while you sleep, sending clips that could ruin his career. He won’t release them, as long as Crowley rebuilds Ramshackle to be as spick and span as any other dormitory.

Malleus Draconia

The second Grim stumbles upon Malleus and snaps out of his hysteria. The fear of the powerful being overwhelms him for a second before he pitifully mutters that you need help. Malleus only tilts his head at the tiny creature before nodding, silently asking him to lead the way. At first Malleus didn’t think much of it, only happy that you needed his help. That was until he heard your weak whimper, then saw your frail body mutilated by debris…yeah he’s the most dramatic one. Although you were hurt you definitely weren’t mutilated. He’s also the most gentle, carefully cupping your face as the wood that surrounded you was instantly incinerated. Every wince or whimper as he lifted you up was met with profound apologies, like he was the one who hurt you instead of rotting infrastructure. Instead of taking you to the infirmary, he takes you to his room where he brings only the best healers. Please don’t try to stop him, this is for your well being, and he won’t settle for mediocre. Lilia only encourages him, and his retainers are no help. So you're stuck in the biggest bed with the silkiest sheets…actually it's dangerous that you were brought here because you're not sure you could go back to the itchy thin cotton sheets you’ve been stuck using as blankets. Though, you won’t really have to worry about that because Malleus has already made the decision to keep you with him in his room…well if you’re not comfortable with that then he’ll give you your own room and he’ll make sure it has the best amenities. Just don’t mind that it's right next to his room.

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revasserium · 1 year

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Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

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idontcare4urmom · 1 month

Text

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑀𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐻 || Chris sturniolo

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you make the terrible mistake of quip referring to your ex’s name and behaviour during an argument with your boyfriend Chris,leading to things taking a wild twist when his possessive impulses take over.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠: yelling and cursing,smut,unprotected and rough sex,clit playing,fingering,orgasming multiple times,pet names,dirty talk,praising,degradation,hair yanking,spanking,overstimulation,etc.

𝑎／𝑛: my first language is not english,sorry for any mistakes.

you heavily huff out a breath out from your nose while standing there,dealing with his yelling and complaining once again.the reasonings of your arguments lately kept getting more and more ridiculous to be honest,yet you weren’t able to prevent them anymore.

“i told you plenty amount of times Chris,it wasn’t my fucking fault that i had to cancel,my mom neede-“

“ugh i am tired of this! always the same bullshit excuse,it’s the third one you are doing this in a month” he shouted out abruptly,instantly regretting it once he observed the way your jaw clenched along with your eyes holding back the bawling.

he was genuinely about to apologize after he softly sighed,reaching out for your shoulder but for you to just snap backwards,he was caught off guard by the action,however it was what you mumbled next that pissed him off frantically.

“fuck off,James would never had treated me that way,he would understand”

oh Chris could sense his blood boil as soon as that sentence came out of your lips,his fists automatically closing into his sides with his pupils taking over a menacing gleam that popped out raw frustration.

he despises nothing more but that man,especially since he was aware of how head over heels you used to be for him a year ago.

disbelief slowly crosses over your features when he somehow answers calmly,a vigorously edge drizzling his voice “watch your mouth pretty girl,we all know that i treat you way better than he did”

your stubbornness inched to deny,to fight back,although an other part of you wanted to play safe,sending him a piercing glare and then staying completely silent,letting the quietness hang over the air until he broke it himself.

“you are not really helping yourself out sweetheart” it was obvious that he was mentally referring at your lack of response,stepping impossible close to you so he can with a light shove launch you on the mattress of your bed,

he immediately hovered above your figure,both of his legs encircling your sides before he began to undress you,making sure to take purposefully brush your skin in whatever chance,and you were more than surprised by the suddenness of his gestures.

“what are you-“

now it was his turn to not reply,greedily discarding to the floor any fabric that covers you up and leaving you in just your thong on,causing you to squirm as air bubbles the peel of your body.about to speak up,he withdrew that opportunity by smashing down his lips to your’s,kissing you with a passionate fever.

the contact was additionally excessive and demanding,making you touch starved as his mouth coated your's blissfully,his palms strolling down on your skin to land on the curve of your ass,gropping it in between his fingers before giving it a firm slap,stumulating a soft gasp from you.

there wasn't any second to protest,him already flipped over on your stomach with him positioned against you from behind.you could sensate the numbness on the fabric of your underwear curating your warm heat while his hand grounded down on your delicate buttocks again and again,only dragging out lewd whimpers for a response.

"aw what's wrong baby? too sensitive to handle this? sould have thought about that earlier" he cooed mockingly,his free index finger polling under your panties,tugging them down and teasing his touch everywhere but on your center that was practically begging for relief.

a muffled sinister snicker escaped him when your hips rolled high,desperately yet silently pulsating for more.

"not so fast baby,now tell me first..was James able to get you like this? all whiney from just a little spanking as if you are a whore in heat?"

his words for some reason only fuelled your desire further,especially from the tone of absolute disgust dripping from his lips at the mention of your past partner.

you managed to only high pitch a “no” that cracked into a moan of ecstasy when he finally started rubbing your drenched bud and clit rhythmically,pinching it at the edge of his curvy digit.

you scratched furiously the surface of the headboard that was tangled within your hands,your head interred on the soft layer of pillow as your boyfriend continued to pleasure you,sending jolts of shivering through your entire body.

his experienced tongue darted to loop at the nape of your neck and collarbone,choking out a strained moan once the roots of your hair were pulled backwards,angling the perfect length of exposed skin “Chris- “mhm,i know baby don’t worry,you can take it”

you shallowed the lump that formed on your throat as he repeatedly draw patterns of bite nibbling on you,his ring and pinky finger inserting around your entrance before unexpectedly slipping inside,coaxing from you a gasp “oh fuck!”

“that’s it baby,have to stretch your out really fast,gotta prepare you for my dick later,okay?” you just nodded,drowning at the nirvana you were receiving while he pumped and curled smoothly his fingertips on your insides,hugging all the right spots perfectly.

you clasped the sheets below you since you felt your upcoming orgasm rising fast,the uncomfortable tight pressure on your lower abdomen causing you to clench around his hand and without a warning erupt into busts of cum that glistened your legs with arousal.

he didn’t wasted any second to haul off his jeans along with his boxers in one movement,wrathfully stroking the overwhelmed bulge of his leaking head while roaming his gaze at the sight in front of him,you being already fucked out,

he aligned himself at your opening,his chest squeezing your spine as he effortlessly and powerfully thrusted in your hole,eliciting a groan from the both of you.still affected for your previous release though,you mumbled a follow of curses “shit Chris,’m sensitive”

“shh baby,you will be fine i promise,you just have to do what you know the best for a few minutes,managing my cock like a good whore” he murmured soothingly yet demandingly,his hips swirling forward in a newfound pace and warmth that made your head spin.

the “few minutes” was totally a lie to say the least,cause after the multiple rounds you couldn’t even count anymore how many times you came undone around his length,your vision blurry with tears dropping down your cheeks.

the only possible hunch you could currently store in your memory was his every vein and muscle pulsing in your sweet spot with no mercy,the noise of skin to skin clapping together with mixed gasps and mewls resonating nonstop.

“t-too much!” you sobbed out once he increased the speed of his pounding at the same time his mouth wrapped around your perky nipple,his teeth gently twisting the flesh.

completely vulnerable and at his mercy,he finally stopped when he decided that you actually had enough,lazily pushing back and forth for a last time before his seed overflowed you entirely like a wave for the fourth(?) time.

the soreness and pain you felt when he pulled out from your pussy was not able to be described,but at the same time,there was no doubt about this being your best ever sex session with him.

and you also were now sure for one “lesson” : to never test Chris’ limits again

——————————————

ehhh i finally ended this i hope you guys like it cause i don’t want to disappoint you 🥹🫶🏻

tags!: @sleepysturniolo @muwapsturniolo @bratty-eliana44 @verywonderlandpolice @2muchofaslvt @sophiaxsblog @cayleeuhithinknot @yourfavg1nger @lianomer @joemamaaa42069 @chrispotatos @bagsbyclair0 @xprakzif @wiidfi0wer33 @zainabthescientist @freakbob15 @cutiepaiquill @buckys-goodgirl @chrisstvrns @fakeesyd

i lowkey wanna make an official taglist but i am scared that no one will want to be on it fr

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fandom #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #chris x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #smutty #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #evelyn’s posts #chris sturniolo smut #matt x reader

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happilyhertale · 8 months

Text

Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"

Word count: 4.6 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.

He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?

"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.

Viserys' eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.

"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.

Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.

"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.

But Viserys nods again.

"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."

Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.

"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"

Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.

"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"

And now it's Daemon who simply nods.

Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.

Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.

He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.

He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.

You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.

Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.

"Me," he says simply.

He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.

"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.

You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.

"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.

Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.

He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.

You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.

"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.

You take more oil and apply it to your calves

Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.

"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.

"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.

"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.

"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.

Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.

"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.

He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.

But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.

"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.

"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.

But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.

"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.

But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.

As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.

"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.

He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.

"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.

He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.

"I want you, niece."

He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.

You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?

You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.

He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.

"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"

At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.

"I want you." he repeats his words.

He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"

As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.

"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.

Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.

"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"

He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.

You think for a moment.

"Well..." you finally say.

"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."

And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."

Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.

"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.

You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.

"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.

You hesitate for a moment and look at him.

"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"

Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.

His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.

You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.

"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."

Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.

His hand still glides along your body.

"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.

He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.

You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.

"Uncle...?" you whisper.

Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.

He speaks softly, in his deep voice.

"Tell me... What does my niece want?"

In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.

You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.

"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."

And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.

"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.

Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"

His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.

"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"

He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.

"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.

"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.

Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.

"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.

You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.

His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.

"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"

You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.

"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"

You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.

"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.

Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.

His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.

"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.

You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.

You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.

His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.

The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.

He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.

Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.

His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.

You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.

Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.

A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.

You've never felt anything like this before.

Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.

And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.

"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.

A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.

"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.

The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.

But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.

But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.

His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.

"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.

Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.

His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.

A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.

You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.

He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.

You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.

Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.

Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.

He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.

He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.

When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.

You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.

"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.

His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."

You blush even more as he says these words.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.

Still breathing heavily, you look at him.

"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.

Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.

"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.

You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.

He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.

"Good..." he murmurs.

He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.

"And to a good wife many things will be given..."

You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.

Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.

He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.

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Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary

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lxkeee · 7 months

Text

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART EIGHT

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: we love a family that bonds.

PART ONE | PART SEVEN | PART NINE | NAVIGATION

Xavier was worried, scared even. He's pacing back and forth in his room. Having second thoughts whether he'll go down to hell and look for his beloved mother or just wait for her here.

What he's afraid of is what'll happen if his mother sees his father. His father already caused so much emotional pain to her. Xavier cannot imagine what kind of heartbreaking pain she'll experience once she sees her husband.

Xavier looks outside his window, rays of setting sunlight peaks through the white curtains, giving his room an orange like glow. He runs his hand through his light blond locks in frustration. He can't wait a second longer to look for her.

Xavier wonders if his parents already met down there, the idea makes his blood boil.

The idea of his father suddenly back to their life makes his skin crawl. Xavier knows how much influence his father had on his mother's heart.

He sighs, a long exhale filled with tension and worry. It's already been a few hours now, what could she be possibly doing down there? He thought to himself.

With a small huff, he fixed his uniform. That's it, I'm going down there. He took a deep breath, snapped his fingers together and opened a portal that leads to hell.

He steps inside the portal, summoning his three pairs of wings so he can fly down. Xavier hopes that his mother is alright.

The portal closed and the angel who once stood inside his large magnificently large white room was no more.

Lucifer returned back to the palace, teleporting back to his bedroom. A sigh of relief escaping his lips as he saw that [Y/n] was still passed out asleep. His eyes softened, sitting at the corner of the bed, in the empty space beside her sleeping form.

He lets out a long exhale, a tired sigh. He gazed down at her sleeping and tired face, his heart ached. Clearly torn between two women. Lilith, his wife of many millennia and [Y/n], his first wife and the angel who stood by his side and supported him despite his neglect.

He regrets it, genuinely. He was young and stupid, he and [Y/n] got married when they were in their 200's. Romance wasn't common back then, nothing to learn from. The only love they were taught was loving heaven and its creator. Romantic love barely existed during those times as every angel was busy with their respective duties.

He loves [Y/n] genuinely and he was wrong for not upholding his vows to her.

He gently swept away some strands of falling hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. A small smile on his face once his eyes landed on his hand, devoid of any rings. He finally let go of his wedding ring, the one he used for Lilith. He didn't wear his wedding ring—the one he used for [Y/n]—as he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Lucifer remembers that he didn't want to remove his first wedding ring with his first wife but Lilith insisted he should.

Lilith was envious, because after so many years he still wore it and led to some arguments.

He can't just forget about [Y/n], he doesn't have the heart to. Her heartbroken face is forever embedded into his memories, her empty and blank face as she stared at him and Lilith when they were banished.

A look in her face told him that she was tired, tired of waiting for him, tired of his second priority.

He should've been better, he should've treated her better. He should've been her perfect husband just like how she was his perfect wife.

His love for Lilith is slowly disappearing, ever since they've begun arguing. Their beliefs and ideals no longer match with one another.

He accidentally mentioned [Y/n]'s name during their heated arguments, which causes Lilith to be mad at him and eventually left, leaving divorce papers for him to sign on his desk.

He tried so hard to bury his love for [Y/n], he tried so hard to forget her as he knew he wouldn't see her again and most likely didn't want to see him either.

A single tear runs down his rosy red cheek, breath hitching. Emotions are finally spilling forth, his love and heart ache that he bottled up for so many eons finally erupting.

“So this is how it feels,” he sang softly, careful not to wake her up. His voice broke as he sang ever so softly, “To fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”

He made a mistake in his decisions, he admits that. He should've done things better. Choosing Lilith over her was a mistake, “Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with.”

He sighs softly, choking on his words as he sings his unspoken feelings. His hand trembled with emotions, “Sorry for leaving like that, you don't deserve to get caught in my mess.”

He was a troublemaker, he didn't want her to get caught in his mess but whatever silly idea he had, she was always ready to listen and comfort him when the elders rejected it. He gently held her hand, feeling how cold her skin was, he cups it with his hand and blew some warm air to it to warm her hand. He used to do this when they were back in heaven.

He gently laid down her hand back to the bed and back to her side, a small smile on his face before he let out a sad sigh, “Loving me is just so difficult, I don't know how I should tell you that.” he admits softly, he knows how tiring he can be, he knows... He had to deal with himself after all. He sighs, he's been doing so much of it lately.

“I've fallen for somebody else, happened so quickly, I lost myself.” he admitted, he realized years ago that he was only infatuated with Lilith, when the honeymoon phase was over, arguments started.

“A shadow of you drifts along by my window or did I imagine that?” he could remember when he would spend all by himself at the kitchen, drinking after a fight with Lilith and during his drunken delusion, he would often see figures of [Y/n] comforting him.

A shaky breath leaves past his lips, eyes tired and dull. He looks at the sleeping once more, she looked so peaceful.

He wonders if he should transfer her to the hotel, he needs to check up on Charlie and the others too. With a heavy sigh, he gently lifted her up into his arms once more—effortlessly carrying her. A sense of deja vu hits him, a memory of the time he carried her like this after they got married, [Y/n] happily laughing in his arms while he grins at her as he held her. Times were simple back then.

A single tear drop, running down his blemish free pale skin, the droplet running past his rosy red spots of his cheeks.

He took a deep breath, summoning a portal that leads to an empty vacant room of the hotel, he steps in with her still asleep on his arms. The portal closes behind them as the room shifts into one Hazbin Hotel's newest guest rooms.

He gently walked towards the bed, gently laying her down comfortably, making sure to tuck her in.

Finally, he slowly gave distance between them. Standing just a few feet away from the bed, a sad look on his face, “This is how it feels, to fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”

Seeing her after all these years, ignited the fading flame of his love for her. Adding gasoline to a flame.

“Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with you.” he silently admitted, she doesn't hurt him, he knows it was his fault. He made everything complicated, his decision caused harm to her and their son, to these sinners. He made a reckless decision of abandoning her, giving both of them pain in the process.

He doesn't deserve her. Not after the things he's put her through.

He thought sadly, before turning his back away from her, walking out of the room. He took one last look at her sleeping form before eventually closing the door as he left the room.

The heels of his boots tapped against the dark red tiles of the hallway of the hotel as he walked towards his own room. He needs some time to process everything.

Charlie wasn't expecting a visitor this soon after the extermination, she certainly didn't expect her visitor to be her half half brother, a frown on his face and a glare on his eyes. She would've mistaken him for her father if he didn't have [e/c] eyes and also if the boy wasn't ridiculously so tall.

Charlie smiled nervously, how could she not? Xavier was looking down on her literally with the same coldness in his eyes.

“Xavier... Hi! I didn't expect you to be here...” Charlie says nervously, waving at him.

Xavier just raised an eyebrow, clearly not interested in small talk, “Where is she?” he asked, voice cold and means business.

Charlie tilted her head, “Who...?” she asked, wondering who the older boy was referring to.

Xavier scoffed, [e/c] eyes narrowing down on the blonde girl as he crosses his arms together on his chest, “My mother,” he answered, a deadpan look on his face, “—She came down here a few hours ago, she should've been back by now.” he added, a worried tone on his voice. Xavier was beyond worried, his poor mother alone in this disgusting place—the realm his blood father ruled. He can't imagine the possibilities that could happen to her.

Charlie's eyes widened in realization, oh, the angel. Why didn't she realize it sooner? Of course he's referring to the passed out angelic woman. Charlie is slightly nervous about telling the older boy, but she has to, “She's resting, she suddenly passed out awhile ago....?” She says, nervously, avoiding Xavier's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, ears ringing as everything suddenly went numb. For a brief moment, it felt like he was alone once more, the scared little boy who begged for his mother's attention.

He could remember how close she was to him but for some reason, he couldn't reach her. His mother can barely look at him in the eyes without crying. He felt useless, pathetic for being born this way and caused his beloved mother so much pain. He failed, he failed, he failed, he failed, HE FAILED HER. He couldn't save her again.

Mom...? Where are you? Please... Don't leave me again...

Charlie's eyes widened when she sees a single tear slid down Xavier's cheek despite the boy's unchanging glare, Charlie though could notice how sad his eyes were.

“Xavier...?” She calls out to him, no response.

“Azrael... He looks so much like him... I... I can't... It hurts to look at him.” his mother sobbed on the unknown taller and black haired man's shoulders. Xavier grips his duck plushie, he was somehow fond of the animal. The little boy peaked through the small gap of the door to his mother's room, hoping for some comfort after a nightmare—he didn't expect to see his beloved mom crying about him and that made him freeze on the spot. He was a smart child after all, just like his father.

“[Y/n]... He's just a kid... He needs you...” Xavier heard the man say, he still has trouble saying his name. Was it Azwawel? Or Azrawel? He forgot. Xavier, despite being so young, barely six years old—suddenly felt so numb. He slowly walked away from his mother's room, dragging the duck plushie. It felt heavier than usual, his little arms too weak to hold it.

He felt his chest tighten, he couldn't breathe. Chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

Charlie got even more worried as she saw him begin to hyperventilate, “Xavier! Hey, hey... Look at me.” She says softly, holding on to the arms of the shaking boy, the physical contact snapping him out of his trance as he quickly pulled his arms away from the girl.

“Do not touch me.” he hissed, glaring at Charlie, “Tell me where my mother is or I'll destroy this hotel just to find her.” he threatened, making Charlie's eyes widen in fear. She knows she can't fight him, let alone her friends aren't as powerful to fight an angelic being—a Seraphim.

“She's upstairs, resting... Just don't hurt anyone.” She stammers, giving way for the older boy to come inside the hotel. She knew as her father texted her about it.

Vaggie's eyes widened when she saw the angel walks in, she could feel the man's power as he entered the room. Suddenly, the room got colder. Vaggie summoned her spear but she saw Charlie crossing her arms into an 'X' while shaking her head. Vaggie hesitantly lowered her weapon as they all looked at each other, she had to grip Angel Dust's arm to stop the arachnid from doing stupid—thankfully, Angel Dust seemed to get the memo and closed his mouth. Husk had to hold Niffty to stop her from causing chaos again.

Charlie led him up the stairs to the second floor, the others watching as they disappeared from sight.

Xavier's eyes widened as the door to where his mother was resting was opened, the first thing he saw was his mother's passed out form, lying down on the bed.

Xavier immediately kneeled down to his mother's side, holding her hand affectionately. What happened to her?

He looked angrily at Charlie, dull [e/c] eyes staring at bright red ones, “What did you do to her?” he asked, voice lowering and clearly pissed off. Charlie shakes her head, clearly afraid of him, “We didn't do anything! She suddenly just passed out on her own.” she explained and he just sighs, shaking away his thoughts.

‘They wouldn't just recklessly harm an angel, they couldn't land a hit on her if they tried. She must've overworked again.’ he thought to himself, sighing.

“Just leave us alone please? Now.” he ordered, Charlie flinched in fear but nodded and quickly left the room, making sure to close the door on her way out.

Xavier sighs, his shoulders dropping. It suddenly felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His mother is his world, after all.

“It's going to be okay, mother. I am here for you, always.” he spoke softly, kissing his mother's hand before lowering it back down to the bed, hovering his hand over her sleeping form and began to heal her.

Lucifer stood outside the door to where [Y/n] was resting, his hand hovering above the doorknob—shaking. Charlie just told him about the situation. His son is here, the son he didn't know who existed was here.

He took a deep breath, ‘You can do this, Lucifer... This is your chance to ask for forgiveness.’ he thought to himself before knocking first and then slowly twisted the doorknob, pushing it open.

It felt like he was looking at the mirror, it felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself—the reflection glaring at him, sharp [e/c] eyes glaring at him with so much hatred.

“You!” the boy growled, standing up from where he was kneeling.

Lucifer was taken aback from the boy's anger. It felt like he was looking at a past version of him, the past him who despised heaven who treated him so wrongfully.

“What are you doing here? Why do you have so much audacity to come here like you didn't do anything wrong?” the boy asked, his voice filled with so much distaste for his father.

Lucifer's eyes widened, words stuck in his throat. Say something!

With a heavy inhale and exhale, Lucifer looked at the glaring boy, trying to calm him down, “I know what I did and I... Want to apologize... For all the things I've done.” he said softly, stammering slightly. He's trying so hard not to show that he's beyond nervous.

Xavier's glare sharpened, who does this man think he is?! Did he think a mere apology can undo all the damage he has done to him and his mother.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked Lucifer mockingly, a cold look on his face. Lucifer just stood frozen on the spot.

“Just because you're the most beautiful being of all of creation doesn't mean you can have anything you want,” Xavier sneered, a mocking smile on his face, “Your title and power doesn't mean anything to me, how does it feel to be the most beautiful being in all of creation yet you are thoroughly despised by your own flesh and blood?” Xavier asked and suddenly Lucifer couldn't speak, his chest tightening at the harsh words his supposed son had said to him. His breath caught up on his throat.

“This face...?” Xavier says, his hand moving towards his own face, he glared at his birth father, “I despised it so much, it's horrendous.” he says flatly.

“I do not know what my mother sees in you,” he says, looking up and down on his father's frozen form—not moving a muscle, “All I see is an angel who failed to become what he needed to become. A failure, nothing more and nothing less.” he says sharply, [e/c] eyes dull and hollow as he gazes at dull red ones.

Lucifer felt the familiar sting in his eyes, he desperately willed himself not to cry. What a failure of a father he is. First Charlie, now it's.... He doesn't even know the boy's name, he remembered Charlie telling him, but he somehow forgot. Pathetic.

Xavier's lips were formed in a thin line, turning his back away from his supposed blood father. He still doesn't understand why his beloved mother loves his father so much. He's too afraid to ask. Too afraid of making her remember such painful memories. He'll wait for her to open up. They have so much time to heal, he'll wait. He could remember young him who wanted to meet his father so much, the young naive Xavier who admired his father—the father who created the very species he loved so much, ducks. Poor naive Xavier who finally learned the pain his father gave to his mother to point his mother can't look at him, her beloved son in the eyes.

With a shaky breath, finally letting go of the breath he took in. Xavier sighs, “I will be taking my mother back home, thank you for your hospitality.” Xavier murmured, gently lifting his mother into his arms with no effort.

Lucifer's eyes widened from what the boy has said, they're going to leave. He needs to do something, anything to earn their forgiveness.

“Wait..! Please let her recover mor—”

“Haven't you done enough damage already?” Xavier asked, his voice devoid of any emotions as he tilted his head slightly to look at his father, a single stray tear running down his pale cheeks, the single droplet running past the rosy red spot on his cheek.

Lucifer was taken aback once more, the King of Hell can see so much sadness, anger, and longing on the boy's eyes. Lucifer wanted to reach out to the boy, his fatherly instincts kicking in. His hand extending where the boy stood, pausing as he hesitated.

Even after all these years, sweet little Xavier is still somewhere inside him. The sweet naive Xavier who wanted a complete family, who wanted a father.

“I said what I said, she'll be going home and get proper treatment. I doubt hell is a appropriate place to treat an angel like her.” Xavier says flatly, clearly not open for any discussion left. His decision is final. Lucifer can only respect that, he owes it to them. Lucifer finally lowers his hand, regrettably so.

Xavier turned away from Lucifer once more, summoning a portal back to their home in heaven.

A bright golden light formed in thin air as a portal opened, Xavier stepped in with his mother in his arms. He dared not look back. He doesn't have any reason to.

The portal closes in. Lucifer was left alone standing in the guestroom, his first family gone in a blink of an eye.

He cried in anguish inside that room.

He can hear his bones rattle against his skin as he dragged his body to his mother's bedroom, Xavier is incredibly exhausted. Physically, no. Emotionally and mentally? Yes, absolutely.

He is still carrying his mother in his arms, prioritizing her comfort over his.

Kicking the door open, he walked at the center of the room where his mother's bed was, gently laying her down. Making sure to tuck her in.

[Y/n] snuggled, against her blanket. Xavier smiled, a gentle yet strained smile on his face.

“I'll protect you mom, sleep well and dream well.” he says softly, planting a small kiss on his mother's forehead before eventually leaving the room.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

#lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”#lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #Lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x female reader

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month

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Teasing JJK Men With a Popsicle

Summary: When the sun is hot, you cool off with a tasty ocy treat! While also teasing your boyfriend.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: suggestiveness, food play?? language, kissing, teasing, mock blowjobs, smutty-esque

Word Count: 5,5k

A/N: this is another poll prompt I did awhile back! I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things now that my writers block is gone! Enjoy!!

Gojo Satoru:

“Good mornin—ooh—” Shoko held her cigarette between her teeth, watching you boil with anger. “Not a good morning?” she asked, cockimg a brow as you plopped down on the bench next to her.

“It would’ve been if it wasn’t for Gojo.”

“Yikes, using your boyfriend‘s last name. What did he do to piss you off??

“It’s on the lines of what he ‘didn’t do.’” Your best friend took a long drag and blew the smoke above her head.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but what happened?”

The morning has started with the potential of being a great day. Gojo had you on top of him, rocking your hips against his morning wood, getting you all riled up before he broke the kiss. He quickly got out of bed, claiming that he needed to get ready for the meeting, which you knew was a crock of shit, but instead of calling him out, you made the mistake of joining him in the shower. He had you pinned against the wall, pressing between your legs, teasing your pussy before pulling away the second you began grinding down on him. It was painfully clear your asshole of a boyfriend decided to edge you all fucking morning. Once you made this discovery, you did your best to avoid him and his seductive advances.

But avoiding him was easier said than done.

On the ride to school, his fingers teased your inner thighs, rubbing the skin gently. When you finally made it to work, he cornered you in a classroom, rubbing himself over the fat of your ass. Gojo had woken up and chose violence this morning, and you were his victim.

“I’m seriously about to ask Yaga to send me off to supervise a mission or something to get me away from him.”

The only reason you were able to maintain some form of composure was all thanks to the first year’s training session Gojo was instructing. You had an hour to try to calm yourself down to get through the rest of the day, but knowing Gojo, he wouldn’t make the rest of the day easy. No amount of time would prepare you for the relentless torture. That was sure to ensue the second he got back from his lesson.

Shoko blew out another cloud, cupping some dark hair behind her ear. “Your solution is simple.” You stared blankly at your best friend. “You tease the bastard back.” Part of you jumps eagerly at the idea of switching the playing field. Part of you began cooking up all sorts of plots to invoke your revenge. The other half of you pouts, sinking slowly further down the bench.

“Yeah, and how do you suggest I do that? The last time I checked, he’s a giant who is untouchable. Even if I tried grinding against him, all he needed to do was put up his infinity.”

“You don’t have to grind on him to tease him. I’m a lesbian, and even I know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

Shoko put her cigarette out before gently grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the teacher's lounge. “We just need to make a quick stop at the kitchen.”

Gojo sighed as he watched the first-years brawl with the second-years. This was far less entertaining than teasing you had been. Seeing your pretty skin flush before you sighed in annoyance was his fuel for the day. Teasing you was just too easy. But he fully intended to make all the teasing worthwhile once you got home.

He just wanted to go as fast as he could to get back to said teasing. “Hey.” Never mind the waiting; it seemed as though some other almighty power had answered his prayers. You had been summoned near his side, practically begging to be teased! You were like a moth to the glowing flame that was his stature.

“Hey sweetie, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand and head to the sh-h-he—!!”

Gojo’s flawless Ivory skin flushed a crimson red when he turned his attention to you. Your pretty lips were sealed around a popsicle, sucking it as if it was his dick. Cheeks were hollowed, and your eyes narrowed as you watched his lips quiver under the shock of seeing you in such a promiscuous state. Once you were sure his attention was focused solely on you, your head began bobbing, taking more of (him) the popsicle into your mouth with a fucking moan. That sound alone should be reserved for him and his dick only, not some popsicle. Why the fuck was he getting insanely jealous over a sweet?!

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Cooling off?” You say, finally pulling off the cream-colored icy treat

Satoru scoffed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other to distract himself from his tightening pants. But nothing truly seemed to help because all he could focus on was how pretty your lips looked wrapped around your frozen popsicle. While he was suffering, you reveled in the satisfaction and the sweet taste of revenge.

“Baby, come on, don’t do this to me.” He complained, watching you take the whole length into your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh?” You swirl your tongue around the tip. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for what, Toru?” You asked, popping the popsicle back into your mouth

“I’m sorry for teasing you, okay?!”

Your lips together, humming thoughtfully as you tapped your index finger against your chin. “I guess you seem like you mean it.” Satoru nodded, fluffy tufts of white hair moving with his every move. “But that still doesn’t make what you did right, so no, I won’t stop.” Your boyfriend let out a pained moan as you returned to enjoying your frozen treat.

“Sweetie, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Your cheeks hollowed as you suck the tip hard.

“Yes, anything!”

You hummed again, pulling off the tip. “You’re going to let me ride you tonight. And I will edge until I see tears in those blue eyes.”

Gojo scoffed, bending down slightly and getting in your face. “You say that as if it’s a punishment.” You focused on his blindfold as you pulled off the popsicle.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, please, like you riding me is a punish—” For an instant, Gojo waited, thinking that maybe you were going to have some smart retort to shoot back at him. But instead, you bit the tip of the popsicle off with your teeth with an aggressive snarl.

With pure satisfaction, you watched your boyfriend's hands shoot down his crotch. Where he covered his now soft cock. His jaw went slack as eyebrows twitched from underneath his blindfold, clearly pained by your actions. You smiled before patting him on the shoulder and turning to walk back towards the school with a sway in your hips. One that generally left him eager to get home, but this time, it sent pinpricks down his spine.

“Can’t wait to get home and teach you a thing or two!”

While the strongest sorcerer of the modern age watched, you saunter off. He was beginning to realize just how badly he had fucked up. And he was not looking forward to what you had planned for him. Okay, maybe he was a little excited.

Geto Suguru:

It wasn’t your fault. You had done nothing to deserve the sex ban your boyfriend had put you on. You may have fallen through a second-story window after purposely ignoring his warnings. And it may have been a fall that had resulted in you needing twenty stitches, but that didn’t mean he needed to withhold sex from you.

Normally when shit like this happened, the outcome either resulted and you were getting lectured or getting spanked, which wasn’t ordinarily bad at all. But seeing that this was your fifth injury in three weeks, Suguru decided to take a different approach to teach you a lesson, and it was a lesson that was working, much to your dismay.

This punishment was beginning to eat you alive.

You could live without sex for a week, but two weeks should be considered torture. To make matters worse, any attempts you had made to push Suguru to break the stupid ban himself had gone unnoticed, unbothered, and irritated you beyond all means. You were utterly desperate to get dick down by your fantastic boyfriend, but you still had another four days to go before the ban was up.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

You hummed as you stood at the end of an alley, looking back at your boyfriend, who used his curse technique on the curse you had been fighting into a ball. Suguru rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated his brow. It was a hot one in downtown Tokyo, but you had the perfect way to cool off! One that was sure to ignite the flames of passion deep inside Suguru’s chest.

“Okay,” Suguru said softly as walking towards the entrance of the alley where you were waiting for him, “I just need to swallow, and then we can get back to Jujutsu High. I was thinking maybe we could—” your boyfriend, paused, looking up from the cursed spirit in his palm, watching as you slowly run your tongue along the underside of a popsicle. “When did you have time to grab that?”

“Right when you started working your magic!” Your tongue stained a fluorescent red as the taste of cherry washed over your taste buds. “This cute little shop had them right by the door! Works out perfectly in that summertime Tokyo heat.”

Suguru hummed, eyeing the curse sphere in his hand, bracing himself for what he knew he had to do next. “Would you mind—” he stopped talking as you pushed yourself off the wall, turning to stand before him. You sucked on the cherry popsicle as if it were your boyfriend’s cock. Your cheeks bobbing your head over the sweet, tangy treat, all while maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend. “Princess.”

“Ah~!” you moaned out happily, popping your mouth off the tip of the popsicle. You made sure to lick your lips ever so slowly, hoping they were slightly swollen with all the sucking you had done. “Yes, Suguru~?”

This was it. He would finally break after all of your efforts in the three days! You couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say! Maybe it would be, ‘I can't take this any longer. I need to feel you!’ Or better yet, he might not say anything at all! He might drag you down the dark and take you right there against the brick wall. It would be an adrenaline rush with the prospect of getting caught doing some naughty things in public!

You could feel yourself vibrating with excitement and need. A look that didn’t go unnoticed by your incredibly observant boyfriend. He could see the way that you were pressing your thighs together. Your lips slightly parted at the sound of his voice. And the telltale sign was the fact that your eyes so bluntly focused on his crotch as if you were willing him to get erect. It was almost cute seeing you so eager.

“Make sure there’s no one coming.” The disappointment that flashed across your features like lightning was as clear as a crystal lake. “Go on.”

Your eyebrow twitched with visible anger, and you practically stormed to the end of the alley, looking both ways and ensuring no pedestrians were walking by. “It’s clear.” There was a sour tone to your voice, fully capable of cuddling milk.

“Thank you, darling,” Suguru responded before tilting his head back and popping the curse into his mouth.

The horrendous taste of a rag that was used to wipe up vomit coated his tongue before he was able to swallow the curse down. Once he absorbed the curse, he focused his attention on you to draw away from the horrendous taste that coated his mouth like a film. He usually found himself drawn towards you after he swallowed a curse. You were his anchor, in a way—something to ground himself to without losing himself in the disgusting taste that would drive anyone mad.

Typically, when his dark eyes met yours, he was met with a warm and gentle smile. Only this time, he was met with the burning, lustful gaze as you practically deep-throated a popsicle. Seeing you suck on it before hadn’t been all that distracting, but now that you were getting into it, it was a different story. Your eyes had a far-off gaze as you focused on him. Your head moved up and down over the popsicle, coding it in your saliva as you sucked on it hard.

Seeing you in such a state left Suguru swallowing harder than he had when he swallowed the curse. With each inch you took further into your mouth, you could see a flicker of need in his eyes. This was it—your boyfriend‘s breaking point. Suguru was going to be the one to crash; he was going to be the one to break his ban!

In the blink of an eye, Suguru snarled, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you deeper down the alley. The sudden jerky movement caused you to drop your popsicle, tumbling to the ground and breaking into several uneven pieces. But you didn’t give a fuck about the popsicle! You were more eager to get to be with your boyfriend again finally!

Suguru grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head. His lips met yours in a crash of pure, unfiltered need. The man didn’t even give you a chance to fully understand what was happening or try to match his pace. One, his lips were slanted against yours, and the next, he was showing his tongue into your mouth without even asking for permission by the tip of his tongue slowly over your bottom lip. You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him back, his knee darting between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core.

He pulled away for a moment before slamming his lips back against yours, nearly causing your teeth to clash against each other.his tongue, massage yours, wrapping around the muscle, as you found yourself melting against him, hips, slowly, moving as the taste of cherry slowly enveloped his mouth. His feverish kisses began to cool down as your hips slowly began rocking against his thigh, eager For what else he had to offer you in his alleyway.

But as quickly as the kiss came, it ended. He pulled away, panting heavily as he released his grip on your wrists. You fell forward against his chest, gripping his jacket for support as he removed his knee from between your legs. You were shaking slightly at the arousal that burned through your veins like boiling water. Peering up at your boyfriend, you watched as he licked at the smeared cherry syrup on his lips.

“S-Sugu—what was?!”

“I just had to get the taste of the curse out of my mouth. And since you were so rudely didn’t even offer to get me a popsicle, I decided to make do with what I had. It’s not like Satoru is around to offer me candy. So I decided to taste your popsicle firsthand.”

You felt as though the world was crashing down on you. “I-I—!” Suguru shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, smiling softly, which was sinister with what he had just done to you.

“Did you honestly think that was going to break me? Oh, my sweet Princess, you’d have to do a lot more than that.” he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down the alleyway back to the bustling streets. “You have four days to go, then we can make up for lost time. But by all means, keep up your technique by sucking more popsicles, it may not break me, but I do enjoy the sight of you sucking on it.”

Needless to say you had learned your lesson. You found that out by yourself right then there, standing in an alley after being twat-blocked your boyfriend who was right. You needed to be more careful on your missions, and you definitely would be more careful from now on. Because your boyfriend was not going to ever break a sex ban.

Nanami Kento:

It was hot, and you felt even hotter in every part of your body. You were sitting on your porch watching your husband mow the grass in your backyard. You had offered to do it earlier this week, but he insisted on taking care of it because of how hot it was. The last thing he wanted was for his beautiful wife to get overheated and possibly suffer the consequences of heat stroke.

At first, you weren’t sure if you were insulted or relieved by his request. You wanted to help with the yard work; you had no problem doing that. But Nanami made you a deal: if you did the laundry, he would ensure the yardwork was done, which didn’t seem that fair of a deal to you. Your washing machine and dryer were inside the comfort of your air-conditioned house while your husband was stuck outside in the heat doing yard work.

After you finished the laundry, you changed into a pair of booty shorts and a tank top, fully motivated to get outside and help him finish the yardwork so the two of you could shower and relax for the evening. But the second Nanami spotted you walking down the steps of the porch, heading towards him, he stopped what he was doing and pointed to the chair that was under the shade.

“My love, it’s too hot for you to be out here. I'm almost done. Take a seat. I can handle it.”

“Kento, if you stop being so stubborn, we could get it done faster!” you pleaded with your husband, crossing your arms over your chest.“Just let me help you with weeding the garden!”

Your husband turned the lawnmower off, using the short brake to wipe the sweat Office face with his dirty shirt. “Sweetpea, I already finished picking the weeds; I watered all the plants; all I need to do now is just mow the lawn. So please take a seat and relax. It won’t take me very long.” You wanted to argue with him to tell him that he was being asinine about the whole situation; that stubborn look in his eyes, however, told you there was no persuading him to stop.

With a side of defeat, you back up the stairs of the porch, flopping your ass down in the lounge chair, looking out at him. Nanami smiled, readjusting his baseball hat with a wink before turning the lawn mower back on. Your husband often called you stubborn, but perhaps he needed to take the time to look in the mirror because he was just as stubborn, if not more stubborn than you.

Was it that bad that you wanted to help him out? It wasn’t as though you were some fragile flower incapable of doing yardwork. If you weren't so angry, you would’ve been able to take the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Your sweaty husband roamed around the yard, ensuring it was pristine. Sweat ran down his neck, biceps, and face, making him look as though he was some sort of Greek god.

But he was being childish at the current moment.

Clearly, trying to be an adult and offer your assistance to him wasn’t going to help, and talking to him about trying to persuade him to let you help wasn’t going to work either. There wasn’t much more you could do. Once your husband has made a decision, he typically sticks with it.

But there was one thing even the Nanami Kento couldn't resist on a hot day like this! You hopped out of your chair and rushed back into the house, heading straight for the freezer. You snickered to yourself as you pulled out your secret weapon before returning to the backyard.

Nanami had just turned the lawnmower off again and moved to discard the lawn clippings in the trash bag. He fully set it off to the side, intending to add it to the other compost by the shed you used for your flowers. Sweat ran down his chiseled cheeks, and he was looking forward to getting this done so he could take a very long shower with you. But just as he was about to connect the basket back to the lawnmower, he looked up at you and dropped it to the ground.

You were sitting back in the lounge chair, legs propped up on the porch railing, as you slowly licked around the frozen treat in the waffle cone in your hand. You are pretty tongue-lapped at your favorite frozen flavor, your eyes transfixed on him as you swirled your tongue expertly around the tip of the treat. Watching you do something so lewd on a dessert had Nanami swallowing hard. He suddenly found his basketball shorts were way too tight for comfort.

You had not intended for it to be like this. Your mind was nowhere even close to being in the gutter. Instead, your intentions were innocent. In the long run, your plan had been to entice him with ice cream to take a break in the shade with you. Maybe once he got out of the blazing heat, you would be able to convince him to allow you to help him. Your poor husband thought you were doing something completely different; fortunately, it worked.

His eyes were towards the grass that was cut evenly, aside from the small patches near the back wall that were practically unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know the yard like you or Kento did; it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he didn’t mow it just this once. The lawn society would come and arrest him for missing a minuscule part of the lawn. Besides, it was too damn hot to be out in the yard working in heat like this. Not when you sat on the porch looking at him with narrowed eyes as you lapped seductively at your treat.

A look you hadn’t realized you had even been giving the man. Your intentions had been pure. So you knew you had won when you watched Nanami quickly move across the yard, picking up his yard tools and throwing them in the shed without a care in the world. You silently fist-pumped the aias. Nanami came bounding across the yard with a purpose. There was a look in those honey-brown eyes as he ran up the stairs.

“How sweet of you to join m—mmphm!”

Your frozen dessert falls onto your lap as Nanami tosses his baseball cap off to the side, his hands gripping your face as he kisses you deeply. Your eyes rolled back, your mind completely ignoring the fact that your frozen treat was melting in your lap. All your brain could focus on was kissing Nanami back; everything else fizzled into the background as he lifted you out of the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mhmm—my love.” the moan that left Nanami’s mouth caused the little hairs on your arms to stand as goosebumps rose. “If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask.”

“H-Huh—?” you drunkenly asked as he opened the backdoor, expertly shutting and locking it as his lips moved over your neck. He chucked warm and deep, his face buried in your neck.

You inhaled sharply, whimpering as his teeth grazed over your pulse. “If you wanted me to ravish you this badly, all you needed to do was say so instead of teasing me.” Your mind raced as you suddenly became aware of what he had been talking about.

The ice cream. Your intention to innocently persuade him to join you on the porch to cool off had been misconstrued as a beg for him to stop what he was doing so you could suck him off, maybe even do more. So, the way you saw it, you had two options. Be honest with your husband and tell him you just wanted the home to cool off on the porch as a ploy to convince him to let you help with the yard. Or, go with what he was saying and have steamy, hot shower sex.

“Oh shoot! You caught me! Here, I thought I was being so aloof with my plans!”

Your husband kicks the door to your bedroom open, heading into the bathroom. “Luckily for me, I can read you like a book.” Your fingers run through his slightly damp, sweat-ridden hair, scratching at the undercut as you pull yourself in and kiss him deeply.

“That you do.”

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

The door to the apartment flew open, and you snarled, eyes searching for any sign of your boyfriend. “Kuna!” screamed at the top of your lungs. There was no response, but that didn’t stop you from searching the empty apartment for your teasing boyfriend.

Intentions of making him pay for the relentless teasing he had put you through your workday. It started as an innocent text that said good morning and to have a good day. That innocent message progressed to him saying he missed you, followed by a picture of him lying in bed, his ripped abdomen muscles on full display. The photo in itself is something you were used to, but the images that followed were out of nowhere.

Pictures of his bulge in his basketball shorts came up on your screen. With each picture that showed up, they became more scandalous. The bulge turned into photos of him, groping himself through his pants, the erection clearest day to shots of his tattooed, happy trail all the way up to the base of his cock. Your face flushed as you shielded your phone from the prying eyes of your coworkers. You texted him to knock it off, but that was not easily persuaded. He did what he wanted, and he didn’t give a fuck.

Those scandalous photos turned into Voice Memos that had your panties soaked and your lip raw from how hard you bid it to hold the back whimpers. The man was torturing you, and you had planned to make him suffer as much as he had made you. But now that you were finally off the clock, in the safety of your own home, and the bastard was nowhere to be found!? Typical teasing dick move.

You stormed into the kitchen, searching for something to distract yourself with. Finding a popsicle in the freezer, you unwrapped it just as the front door opened and shut. In a second, you watched as your boyfriend around the corner, dropping his keys on the counter.

“Kitten!” shouted around with hungry desire. “I'm home!”

“Hm.” Instead of responding with the normally warm, enthusiastic welcome, he was greeted with the coldness of a winter storm.

“Oh, don't hm me. What do you say I ma—” His words traveled off as he fixed his gaze on you, witnessing you pushing the pink popsicle into your mouth, sucking on the tip as he blinked before focusing on you.

Teasing wasn’t as fun now that he was the one on the receiving end of it. That’s what you thought. You had been eager to watch his face contort with need. Longing to make him suffer the same way he had made you suffer throughout the entirety of your day. Shortly as you found yourself lost in thoughts, you were met with the dark, almost void look in his crimson eyes.

That almost emotionless look in his eyes, and he didn’t seem bothered by your actions. Instead, you’ve leaned further over the counter, not breaking the eye contact. There was a lot you had been expecting your boyfriend to do in response to your teasing. So you continued to deep-throat the icy treat. But when Soukouna reached into the fruit bowl on the counter, picking up a peach, your eyebrows twitched as you tried to figure out what he intended to do.

A split second passed before Sukuna reached for the knife block. He pulled out the pairing knife, still maintaining icon contact. You walked, and your boyfriend sliced into the fruit. Its sweet juices beat against the fuzzy skin. The second peach was split in half. Sukuna grabbed the pit of the peach, throwing it into the sink.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, continuing to suck on the popsicle in a very messy manner. Was he seriously going to sit there and eat a peach without saying anything? Before you could even continue to question his intentions, you came to the shocking realization that he wasn’t going to eat the peach.

Your big buff boyfriend leaned over the counter himself, holding the peach in one hand while the other gripped the counter with his other. You watched as his pierced tongue slid out of his mouth slowly, lapping at the inside of the peach; in a way, he typically ate you out. He ran his piercing over the indent of the peach where Sukuna re the tip of the pit was, where your clit would be. He ran his tongue over that spot over and over before his tongue slid back down, lapping over the juicy peach.

Watching him lapping at the peach in such a seductive manner made you choke at first. Your boyfriend snickered as he kept his burning gaze focused solely on you. What the fuck? Why was this so erotic?! Watching him eating out a peach, you were suddenly jealous.

“What’s wrong, Kitten?” He purred out cocking an eyebrow. The juices from the peach smeared over his mouth as he pulled away. “You can dish it out but can’t take it?”

“Mhmm~!” You hummed out aggressively, swirling your tongue over the top of the popsicle. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered, running the tip of your tongue over what you pretended was the slit of your boyfriend's cock.

“Ah, okay, I see. You can pretend you’re not imagining that popsicle as my thick cock, but I’m pretending this.” He held the peach up. “Is your sweet cunt.”

His words sent fire to pool in your abdomen. “O-oh yeah?” You questioned as if you didn’t know that’s what he was doing.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t compare to you.” He growled as he flicked his tongue over the peach. “You’re so much wetter, sweeter, and make the prettiest sounds. I’d much rather bury my head between your thighs.”

“Yet you’re still licking the peach.”

“And you're still deepthroating a fucking popsicle.”

You weren’t going to break down first! You refused to when he had started the teasing this morning while you were at work. Even if the popsicle melted you had a freezer full of them to continue this stupid game.

“Mmm~haaah~” Sukuna moaned softly, flicking his tongue over the peach in strategic swipes, ones you were familiar with. “S,” Sukuna hummed before you watched his tongue quickly dip down, “U,” the pink tongue darted down before two quick flicks followed, “K—”

You were a liar.

You threw the popsicle to the floor before snatching the peach away from your boyfriend and throwing it into the sink. Your boyfriend's smirk didn’t even have a chance to tug at the corner of his mouth as you yanked him closer to you by the straps of his tank top. Not expecting you to falter so quickly, Sukuna barely had time to process what was happening before he was dragged around the kitchen island, where your lips slammed against his.

All cocky attitudes joined the discarded peach pit in the sink as you both threw yourselves at each other. The sweet, sticky taste of peaches and strawberries collapsed in a kaleidoscope of flavors as your tongues massaged each other as you fell to the tile floor, wrapping your limbs around your boyfriend. Clothes were tugged off, and belts were unbuckled before moans flooded the apartment, and neither of you intended to stop until you were a sticky, sweaty mess.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

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wildandsmile · 5 months

Note

commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much

Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you

Total Wc. 1.1k

Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare

An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah

Rin

He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.

But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.

There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.

Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.

And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck

You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, and you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."

Sae

He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.

You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.

But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And after how wet you get just for his fangs

He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.

He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.

"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look at pet look at you getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itch the tip of your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”

Kunigami (Wild Card)

• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.

• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.

• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.

• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.

• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."

Nagi

Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game

• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.

• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.

• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.

• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.

"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and does a long lap across your leg before biting you and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."

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leth-writes · 29 days

Text

yandere batfam x reader who's scared of them

BRUCE

If you don’t know he’s batman, he’s absolutely confused. He doesn’t really understand how you could be terrified of his civilian identity, who is notably soft and ditzy. It’s hard for you to explain how scary it is, looking at his smiling face in the middle of a gala and feeling this ice running down your spine, the deepest, basest part of you just screaming at you that there’s something wrong with him. It’s the way his emotions don’t reach his eyes, those cold, calculating eyes… It feels to you that he’s, at any given time, calculating how likely he is to get away with you murder.

That isn’t what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about how angry he is that everyone’s not treating you with the respect you deserve; he’s seen more consideration given to a coatrack! He’s contemplating yelling at your parent(s) to get them to realize how uncomfortable you are. That paternal sense just jumps right out and he’s wishing violence on anyone who would dare to so much as breathe at you wrong. You can see the promise of violence brewing on his face, you just mistake who it’s targeted at. He promises he would never hurt you.

Being frightened of batman is a lot more understandable, he is quite creepy. He tends to blend in with the shadows, and having a vigilante running around beating people senseless can be pretty terrifying. If he catches you being robbed, for example, Dick’s going to have to pull him off of whoever hurt you before he sends them into a coma. Seeing all that blood flying is definitely pretty scary.

However, Batman also serves as a protector for the city, especially children, and he does view you as a child, no matter your age. You’re his child, and he’d never want to scare you, so he exaggerates his movements and puts a bit of noise in his step so he’s less likely to scare you

He also gets Damian to approach you; while Damian may not be the typical child, he’s more than capable of acting young and vulnerable and that brings down your guard, allowing Bruce to ingratiate himself with you. Damian’s just excited to be close to you, he doesn’t even care you’re babying him and giving him stickers. He wears them with pride and shows every one to Alfred and his various animals.

DICK

Everyone is so confused as to how you could find Dick, smiley, jokey Dick, so scary. He’s so kind and gentle, perfect with children… maybe it’s the way you can see right through that facade into the intelligent seething rage boiling away within him. People often forget that Dick, as a young child, was more than willing to commit murder. He’s grown a lot since then, but sometimes that rage peaks through, terrifying you. You can also tell the bruises aren’t from sex or gymnastics like he says when the paparazzi ask, but from fights. You haven’t heard anything about the people he got into a fight in, which leads you to believe they never got up again. You’re wrong, but you can definitely feel the violence pulsing just underneath his skin. Every vigilante has it, you’re just able to sense it.

As Nightwing, he’s used to people asking him for selfies or yelling at him to do a backflip. He isn’t used to people trembling, terrified, in a corner as he approaches. You seem to view him as a dangerous vigilante, an extension of the Bat, first and foremost. Dick has to work hard to get you to trust him; he purposefully messes up some of his fights just so you think he isn’t as dangerous as he is, and he doesn’t let you in on the fact that the escrima have electricity. It puts you at ease if you think he would have a hard time taking you down. He relies on that goofy aspect of himself, pulling it up more than he normally would, almost tapping into that little circus performer who he buried deep down so many years ago.

JASON

Yeah, he gets it. His reputation, while useful, does preceed him. He’s heard the rumours; that he’s a zombie, a vampire, a ghoul, some creature back from the dead to kickstart some apocalyptic event. He usually finds it laughable, but seeing how terrifying you are does hit him hard.

He’s done so much to bury who he used to be, but for you, he taps into that side of him. He reads Jane Austen in public, volunteers at homeless shelters that he normally only donates to, anything to give himself a softer image. He even lets his hair keep its natural curls, letting them grow out slightly, to give him a softer silhouette. He also starts dressing more like Bruce; soft sweaters tucked into his pants, accentuating the pretty streak of white in his hair.

He’s also more than aware of how scary his scars can be, and tries his best to distract you away from them; for a little while, you rarely see him fully face-on, he turns his head just slightly so you can’t see them as clearly.

The Red Hood is terrifying. He’s aware, he knows, he’s dealing with it for you. He stops with the killing almost entirely and spends more time just patrolling your neighborhood, trying to get you used to the positives his presence is associated with. He lets Clark finally publish those positive stories about him saving a kitten or something, all to rehabilitate his image. He doesn’t care that his reputation is taking a hit, he only cares about you not being terrified of him.

TIM

???

Tim isn’t used to people being scared of him. Plenty of people are intimidated by his ruthless businessman act, but he never uses that around you. He tends to play up that scrawny, dorky nerd side of him; most view him like a little vulnerable puppy, not a threat!

You can probably sense that analytical presence behind his eyes. Tim, while technically being the most hands-off, is also the one who does the most meddling behind the scenes. He’s working to get rid of those shitty friends, blackmailing them away from you, and making sure to surround you with people he trusts, particularly Cass, Kon, and Steph. They talk him up, but more importantly, he knows they’ll keep you safe if he can’t.

You can probably tell your new friends are hiding something, and you sense that Tim is at the center. You’re not entirely wrong. Like Jason, he dresses in soft, cozy clothing and spends hours practicing his soft, gentle smiles, all in the hopes of you thinking him too weak and exhausted to be a threat.

He’s had criminals dislike him as Red Robin, but most civilians either appreciate him or ignore him. Most opinions are actually quite lukewarm, as while he does play a role in policing crime, he works more in the background solving cases and using his computer and photography skills. He makes sure to be seen being soft to children and animals more, maybe even volunteers in suit at an animal shelter, all in the hopes you’ll see that caring heart shining through.

CASS

Cass is so soft in public no one could ever be scared of that side of her unless they’ve already been kidnapped, in which case she slowly wears them down by having her family talk her up and by being the one to bring in gifts and food, creating a strong association between her and those good feelings of stress relief. Works like a charm, especially because you learn to read her; then, you learn to read the softness in her smile and her posture, showing that kind heart.

in stark contrast, plenty of people are scared of Black Bat, including civilians. Her normal silent presence and lack of facial expression can come across quite creepy. There’s no way around that, so she only introduces you to her secret identity after you’ve been kidnapped.

#yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere Cassandra Cain #yandere Dick Grayson #yandere Bruce Wayne #yandere Jason Todd #yandere Tim Drake #lethwrites

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im-am-not-a-weenie · 9 months

Text

🍓playing with their hair for the first time

Writing bg3 hc Now! Will also still be doing rdr2 a/n at the bottom for more info! spelling errors

Gn Reader

Gale, astarion,halsin,

Establish relationships

🍓Gale

You see Gale sitting all alone enjoying a good book. He always looked cute when he was enjoying what he was reading, he looked so concentrated and expressive

You couldn’t help but walk over to the wizard. “Mind if I join you?”. He smiled and patted the ground beside him “Of course, what’s better than a good book? Good company to share it with”

You sat down and made yourself comfortable ” What are you reading” You looked curiously over at the book in the wizard's hands. “Ah, It’s nothing really, just another tail of dragons and knights. I could read it aloud if you wish?”

He looked a bit nervous “On second thought you’ve probably grown tired of hearing my voice”. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze “Never”

You laid back, Gale didn’t look very comfortable, being hunched over “Here,” you said sweetly and pulled him down so his head was on your lap “Better?” He looked a little stiff but quickly regained his composure “Yes, yes it’s quite nice”

As He started to read Your hand absentmindedly went to his hair, and your fingers started to card through his brown locks, you felt him tense but then relax back into it

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back listening to him read, but after a long you heard him trail off, opening one of your eyes to peek at him you could see he was starting to doze

With a smile, you gently took the book out of his hands “Huh?” He opened his eyes to look at you. ”you were falling asleep” your hand still in his hair

“Could You…could you maybe keep doing that?” Gale mutters sheepishly. You just laughed softly and smiled

That night Gale fell asleep with a smile on his face and your hands in his hair

🍓astarion

The party decided it would be best to stay at a tavern that night, treating themselves and of course, astarion headed straight towards where the bath was located

It had been an hour and still no sign of him, getting a tad bit worried you decided to go check on him, you knocked on the door softly “Star? Are you alright in there?” You were met with a muffled “Yes darling quite alright”

After a few minutes you hesitantly “Can…can I come in?" he automatically responded with a "Yes darling"

as you opened the door thick clouds of steam poured out. "hurry my love, we wouldn't want it to get cold in here now would we?" astarion was sitting in a bath you could only assume was boiling hot water "Star, how hot is that bath? your skin is red" he waved off your concern

"now what did you need?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was hoping to join you honestly" his expression dropped as he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it

"You can say no" your voice filled with nothing but love and encouragement. he hesitates for a moment before finally saying "It's just I don't believe the tub would be big enough for us both that's all" he flashed you a charming smile. you knew there was a deeper reason but didn't push

"i was actually thinking of just sitting in here with you. Would that be ok?' he looked taken aback "You just wish to sit here with me that's all?" you gave a nod "Well I mean who wouldn't want to sit here and marvel at my beauty, go ahead"

as he reached for the soap you beat him to it "Here let me." pouring a generous amount of soap into your hands, making your way behind him, first lathering the soap in your hands before sinking them into his hair

"What are you doing?" his body tensed up slightly. "washing your hair what does it look like" teased him with a sweet voice as your fingers gently massaged his head. "I get that darling but why?" his voice sounded unsure, not used to non-sexual intimacy.

"Because I love you, and you deserve to get pampered" his breath caught in his throat and quickly cleared it "Of course I do, I'm glad we're on the same page." you gave him a small laugh as you kept washing his hair, he closed his eyes and lent back into your hands. you swear you could hear him purring

you both sat in comfortable silence until he softly said "I love you too" You could hear the faint smile on his lips without having to see it

🍓Halsin

this morning was a rare morning, not only did you wake up early voluntarily, but you woke before Halsin which never happened. (to be fair he just got back from a long and exhausting journey but still!)

waking up feeling warm. not sure if it was because of how the sun was hitting your face or because of the giant man holding you close to him

your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the sight of a sleeping Halsin. he looked peaceful. the sun made him look radiant, glowing almost, as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. something else caught your eye. he had his hair down

yes his hair was always down but it was always pulled back, but this morning it sprawled messily over his pillow, and a couple stray strands laid on his face. you couldn't help but reach out and brush it away

his eyebrows frowned before he quietly spoke "Your hands are cold" You quickly retracted your hand. "sorry" you whispered back, Halsins eyes opened slolwy. blinking away the sleep, he smiled and grabbed your hand and placed it back on his cheek, and kissed the palm of your hand. "it's ok my heart"

you could feel your face heat up all you could do was smile dumbly "It's down" was all you said and tucked a few more pieces behind his ear. "does it bother you my heart?' you shook your head, all too eager to see the druid with his hair down. "no, I like it"

running your hand through his usually well-kept hair. "how is it so soft" you wondered out loud, Halsin just chuckled and let you have your fun.

he let out a content sigh. "awfully affectionate this morning. not that I mind" his lips pressed against your forehead. "Is something the matter?"

"no, I just missed my bear that's all" You studied his face, taking in every detail. "I think I finally understand the whole "appreciate nature's gift" thing." the druid just laughed warmly and shook his head fondly

the two of you spent all morning like that. his arms wrapped around you and you playing with his hair

🍓A/N

hey guys im back! so much as happened i graduated and im 19 now? life has been crazy!! i know this is different from my usual content but playing baulders gate gave me inspiration to write again. dont worry i will still take requests for RDR2 but i will also be writing for BG3. With that said im cleaning out my inbox so if you see your request finally go through a year later.............🤷‍♀️. i will also be taking BG3 requests. i did astarion, gale, and halsin i think i can write them comfortably. but do not be scared to request other characters if you really wanna see me write for them or have a really specific scenario in mind. i will also try to post every other Wednesday

love yall and thx for the support <3

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x reader #halsin #halsin x reader

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angel-munson · 1 year

Text

stevie doesn't know

warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), use of petnames, cheating, phone sex (kinda), slight use of "daddy", choking, multiple orgasms, protective eddie with his fuck buddy

pairing: eddie munson x female (afab) reader

summary: your boyfriend steve cheats on you all the time. your vengeance comes in the form of eddie, who you're secretly hooking up with. when the phone rings during one of your sneaky sessions, a three-way call might be the way stevie finally finds out...[6.8k]

—inspired by "scotty doesn't know" by lustra—

a/n: i had this idea while listening to this song and HAD to write it. this is one of my first times writing smut, i'm still practicing! enjoy ♡

Your boyfriend Steve couldn't help but be a douche sometimes. Most times, actually.

You should have known dating Hawkins' most infamous ladies man might be problematic before you even started. His stupidly perfect hair and ability to smooth talk made you believe he might be different with you.

The first time you caught him with another girl, you didn't want to believe it. And because you were naïve and try to see the best in people, you stayed with him.

Unfortunately for you, there was a next girl. And another. And then another one after that. The cheating reached a point where you almost expected it to happen and even grew apathetic to it.

You stayed with Steve out of fear of being alone, and because that's all you knew how to do. That was until you became acquainted with the notoriously odd and intimidating Eddie Munson.

It started one night when you were buying weed from him. He'd told you to come by the trailer he lives in, claiming that he kept his "good stuff" there. You were surprised to find out how funny and kind the older male was.

He was a total flirt, making you smile and laugh in ways that King Steve never even came close to. That's how smoking a joint with him turned into the best sex you ever had, each having an earth-shattering orgasm on his stained mattress.

That one-time thing turned into a routine, squeezing in a quickie any chance you got. His place, yours, his van in the school parking lot, under the bleachers...

You and Eddie were addicted to each other, drawn together like magnets. The connection only got stronger the more time you spent together. He made you feel more than just physical pleasure...he made you comfortable.

After a shitty day, you went by the tattooed male's place hoping to forget your troubles. You ended up crying in his arms and telling him about everything on your mind. Eddie cared, he really cared about you.

That's why his blood was boiling when you told him about Steve. He could never believe that the douchey brunette got to have you, the coolest girl in town; hearing how he was treating you made him want to "rearrange Steve's face".

Slowly, you became more than just fuck buddies. It was a complicated situation, especially with how passionate the sex got at some points. Fingers laced together, longing gazes into each other's eyes, tender kisses, and sweet nothings.

You felt guilty for cheating on Steve even though he had been doing worse to you for about a year. Eddie encouraged you, never letting you feel bad about it. And how could you argue when he was inches deep inside you, calling you pretty and making you feel amazing?

He was doing exactly that now, thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt as he knelt behind you. Your upper body was limp against the bed, back arching as Eddie held your hips up. He gave your ass a firm smack, watching the recoil with a groan.

"Mmn, fuck, Eds," you moaned, face down in your pillows. The laud only spurred him on, encouraged him to pull you back against his fat cock.

"Yeah? You love being fucked like this, baby?" he grunted deep from his chest. The pet name made your walls clench around him like they always do. It drives Eddie crazy.

The slapping of your skin together halts when he pulls your ass flush with his hips, making the bulging tip of his dick push the soft spot inside you. You whimpered and reached back, searching for somewhere to hold on. Your sweaty hand found Eddie's forearm and you squeezed it firmly when he started gyrating.

The rolling motion he's making with his hips allowed him to fuck you insanely deep without ever leaving your pussy. His ringed hand slid down beneath you to your clit, three calloused fingers working it perfectly as he's done thousands of times.

"Oh my god," you pant, feeling a warmth tingle in your lower abdomen. "'M gonna cum. P-please, please."

The sound of you begging even though Eddie always gives you what you want made him chuckle darkly. He pulled out his dick merely a couple of inches, looking down at where you were swallowing him in. A creamy ring surrounded the base of his length, a sight that made him twitch as he pushed all the way back in to continue his motion.

Just as your whining picked up and you were about to cum, your phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Eddie's hand on your clit stopped and he slowed his thrusts as you groaned, annoyed.

"Does that asshole have to ruin everything for me?!" you bitched, already knowing it was your shitty boyfriend. You pushed your ass back, hoping to fuck yourself on Eddie although your climax was already ruined by the shrill ringing. "He can wait."

The curly-haired boy watched the part of your face he could see, laying against the pillow with reddened cheeks. He read the frustration on your face and bent down to kiss your shoulder blade. His hand slithered up your body, pinching at your hardened nipple.

He hummed a pleased noise when you clamped down around his length. When he was about to start back up, the phone sounded again.

"Oh my fucking god," you hissed, reaching to unplug it from the wall.

Eddie took hold of your bicep, stopping you. When you looked back, the expression on his face was one of deviance. He smirked from beneath his dark, fringed bangs and your heart sank.

"Answer it."

"What?" You couldn't believe what he'd said.

"Pick up the phone," he began, and his voice took on a devilish tone. "Have a conversation with your boyfriend."

"That's it?" you questioned. "No catch."

"Only one. I want you to be quiet. Don't give it away."

"Give wha-" Your words were snatched away when Eddie pulled his dick out with a wet schlick, plunging two fingers in as the replacement.

A high-pitched scream tore through your throat as he began to fuck you filthily with his digits. They weren't as thick as his cock, but the ferocity of his movements made you require a moment to recover.

"Pick up the phone and talk, sweetheart," he spoke with a steady voice, a talent of his you were consistently amazed by. He brought his face down to kiss the plush area around your ass and hips. When you didn't grab the telephone fast enough for his liking, he brought his teeth down on the skin.

You squealed, biting your lip and regaining your composure as you lifted the phone to your ear.

"Hello?" You swallowed thickly, hearing your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

"Hey, babe. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday." You rolled your eyes at Steve's lie. "What are you up to?"

"Me? Oh, nothing much, just-"

Eddie began to scissor his fingers inside you. His lips pressed to the unoccupied area of your slick sex, lapping up the juices as quietly as he could. Your free hand slammed onto the mattress on its own accord, grabbing a handful of the floral sheets for purchase.

"Talk, baby," Eddie breathed against your core. He licked a stripe up your fold and blew on it before introducing a third finger in your swollen hole. You pulled the phone away temporarily to whine.

"Just watching some TV and working on homework," you lied, letting the words out a little too quickly.

"Oh, that sounds fun." Steve's totally not listening to you. "I saw that 'Risky Business' is playing at the drive-in this weekend."

"Cool. That's the one with Tom Cruise?"

Eddie chuckled when you squirm as he removed his fingers, creating a sinful noise. He saw the way your thighs were shaking and pushed your hips down to level you flat on the bed. He hovered over you, caging you beneath him as he moved his face to where you could see him.

You met his eyes that were hooded with a teasing hunger you can't stand. He sucked on the fingers that were just inside you, cleaning your slick off as he moaned quietly enough that Steve didn't hear.

"Yeah, that one," Steve's voice sounded, though it's impossible to focus on anything but Eddie.

"I was thinking we could go see it. It'd be like old times."

As Steve started to detail the date, Eddie crawled back down to part your legs with his large hands. You brought your hand from the sheets to your mouth, covering it as his plump lips start to kiss their way up the insides of your thighs.

"We could park in the back, bring some booze..." Steve's voice rambled on as Eddie's lips finally connect where you want him most.

He began to eat you out from behind, sucking and swirling his tongue in combinations that had you grinding yourself on the mattress, desperate for some more friction. Your mind went blank when he flattened his long tongue on your clit.

"Are you listening to me?" Steve snapped.

"Y-yes. I'm listening," you struggled to respond back. "Go ahead."

Hearing this makes Eddie laugh, vibrating against your dripping cunt. The sensation shot you closer to your orgasm and he could tell from the way your hole gaped around nothing.

"Pretty pussy," he spoke against it, though you can barely hear him. "Needy for her daddy, huh? So naughty. Gonna cum on my tongue while she talks to her boyfriend."

You caught the last part and made a fist, biting down as Eddie prodded his long tongue into your slit. And because he's greedy and wants to taste your orgasm, his thumb skillfully circled your clit.

"No one can see us so we don't really need to watch the movie..." Steve chuckled and you would surely roll your eyes if they weren't already back in your skull from Eddie's ruthless assault on your pussy.

"Sounds like you just wanna get in my pants, Stevie," you shot back, voice steadier than it had been because he was really bothering you. This made Eddie growl an animalistic sound.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous, but he is. Especially now when he's buried in your cunt, the one you've told him he owns so many times before. He knows Steve can't make you feel half as good as he does, can't fuck you the way he does, can't love you the way he does.

With a final slurping sound, he abandoned the idea of pulling an orgasm out with his mouth. He lost all self-control; he needed to be as deep as you can take him rightfuckingnow. You barely had time to register the fact that he stopped licking you before he roughly tugged your ass back up in the air.

"I didn't mean it like that, I just...We haven't gone past second base in forever." Steve's ridiculous words were drowned out when Eddie slammed back into your pussy.

It welcomed him, wet and stretched out from everything he'd given you so far. He faced hardly any resistance stuffing his generous length all the way to the end of you. The backs of your thighs smack his pelvis as he started to drill into you with an unforgiving pace.

You screamed, loud and high-pitched into the receiver. Your upper body sank and you attempted to hold yourself up on your elbows. This only added to the pleasure as your blushed nipples rubbed the cotton sheets, tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Babe? What was that?" Steve stopped mid-sentence to question you.

It was a challenge trying to straighten out your thoughts when you could feel Eddie in your throat. He's hitting such a delicious angle, one that prods the spongey end of you so forcefully it's teetering on the edge of pain.

"N-no..." you stuttered, holding out the vowel as you fail to soothe your boyfriend's suspicion. "Nothing. Something f-fell off the shelf and scared me."

The words came out rushed, all weaved together in one single breath. Each time the metalhead thrust in and out, he stole away your oxygen. His large, rough hands squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to pull you against him. His thick cock was splitting you apart, emptying and filling you to bust at the seams at a frantic speed.

A dark chuckle spilled from the plump lips of the male behind you and he could still taste you on his tongue. The realization made him groan, dropping his head back as sweaty tendrils of cocoa hair tickled the backs of his shoulders.

Without warning, he slowed suddenly. You were about to whine at him before Steve's droning voice on the phone reminded you of the secrecy you were beginning to fail at maintaining.

The metal of Eddie's rings bit your skin when he squeezed firmly on your left hip. This was one of his signals for when he wanted to switch positions or have you take over.

He was able to guide you without words, your heated body pliant beneath his dominant touch. His cock never left your pulsating core as he relaxed his position back, kneeling on the mattress.

Your legs bent around his as you sat back against his lap. His chest pressed flush against the curve of your spine as you wriggled, adjusting your seating. The position would allow you to reverse ride him using the strength of your thighs.

The curled cord of the phone was stretched out to reach where you were. The douchey brunette on the other line was telling a story about some party he and Tommy had gone to, laughing at his own words as he recalled the memory and tried to omit the parts about him hooking up with other girls.

Eddie's one hand settled against your hip while the other smoothed its way up your side. It started at the soft pooch of your tummy, up to your heavy tits to tweak the hardened peaks, and finally to a gentle grip on your neck. His long fingertips reached up to tilt your chin forward as he clamped around the thundering veins near your throat.

As you breathed a strangled gasp under his touch, he forced you to look up where the reflection of you two stared back in the mirror atop your dresser. The sight of his hand of rings wrapped around your neck as you were seated on his cock made you moan, a noise that was cut short by the pressure from his choking.

You weren't sure who looked more fucked out, you or him. Usually, Eddie was great at keeping his composure, but the look he had in his eyes when you met them in the mirror was...feral. Rabid, exhausted, lustful, on the brink of losing it.

He took in the sinful sight of you. The way your head was hanging limply on his shoulder, drool glistening at the corner of your lips from the aggressive pounding you'd just taken. Your grip on the telephone was weak, leaving it to slide low on your neck as your sweaty hand could barely stay up.

"Come on, pretty," he rasped hotly in your ear. "Take what you need from me."

With a breath in for preparation, you lifted yourself up slowly. As you hollowed out, your cunt drooled down every inch of him and onto his balls, heavy and wound tight with his impending release. You cried out when you dropped your ass back down, spearing his bulging tip into your guts.

You began a steady pace, bouncing yourself on his dick and swallowing the whimpers that came when he stretched your hole continually. Eddie thrust his hips upward to meet your movement. This only wedged him deeper into your sex, nudging your uterus and launching you toward climax.

Steve was ranting about how much he loved having a pretty girlfriend and that he'd make it up to you for how busy he's been lately. You pulled the phone away, clamping a hand over the lower speaker as you switched to gyrating your hips in circular motions.

"F-fuck, Eddie. So good, so, so..." you babbled.

His rugged hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises you were making. On your neck, his hot mouth sucked and nipped.

"Gotta stay quiet, sweets. Pick up the phone and keep talking," he ordered.

"But, da-"

"Don't be a brat," he barked. A particularly sharp thrust upward punched the air from your lungs. "Don't you wanna be good for me? Want me to let you cum?"

You nodded with such vigor Eddie thought it must've hurt your neck. He removed his hand from your mouth and smacked a wet kiss onto your temple.

"That's my girl."

Your cunt fluttered around him, giving you away. You loved how possessive he could get and he knew it. Maybe it was because he cared and wanted you to be his...that was more than your actual boyfriend ever did.

Taking a deep breath in, you brought the phone back up to your ear to find Steve finishing up his ridiculous ramble.

"How are you gonna make it up to me, big boy?" you uttered, exerting all your effort to sound natural.

The tattooed male grunted beneath you and encased both your hips with his large hands. He used his strength to lift you up and drop you back down on his fat cock. It was a challenge keeping the sound of slapping skin to a minimum, especially when his brain was this fuzzy.

His dark eyes kept darting between the mirror and his lap. One allowed him to watch himself pumping in and out, your cunt stretched wide around his girth and soaking down to the coiled tufts of hair at his base. Your ass jiggled each time and the skin reddened from the roughness.

The mirror was his favorite view: you, coming undone from how incredible he was making you feel. Your body was littered with love bites, places he'd nipped at for hours that evening. The sight of your breasts, full and flushed as they swayed with the motions, was making him lose it.

When he ever looked at your pretty face, Eddie had to tighten the muscles of his abdomen to hold off his orgasm.

Your head was lolled back into the crook of his shoulder. Sweat-damp wisps of hair were glued to the sides of your pink cheeks. Your eyebrows were knit together, creased in the middle as you worked to stay quiet. Saliva glistened where it trailed down from your swollen lips, stuck open with small breathy pants.

He needed to make you cum now because it was growing impossible for him not to.

Steve was spewing some bullshit about flowers and taking you to Enzo's for dinner. You nearly laughed thinking about how the last time he did that, he flirted with the waitress and ogled at her ass right in front of you. It blended into white noise when Eddie increased his efforts.

He leaned back slightly, the sticky skin of his chest leaving your back to allow a needed swath of cool air. Two calloused fingertips pressed to your sensitive nub and begin to play you like his most prized guitar. That alone was pushing your stimulation to the brink of exploding, but he wasn't done yet.

The lanky male returned to thrusting upward into you again with more fervor this time. Rather than just stroke straight up, he used his hips to direct himself in different directions, at multiple angles.

His massive cock pioneered its way into places you'd never felt him before. You could feel the thundering of his veins as he stretched out new channels in your pussy.

"H-hmn," you bit down on moans. "Mmn, hngh."

It didn't take much more for you to lose yourself. The band in your stomach that had been pulled taught since before the phone even rang finally snapped. A pathetic whine rose from your chest as your body quivered, seizing up and then falling limp.

"Oh, fuck," Eddie spat, about to come undone himself. His throat choked up as he continued to ram upward, quickly chasing his own orgasm as you became a rag-doll in his lap.

Your juices trickled down his skin as he pumped into you a few more times. His whimpering blended with your heavy-breathed panting as he came deep inside your cunt.

The sound of his ragged moans and sharp cussing was almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. When you came back down to earth, he'd already recovered from his climax.

"Shh-shh," Eddie soothed. Your slit throbbed as the milky mess you two made warmed where you remain connected. He pulled your back flush to his inked chest. "Took me so well, honey. I've got you."

The bad boy being that sweet to you though he fucked you so ruthlessly made you melt into his touch. Your eyes drooped and a single tear streamed down. The sensation inside your chest was red-hot, passionate; deeper than something you should be feeling for your fuck buddy...

Coming had caused such a blackout in your mind that you didn't register Steve speaking to you until he shouted through the phone.

"Hello?! Did you hear what I said?"

"S-sorry." You struggled to hide the exhaustion in your voice. "What?"

"What the hell was that noise? Are you watching porn or something?" he pushed, clearly irritated.

You weren't sure what to say...he had definitely heard your keening as you came, probably Eddie too. Would he be dumb enough to believe a lie?

"It's just the TV. Some overdone sex scene, I dunno," you responded.

Eddie wrapped his strong arms around you to help you relax against him, giving your worn-out body a rest. Your abused cunt fluttered upon feeling his warm release spilling out around his softened length.

"Oh. Okay. Well, turn it down," Steve requested. Wow, he is dumb enough to believe it.

Miraculously, your boyfriend went right back to blabbering. He loved to talk when it was about himself; he switched to the topic of how his dad was forcing him to get a job at the mall for not getting into college.

You almost felt bad since he doesn't really have anyone to talk to. He always dumps it on you, and you let him no matter how shitty he is to you.

Your mind doesn't have time to wander that way as the metalhead picked you up, pulling out and admiring the mess you made. The hollow feeling as your gaping hole clenched on nothing made you wince.

Eddie's soft hands laid you down with your back on the mattress. It felt nice to be horizontal again, able to let yourself settle in with limbs that felt like Jell-O. You rolled your head to the left, trapping the phone between your ear and shoulder so you didn't have to hold it up anymore.

With heavy eyelids, you glanced up at where the long-haired boy was. He was standing at the foot of the bed, taking a long drag of the cigarette he'd abandoned in the bedside ashtray. You two held gazes as he blew out a grey cloud.

"Want some?" he mouthed to you. You nodded, eyes blown open with luster. The springs of the mattress creaked beneath his weight as he leaned on a knee, outstretching his tattooed arm.

"What about The Gap? Or Herman's Sporting Goods?" you suggested to Steve's need for a job.

After the words left you, Eddie held the filtered end up to your lips. You laid a gentle hand on his forearm and swept the pad of your thumb over the freckled skin. The deep inhale of tobacco was a welcome indulgence after the body-shaking orgasm you had.

The sight of you was trouble, however.

Eddie could feel the blood rushing back to his crotch again already. As he backed up, you caught sight of his cock, red and hardening. His sex drive never failed to impress you; that's why most times you left his place being unable to walk.

He couldn't handle it. How beautiful and fucked-out you looked laying there. Your body, every curve and dip, was glimmering with a sheen of sex. His marks were all over you: from hickeys to bruising indents of his rings, to his cum dribbling out of your sweet center.

His heart was throbbing, perhaps even more painfully than his dick was.

It stood upright against his toned stomach as his gaze dragged across you. The Harrington boy recounted his failures of the jobs he'd already applied for while you twisted the rubber-coated cord around your finger.

The image of the older male needy for you again had you rubbing your bare thighs together. He was undeniably the most attractive guy you'd ever seen. Never before had you had this level of sexual chemistry and spark with someone. It's like he unlocked something in you, took away your fears, and maximized your pleasure in all things.

"Jesus," he muttered.

You two moved in sync, your hand traveling up your own body as he brought an uneasy hand down to palm himself. His tip glistened with pearlescent pre-cum when your red-painted fingernails cupped your breast. You squeezed down just enough for the fat to spill between your knuckles, putting on a show.

Apparently, your stamina had built up since being involved with Eddie. You beckoned him closer with a curling pointer finger.

"Need you," you let the words ghost out. And because he would do anything you say, the boy crawled atop you so his frizzed curls hung down around your face.

You gripped the midsection of the phone to secure Steve's increasingly-irritating voice against your ear. The lower speaker pressed into your shoulder, hopefully an effective agent for muffling noise.

Two of your nimble fingers hooked around Eddie's dangling necklace to pull him down. His mouth was gentle on yours, a newfound softness to ease back in. It was a nice break from the rushed heat of the past hours and still turned you on an immense amount.

There wasn't much foreplay this time. Eddie's diamond-hard cock sank inside you easily as you made out lazily. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your puffy cunt, a pathetic sound that he swallowed as you passed it onto his skillful tongue.

"Do you think Coach would be one of my references?" Steve's questioning intonation snagged your attention before it got too foggy. You hummed against Eddie's lips and your unspoken language got him to pull away.

"Mm, maybe...who else do you have?" you mumbled. As you turned your head to the receiver, the long-haired male kissed your cheek and temple. He then nuzzled his face into your neck.

It was a momentary break for him, pausing to breathe in your scent and become intoxicated with you. It was something he did when he was feeling clingy, needy for you; a confusion in his mind on why he felt so intimately connected to his friend with benefits.

"Perfect girl. He doesn't deserve you," Eddie slurred with hot fanning breaths. "Gonna make you forget him. Gonna fuck you so good you can't remember his dumb name..."

As he grumbled in one of your ears, Steve was in the other, justifying that he used his mom as a reference. You urged him to think of other people and asked him about places in town that he thought would be fun to work at; you knew this would send him into more verbose blabbing.

Your purposeful inquisition worked and your boyfriend's words became garbled nonsense as you shifted attention back to the pretty boy on top of you.

He had begun to thrust, slow and sloppy. The movement was enough to increase your two's breathing and arousal. He accompanied it with wet kisses along your neck, suckling the tender skin every so often.

"More," you huffed. Your fingers twisted in the roots of Eddie's hair and tugged softly, emitting a groan from his throat.

"More what, sweets? Hm?" he urged, lifting his face up to see you. He was super talkative in the bedroom, so it was killing him trying to tone it down since you were on the phone.

"M-more Eddie."

He puffed air through his nostrils in amusement and forced his cock a tad deeper in you. His hips continually met yours as you felt every veiny detail of him gliding inside. The whine that left you was unintentionally loud, neediness pricking momentary irrationality in you.

Hearing you asking for more him had Eddie's world spinning and cock pulsing.

"'M gonna give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me," he grunted. "Just a little longer."

You gave him agreement by stretching your neck up to meet his lips, kissing him into a wet mess. He adjusted his legs, slightly kneeling to give him better leverage to fuck you. As his hips picked up moving again, a thought struck his fuzzy mind. He broke the kiss.

"Baby, need you to do somethin'," he uttered in that deep bass his voice takes on during sex. "When you cum, be as loud as you want."

"E, he's gonna hear." You emphasized the words quietly, gesturing with your head to the phone you held with a clammy hand.

"I know" was all he said before snapping back and stuffing his cock meanly into your sopping pussy. Your hand was jostled from his hair to the broadness of his back, muscles strong beneath taught pale skin. You had to dig your nails in for grip, trying to hold on and not scream from how incredible he felt.

Missionary was not a position you two used often. It was too romantic, though you blamed it on its "vanilla" reputation; nothing was vanilla when Eddie was as huge and skilled as he was.

In fact, being able to see him up close in the position was launching you toward your orgasm so quickly that you couldn't even think. His eyes were like polished cedar, brown and glossy as he maintained an unbroken gaze.

The curled mess of his hair hung around his broad shoulders and strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat. Pink, plump lips that kiss you just how you need him every time were parted to let out throaty breaths. His cheeks, flecked with faint spots and a tiny vertical scar, had flushed the most delectable red hue.

It was impossible to conceal the small uh's and hah's that slipped your lips. Eddie couldn't get enough of them, fueled to fuck you harder so he could hear them louder.

You loved being able to hear him too. He was no doubt the one in charge, but you had the ability to make him fall apart with such ease. There was a longing in your chest to hear him praising you, something he was holding off on since Steve was still a third party to this.

Normally, the older male would be coaxing you to your orgasm. He always hit this point where you were squeezing him so tight that his mind got lost, absolutely drunk on you and how you felt.

Feel so fucking good, babe. Jesus, you're fuckin' tight. Wanna hear those pretty noises when you cum for me. Perfect pussy squeezin' me just right. Gonna fuck you like this forever, beautiful girl.

He was biting his tongue now, only letting flat huffs and the occasional groan fly free. But you knew the things that drove him crazy.

You lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him closer. It made you suck his thick cock even more, pussy suctioning him to its limit. The angle had his tip spearing into your stomach and he could feel it. He hissed through his teeth.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned. Your warmth was gripping him like a vice and it had the muscles in his abdomen tightening. His thrusts stuttered only a second before they increased in intensity.

Harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck! Eddie, Eddie," you gurgled, tongue twisted and mind entirely mush. Reckless abandon took over you, leaving Steve entirely forgotten. "Oh my-hah-ah...Baby, baby please!"

The pitched whininess to your voice was a telltale sign of your climax. Eddie stroked a hand up your side, thumb rubbing your tummy.

"Let me hear your pretty sounds," he purred. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."

You were a goner.

With the sensitivity of your cunt, you came suddenly, harshly. A flash of white light overtook your vision and your head pushed back into the pillow. As Eddie continued grinding himself deep into you, your back arched up off the mattress to press your body against his chest.

The noise that rattled your throat was somewhere between a sob and a moan. As your body seized up, the plastic phone dropped into your shoulder. Your fingernails dug further into the reddened lines they scratched on Eddie's toned back.

Your juices mixing with the cum he was fucking back into you made a wet squelching as he continually rammed in. He thrust through your high as his balls tightened and he couldn't take any more. His rings pinched your skin as he clamped down on your hips for leverage.

"Pretty girl takin' me so good." Eddie began the mindless ramble he often does as he unravels. "Pussy was made for me. Pretty...fuck, 'm gonna cum. Gonna cum inside my girl. My sweets-"

Despite your exhaustion and subspace blankness, you gasped at the sensation of the hot flood of his cum coating your walls. His cock throbbed as you squeezed him for every drop. Eddie panted in heavy breaths as he continued to slackly thrust.

He let his sticky body rest on yours gently while his dick softened inside you. Your legs dropped onto the mattress and you relaxed, letting your breathing regulate.

The wordless recovery was one of the best parts of sex with Eddie; both of you making dulcet sounds, bodies pressed together...just you and him in a cloud of euphoria and heat.

That peaceful moment was cut terribly short when Steve's furious voice boomed through the phone speaker. He was loud enough that you both could hear him even as the landline lay in the crook of you.

"Are you having sex right now? You're fucking some other guy?! Answer me, (Y/n). I swear to God..."

Eddie lifted his head up from your chest to clutch the phone, believing you were too out of it. As he was about to scream back at your boyfriend, your small hand encased his large one. You nodded at him and took the phone.

Though you appreciated his protectiveness of you, this was yours to handle. Steve Harrington had screwed you over, treated you like shit too many times.

No more.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that wrong of me to do?" you began. You didn't know tonight would be the night you duke this out with him, but here you were.

"Are you fucking kidding?!" Steve snapped, obviously fuming. "You're cheating while you're on the phone with me!"

"You wanna talk to me about cheating, Steve? That's hilarious. Really fucking ironic, don't you think? I'm not an idiot. Heather, Tina, Linda, Tracy, god damn Carol!"

The words you spat made him shut up. You took a moment to breathe, the anger toiling inside you mixed with the heat of sex. Eddie collected your tangled hair to lift off your neck, preventing you from overheating.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Steve deadpanned. "I knew you could be a real bitch, but slut trumps that by a long shot."

The phone was ripped out of your grasp before you could reply. Eddie had heard and he was fucking seething. In the low lamplight of the room, you swore you saw fire in his eyes.

"Talk to her like that again and no girl will ever want to be seen with your reconstructed face," Eddie threatened. His voice was booming, full of venom.

"A cheating, classless, daddy's money douchebag like you could never take care of a girl like her. Don't worry, 'cause I've got it covered. Fuck you."

You flinched at how hard he slammed the phone back onto its holder. His shoulders broadened as he inhaled a deep breath and released it, shaking with anger.

However, when he brought his face back to you it was soft and kind...those eyes cradling you inside their vision like the most precious thing he's ever seen. Without thinking, you used two slim fingers to brush back his hair with a tender touch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned his weight onto his left side, hip meeting the mattress. His soft length remained inside you, plugging up the creamy mess you two made. Your body moved with his, angled just slightly as he used a grip on your waist to keep you ever so close.

"Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes momentarily. You were dazed, worn from going at it for hours with Eddie and exerting the rest of your energy on Steve.

The tattooed boy tipped your hips as he pulled out, making you wince at the sensation. Feeling that empty after being stuffed full all night had you tingling. He kissed your cheek with saliva-shined lips and reached blindly around the bedside. Your eyes blinked open slowly upon the contact of him wiping you clean with his bandana.

Mindlessly you ran your hand up and down his warm bicep. He swiped the cloth delicately over your swollen folds, taking care not to hurt the sensitive area.

As he cleared the wetness, you watched his eyes, glossed and mesmerized that were glued to your sex. You breathed a hum of amusement; he was still shamelessly addicted to your pussy, even when he was showering you with the tender aftercare he did every time.

"Thank you," you expressed. It was an innocent utterance into a room heavy with sweat and lust. Eddie's gaze met yours and you blinked, tiredly.

"I told you before, you don't have to thank me for cleaning up, sweetheart." He scrunched his nose cutely.

"I didn't mean for that."

"You don't have to thank me for making you cum," he remarked with a cocky smirk.

"Not that either, you dork." You poked your red-varnished fingernail into the black ink on his peck. As your round-cheeked smile faded, the eye contact between you two intensified.

For fuck buddies who keep one another secret, you sure do look at one another with a lot of endearment. Maybe it's because of how intimately you know one another from the sex. Deep down you both know it's more than that; you just don't want to admit it and ruin what you have.

"I meant thank you for helping me finally get rid of that jerk," you mumbled. It made him smile genuinely with those dimples that charmed his way into your pants many months ago.

"Fun way to do it, wasn't it?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He circled you in his arms, one slipping beneath your neck and the other wrapping around your back.

Both your hands rested on his chest when he tugged you closer. Naturally, your legs tangled into a jumble as your bodies were constantly magnetized to be as near as possible. It was a state of calm that you never felt with anyone else.

"I couldn't handle hearing you cry over him anymore," Eddie admitted. His voice rumbled under where your palms were flattened. "He never deserved you and you didn't deserve to feel like that."

The wavering breaths you released tickled his pale skin, still burning. He seemed to always have the right words and the ability to make you feel good. You scooted your face closer to his on the silken pillow.

"I feel a lot better now," you murmured.

"I bet you do," he smirked. "I think that big finale was the loudest you've ever been. 'Oh, Eddie! Oh, baby!'"

His teasing mockery of your moaning made you roll your eyes, but his big dimply smile got you. You burst into giggles as the inches between you closed and his nose bumped yours.

You didn't need Steve; you never did. It was your friends with benefits, your fuck buddy, your dirty little secret who finally made you realize it.

A blissed smile formed on your plumped lips when Eddie kissed your forehead and hugged you against him. Relaxation soothed your sore muscles as you had nothing left to worry about.

Not then, anyway. It was just you and this perfect boy who respected you and made you scream with pleasure.

Cuddling in the afterglow with him, it wasn't long before you were both fast asleep, velvet skin pressed warmly together as you rest your tired bodies.

reblogs & feedback are appreciated! thanks for reading♡

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iholdwhatican · 4 months

Text

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste.

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony.

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump.

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen.

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly.

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.”

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him.

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth.

“What happened out there?”

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.”

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen?

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.”

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen.

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine.

That expression was clear, resolute competition.

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it.

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it.

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?”

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.”

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.”

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it.

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.”

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.”

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.”

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.”

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him.

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed.

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together.

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter.

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you.

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes.

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party.

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything.

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused.

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him.

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face.

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing.

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.”

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?”

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?”

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.”

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up.

“You care about me?”

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth?

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.”

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-”

“I wanna help.”

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly.

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed.

“How much do you need?”

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.”

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping.

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?”

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this.

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.”

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap?

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.”

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.”

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger.

“Then tell me what you need.”

“What do you think I need?”

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.”

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?”

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating.

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again.

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?”

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.”

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.”

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling.

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words.

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off.

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs.

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his.

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar.

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please.

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him.

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he.

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss.

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning.

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp.

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his.

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks.

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut.

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text.

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

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