#like omg i have never written so much in my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amentomensmut · 7 months

Note

I've never asked for a request before and i dont have clout to write it myself so i thought id ask since i like some of your Mike stuff but

What about something like reader and Mike are friends and he goes to a wedding her as a favor cause i like the idea that he has like a messy suit, loose tie kind of hot mess vibe and smutty things happen lol I dont have much in mind but the idea of him in a messy suit trying to look cleaned up is just like ...drool idk

Plus One

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 3.1k+

Summary: You invite Mike to be your plus one at your sister's wedding, but things go wrong during the reception and Mike uses you to take out his frustrations.

Warnings: 18+ CONTENT, okay so like reader and Mike are friends but also its kinda angry sex??? You’ll see. Manhandling (sorta), slight exhibitionism, degrading, praise, dirty talk, finger sucking, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pookies)

Note: oh my GOD this one got away from me and i'm NOT sure about it, I feel like i could’ve written this a bit better but i just started babbling and now we're here. to the person who requested this: THANK YOU. i loved ur idea and him in a suit like makes me drool too omg. i also couldn’t help adding a little angst in here. also so nevry to post this?? so lmk what u guys think! enjoy :)

“Please, Mike. I swear this is the last thing you’ll ever have to do for me!” You plead, trying to reason with the very unimpressed looking man in front of you. You’ve been stuck in Mike's kitchen for the past half hour trying to convince him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding next Saturday. Clearly, your convincing hasn’t been successful so far.

“The last time I did a favour for you was supposed to be the last time.” Mike says with a knowing smirk, and you roll your eyes. A few weeks ago, you went out to a bar with some friends and you may have had a few too many long island iced teas. The owner had forced your hand into calling someone to pick you up, and it was Mike's number you had dialled that night. As he drove you back to your apartment with an unpleasant look on his face, you swore to him that that would be the last favour you'd ever ask of him. How you wish you could take that back right about now.

“Okay, well, I was drunk when I said that. So it doesn't count.” You say with a frown, crossing your arms against your chest like a child who was denied candy.

You can’t really blame Mike for not wanting to go. Your family is…a lot. You love your family, you really do (most of the time). But, they can be judgemental. You were the kid in school who always got the hottest new toys for Christmas, and had big themed parties for your birthday every year. It had never really dawned on you that you were more well off than other kids until you had met Mike. You became friends with Mike when you were both 15. When you first brought Mike over to your house to hang out, you heard your parents whispering about him that night when you were supposed to be in bed. Your parents gossiped about the kidnapping of his brother, the suicide of his mother, and how Mike and his sister were essentially left to their own devices with their father paralyzed and consumed by grief. It made you sick to hear your parents nitpick and discuss Mike's life like it was a reality tv show. Your parents never really approved of your friendship with Mike, and they tend to not-so-subtly make that known whenever you make the mistake of bringing him up in a conversation.

“I don’t think that’s how that works. Besides, when your sister offered you a plus one, I really don’t think she had me in mind.” Mike says as he reaches into his fridge for a beer. “In fact, I think she’d prefer you to invite that guy who works at the convenience store and catcalls you everytime you go in, instead of me.” He says, cracking open his beer and offering you a smile before he takes a sip.

“Well now you’re just being dramatic.” You huff as you walk over to the couch in Mike's living room and take a seat. Mike follows you from the kitchen and sits down in his armchair, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Mike sticks his tongue out at you and you have to restrain yourself from strangling the man. If it were any other wedding you would’ve just gone on your own. However, your family events tend to…take a turn for the worst. Your family's gatherings usually end with drama, and you know that even though it’s your sister's wedding, this will be no different. That’s why you're insistent on bringing Mike as your plus one, so you can have a little support if things go awry.

“Very mature.” You say with a shake of your head, once again rolling your eyes at the rude gesture.

“Listen, I’ll go. But, on one condition.” Mike says, and you sit up straight at his words.

“What’s the condition?” You ask suspiciously, but at this point you think you’d agree to almost anything.

“You babysit Abby for a month,”

“Deal.”

“And do my laundry for a month.” Mike adds.

“That’s two conditions actually, Mike.” You scoff as you get off the couch to leave.

“So you’re inviting the guy from the convenience store then?” Mike teases, knowing he's your only option.

You turn around to face Mike, squinting your eyes at him. God, you hate that cocky smirk he does when he knows he's winning. Bastard.

“Have a suit by Saturday. I’ll be over at 10am.” You sigh, flipping Mike off as you leave through his front door.

“Very mature.” You hear him mumble on your way out.

—-----------------------------------------

“Mike, it looks like you just came back from a bachelor party. Not like you’re going to a wedding.” You say, noting the way Mike’s tie hangs loosely around his neck and the first couple buttons on his white button up are left undone. Mike runs his hands through his hair and you quickly bat them away, scolding him for ruining the hair you had just attempted to fix in the car only moments before you arrived. You can’t deny that he looks handsome. He surely looks charming with the way his gelled hair falls messily on his forehead, and the way his dads old suit fits him almost perfectly.

“Well, hopefully your sister doesn’t mind.” Mike says sarcastically as he adjusts the cuff links on the ends of his sleeves and steps out of your car and towards the church where your sister is getting married.

The first half of the wedding went pretty smoothly. You and your sister have never really been close, so It wasn’t a surprise to you when she didn’t ask you to be a bridesmaid. You and Mike sat a few rows down, occasionally playing footsies under the pew when you’d accidentally bump feet. A kiss was shared between the bride and groom, and everyone left to go to the reception.

You were nervous about the reception, to be quite honest. Mike could tell, and he put his hand on your lower back, resting it there as you both walked into the banquet hall. You nearly faint when you see the sheer amount of people that fill the room. There have to be about 200 people minimum. It seemed like way less in the church, you think.

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Mike, dragging him over to the bar.

Both you and Mike order a drink, and you want to be swallowed by the ground when you hear your mothers shrill, sing-songy voice behind you.

“Darling! I didn’t see you during the ceremony, I thought you hadn’t come.” You turn around and she pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks. She pulls away from you and you notice her eyes immediately land on Mike. “Oh, and what a surprise. Mike, how are you and your sister?” Your mother continues, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

You watch as Mike plasters a big, albeit fake, smile on his face and shakes your mothers hand.

“Abby and I are doing well, thank you for asking.” Mike says, and you almost laugh at his cordial tone. Mike sends you a ‘help me’ look and you mouth a ‘sorry’ to him.

“Gosh, it just devastated me to hear about your fathers passing.” Your mother says, clutching her chest like she's in pain, and you think she deserves an Oscar for the way she acts like she gives a shit. “I’m sure it must be so hard for you to provide for your sister alone.” Your mother adds and you watch the smile slowly slide off of Mike’s face.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, and you suddenly regret ever asking Mike to be your plus one.

“Mom-,” You start to say, but she disregards your voice, raising her hand as you speak to stop you.

“Well, I know you struggle keeping a job. You know, not everyone is cut out to raise a child.” If you could see yourself, you’re sure all the colour would be drained from your face. You’re left speechless, mouth half hung open at your mothers words. How could she say that? She doesn’t know him like you do. She doesn’t know how much Mike sacrifices to provide for Abby.

You look over at Mike and his jaw is tightly clenched. You brace yourself for Mike's next words, but they don’t come. Instead, you watch as he excuses himself and walks towards the mens bathroom.

“Well, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Your mother jokes once Mike is out of earshot.

“Jesus Christ, mom.” You say incredulously as you turn to go find Mike.

You walk towards the bathrooms, entering the men’s restroom with only one thing on your mind. Mike. Luckily the restroom is empty, save for Mike who is leaning over the counter. You slowly reach behind yourself, locking the bathroom door. You begin to step towards Mike, but you stop when you hear his voice.

“Do you think I'm not fit to raise Abby?” Mike asks you angrily, not even turning to look at you. You just stand there like an idiot, reaching down to fidget with the hem of your shirt.

“I-, no. Of course not.” You say, and the music that was loud in the hall, is now only a low hum in the bathroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and you’re not really sure what to say, or how to make things better. You resume taking slow, tentative steps towards Mike and you stop once you’re behind him. You place an uncertain hand on his back, softly rubbing it up and down to comfort him. He lets you touch him and you hear him let out a breath. He turns around to face you and you look up to meet his eyes. He studies your face for a moment, and you inch even closer to him.

“I’m sorry about my mom. That was inexcusable.” You sigh. If you were in Mike’s shoes, you probably would’ve left the reception entirely, and you’re not entirely opposed to that idea right now.

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” Mike finally says, and there’s distaste in his tone. You don’t say anything, you know it's true. Your family, especially your mother, has never approved of your friendship with Mike.

“Do you think that?” Mike asks you, and you’re just now realising how close Mike’s face is to your own. You look up at him with furrowed brows and shake your head.

“No, Mike. I don’t think that.” You say quietly, and you swear the tension between Mike and you is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. You look down, but you feel Mike's hand grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back up at him.

“You can’t even look at me when you say it. Pathetic.” Mike seethed. You let out a hushed whimper at his words..

“Sorry.” You say, but your voice sounds small. “I know you are.” He coos, rubbing his thumb back on fourth on your cheek.

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” Mike says, leaning down to speak in your ear. His voice is sweet and the switch in moods makes your head spin.

“Okay.” You nod and Mike pulls away from your ear to look you in the eyes.

“Be fucking quiet.” He says, and he presses his lips to yours. You softly gasp in shock, but quickly kiss him back as he turns you around to hoist you up onto the counter. He grabs both of your knees, opening them to make space for him to stand between your legs. He grips your thighs harshly, and you sigh when he sucks on your bottom lip. He puts one of his hands under your jaw, using it to hold your head in place as he kisses you. His lips are slightly chapped, but you don’t mind. He kisses you with fever, and you can’t deny that you haven’t thought about this.

He kisses down to your jaw and neck, sucking the skin in a way where you know there will be bruises. Jerk. You run your hands through his hair, throwing your head back at the pleasurable feeling of his lips gliding over your skin. The hand that was on your thigh is now trailing up your leg and under your skirt. You clench your legs around his hand and he softly bites your neck, wordlessly scolding you for your actions. You reopen your legs and his hand comes up to make contact with your clothed clit. He rubs slow circles and you let out a soft whimper.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He slurs in your ear, and his fingers move from your clit to the waistband on your panties, pulling it back and slapping it against your skin. You nod and he’s pulling you off of the counter and flipping you around. Mike bends you over and your chest meets the cold granite. You look in front of you and you can see Mike behind you in the mirror on the wall. He pushes your knee length skirt up and around your hips, and groans at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You okay?” He asks genuinely, running his hands along the sides of your body in a comforting manor.

“Yeah, keep going.” You breathe out and he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them down. You clench around nothing as the cold air hits your cunt. You moan softly as Mike spreads your pussy open with his thumbs, groaning at how wet you are. Without warning, he inserts his pointer and middle finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds of Mike fingering you fill the bathroom and you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers curl up into your sweet spot.

“Apparently your pussy thinks I’m good enough.” Mike says and you look up into the mirror to see his jaw slack, watching the way his fingers move in and out of you. You can feel Mike's erection brushing against the back of your thigh as he rocks his hips with every thrust of his fingers.

“Mike, fuck me.” You whine, and Mike takes his fingers out of you. He brings them to your lips, pushing them inside your mouth, and you can hear him undoing his belt with his other hand.

“Thought I told you to be fucking quiet.” He murmurs and you watch in the mirror as he shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock out. He removes his fingers from your lips, using your spit as lube to pump his cock a few times before lining it up with your pussy. He slowly inches himself inside of you, pushing you down onto the counter. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you hear Mike let out a whine at the feeling of being in you.

He starts to pump himself in and out of you, and he pulls you up by your shirt into his chest to make you watch yourself in the mirror. He fucks into you like he can’t get enough of you. Like being inside of you isn’t close enough.

“What would your mother think? Hm? About her sweet little angel getting fucked in the bathroom?” Mike says in your ear, with a sickeningly sweet tone. It's like he just knows how to push your buttons. You let out a low moan at his words.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Mike adds and your legs shake when he uses the hand that was holding you up to rub your clit. You drop back down on the counter and Mike grabs your hip with his free hand, using it as leverage to bottom out in you with every single thrust. He throws his head back in ecstasy and you clench around him, signalling your impending orgasm.

“You wanna cum?” Mike asks, and his voice is raspy and fucked out. You nod your head ‘yes’.

“No, want you to say it.” Mike says, and you can tell he’s close by his sloppy, less rhythmic thrusts.

“Please, Mike. Please, can I cum?” You beg, your voice hoarse. The filthy sounds of skin against skin echo throughout the bathroom, and if someone has tried to enter the bathroom since you’ve been in here, you’ve been too fucked out to hear it. Thank god I locked the door, you think.

“Cum, baby, Fuck.” Mike chokes out. Your legs shake as you cum around his cock, your orgasm only heightened by the feeling of him filling you up. You bite down on your hand to muffle yourself and you swear to god you hear Mike whimper, pussy drunk as he continues to ride his high thrusting in and out of your sloppy pussy.

After catching his breath, you feel Mike pull out of you and you wince at the feeling of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. You slowly tilt your head up as you watch Mike get some toilet paper to clean himself up. He tucks himself back inside his boxers and pulls his pants up. You flinch a little as you feel him come up behind you, cleaning you up with more toilet paper.

“Sorry, was I too rough?” He asks softly, looking at you through the mirror and you shake your head.

“No, just sensitive.” You say as Mike finishes cleaning you. You pull your panties back up, letting your skirt fall back over your legs. Your knees buckle a little bit as you try to stand straight and Mike rushes over to you, lending you a hand.

“You know, I actually think you’re one of the only people who genuinely thinks I am good enough.” Mike says, and you look up at him.

“Of course I do. I always have.” You say softly, gently touching Mike’s cheek.

#smut #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf #fnafmovie #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

1K notes · View notes

imninahchan · 5 months

Text

⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────

You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.

You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.

He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.

You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.

You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.

Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.

It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.

“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).

But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.

When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.

You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.

He looks at you.

— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.

— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)

— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!

He smiles.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)

— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.

Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.

“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.

In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?

You can even feel your legs wobble.

— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)

It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.

— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)

Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.

it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.

There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.

It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.

But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.

At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.

He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)

Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)

You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.

— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’

Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.

The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.

His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)

Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)

And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)

Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.

You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.

Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)

You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.

He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.

He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.

He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...

When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.

And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.

'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)

Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)

#imninahchan #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic smut #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #a sociedade da neve

683 notes · View notes

rcksmith · 1 year

Text

Untouchable - Five Hargreeves

You can find the 2 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2.

Resume: The villain falls in love with the girl.

Trope: “ Who did this to you?” “Touch her and you are dead.” “i´ll find you in every lifetime”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, swearing, mention of death, blood, fight between the Hargreeves and the Sparrows,a little enemies to lovers in the end, fluff, SMUT, degrading talk.

Word count: 15k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

OMG THIS IS HUGE JAHHSHDAHSDJAHDHND it turned out bigger than i expected.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down.

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

-----------

Honor comes from the Latin honoris. Indicating a person who lives with honesty and probity, basing their way of life on the dictates of morality. A principle that leads someone to have a righteous, virtuous conduct, which allows to enjoy a good reputation in society.

Five Hargreeves thought of himself as a callous man with no honor and, somehow, able to drown out the voice of morality in his head. He was very knowledgeable about literature and history, and his physics and math skills could surpass Tesla's, but philosophy for him was a bunch of weak principles and dictated by people who didn't really know the world, who didn't pass 1% of what he passed by, who did not see what he saw. Not even Socrates, Plato or Machiavelli had known the worst of humanity like him, the truth about realities. A big part of his existence came down to surviving, fighting, winning, crushing everything that threatened his life.

His cynical outlook on life led him to pragmatism, and he knows that if he wants something done, he will have to do it himself.

His actions were more about getting things done than about displaying a display of rebellion or power. However, Five was not afraid of pain or even killing. He didn't mind being the author of the worst massacres if it meant going back to his family.

Five Hargreeves don't give a damn about being the villain of the story. He did what had to be done.

It was why, when The Handle ordered him to carry out the death sentence of a Duke and Duchess in 1730, Five did not question or hesitate.

Even though in the back of his mind, in a very small part of his brain, the question arose as to why people from such an old and outdated date, he did nothing about it, much less pulled the thread from the ball of yarn that would trigger a series of questions in a row. His job was not to ask why, to investigate step by step, to go through file by file. Five wasn't on The Commission to know the reason for each death, he was on the execution.

So he went, letting the suitcase unfold before his eyes an ancient era, from a faraway time, introducing him to carriages, flowing dresses, gigantic balls. And, as much as some people considered that era poetic, Five never liked lack of practicality.

So he killed the couple as quickly as possible, determined to escape from the need to spend more hours in that old-fashioned place.

It was like any other murder he had committed over the years on The Commission; he came, killed, and left. No looking back, no questions, no hesitation. Drowning in the deepest wave any second feelings that might have submerged, ensuring his emotions were chained very well at the bottom of the ocean.

It was easy, normal, routine. He was once again the villain, and could sleep very well the night with that.

But something began to change gradually in the atmosphere, in the air.

On some mornings, it was as if Five's hands were tingling for no apparent reason, eager to catch up something he had no idea what it was. On some afternoons, his heart vibrated in his chest, like a ground being punished by an earthquake, shaking his balanced state of mind. And, on some dawns, Five's mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert, thirsty for something that not even the coldest water could appease.

Wherever he was the air stayed suddenly thin, stuffy. And sometimes, in the middle of a mission, the wind seemed to blow in only one direction, hitting Hargreeves' back as if pushing him to go in a path. At those moments, his heart returned fluttered in his chest, as if he knew that one north was calling him and was that where he needed to go.

Everything inside Hargreeves began to be affected by strange reactions, spurred by banal, mundane events.

An in a few seconds, if Five stood completely still, silencing his thoughts and hollowing out any inner voices, he could hear something in the wind calling for him. Small seconds that swept away any balance that one day he ever had.

Five Hargreeves was going through a peripeteia, and he had no idea what was causing it.

What hell is going on?

It was wen, on an afternoon where the sun hid with shame among the dark gray clouds, The Handler gave him another murder.

In 1750.

His soul shuddered inside him in that second, echoing through his bones, keeping Five's egyptian green eyes fixed on the paper in his hands, unable to look away from the bold numbers that indicated the date of his next mission.

The icy breeze ruffled his dark hair, but he didn't move. There seemed to be something important and unspoken in the air, and this time, the voice calling his name on the wind grew softly louder. Now, it didn't seem to come from the back of his mind anymore, but from a place far away.

Five looked around, in an instinctive movement in the pathetic and vain attempt to find the source of that voice.

Nothing. As always.

“Five.” The Handler snapped her fingers in front of his face “May I have your precious attention?" The irony didn't go unnoticed, but his eyes flickered to hers. “As I was saying, the time and place of this mission is strictly important. Viscount Sebastian needs to be killed in his office at midnight, in the middle of his daughter's debut ball, not a minute less and nowhere else.”

Hargreeves gave a nod. Not because he had devoted all of his attention to her, just because he wanted her to stop talking. Much of his concentration was still on the way his body and the hemisphere around him behaved. Mission times and places were standard, no need to focus on this nonsense and listen to someone reiterate the rules as if Five were a child. He was 26 years old, a child was the last thing he was.

Something seemed to be happening, occult like a current that rattles under the sea. And the knowledge that he couldn't see the bottom of the ocean unnerved every cell in his body. Hargreeves couldn't stand things he couldn't perceive, understand how it works, take it apart and put it back together again.

This time, when Five returned to the eighteenth century, with 20 years having passed in that time after his visit and only 2 weeks for him, what hit him first was not the impracticality, the carriages, the big dresses. But the wind. Strong, cold, bringing with it the voice who called his name for weeks, now loud and clear.

The dark strands of his body prickled, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. Suddenly, anxiety snaked through his body like venom, stirring every fiber in his body, pumping something into his veins that made his blood heat like lava. An emotion he couldn't name what it was.

In the last mission, Five had a string of complaints about the way the black waistcoat squeezed the white linen shirt over his abdomen, and how heavy the straight-cut coat felt heavy under his shoulders. But in this time, he wasn't bothered with the clothes he had to wear so as not to attract attention and go unnoticed. Now, with his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and the constant feeling that he had to be somewhere urgently, his clothes were the last things on his mind.

It was an emotion that squeezed the pit of his stomach, made his hands itch and his body shot with an adrenaline that screamed that he needed to move. That he had a more important place to be. All the sensations he'd felt leisurely over the weeks now came back with absurd force, as if he were getting close to the source of it all.

What was happening?

The moon in that far away era shone sovereignly in the sky, blessing the houses, carriages and large mansions with cascades of distilled light in the purest color of silver.

Las time, the feeling that came over Five was to get out of there as quickly as possible. But now, looking around in search of the source of the voice calling him in the wind, the last thing on his mind was leaving.

His watch still read eight o'clock, but the sensation was like he was already late.

The most practical plan was to stay hidden somewhere near the mansion where the ball was being held. Avoiding crowds, witnesses, minimizing risk and being a shadow. As always did. The most rational thing to do was to stay away from that place at all costs, until the inevitable arrived and he was forced to enter through one of the windows.

He should have done it. But he didn't.

Just as a sailor follows a siren's song on the high seas, Five followed that voice on the wind. His brain screamed for him to seek a hiding place, but his soul rebelled with an absurd ferocity, ricocheting tremors through all his bones and ordering his legs to follow a path his conscious did not know. His whole mind was confused, but his soul carried a certainty that no other living being had ever had in they life.

With no other option, stunned by the sensations in his own body, he found himself walking towards the front door of the only place he was supposed to avoid until midnight.

If Five Hargreeves had to describe what was happening to his five senses, he would say that his vision was mildly blurred, as if were searching for focus. The smell was of climax and the ambient sounds were drowned out by his own heartbeat. It was like being there in flesh and blood, but not in soul.

He didn't focus on the details of the world around him, but he knew when he finished climbing the front steps. He couldn't focus on the conversation around him, but he knew that a few people were walking beside him.

His mind saw everything, but processed nothing.

It was a mistake not to be 100% aware of the environment, not to study each individual's body language, not to constantly calculate the odds of a move going wrong. But... it was as if something prevented him from emerging to the surface.

Five didn't respond when the butler greeted him at the entrance to the great hall, but looked around as the wind from outside hit his back and his name rang in his ears once more.

It was a female voice. Now he could tell.

Going deeper into the hall, the melody of the orchestra invaded his ears while thousands of people, talking, dancing and drinking, took his view. Everything resembled a blur on a painting, the sounds were still muffled as if Five were at the bottom of the sea, and the smell transitioned between flowers, feminine perfume and poetry.

Five Hargreeves was a pragmatic, cynical and austere man. Everything that made up his being was based on rationality, laws of physics and mathematical concepts, he wasn't oscillated by tender things and he certainly wasn't carried away by things of the heart or soul. He always followed what rationality dictated. Until now.

Until now.

Like a violin string that ruptured, Hargreeves was gripped by the feeling that something very important was about to happen. Something that would not only change his existence forever, but change him for eternity. This fact stared him at back, bold, warm and as inevitable as the setting sun. And very hair on his body stood on end at once while everything inside him pulsed with a brutality that could shake his bones.

Now, the sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the soundtrack of his life, which was coming closer to apex by the second. It was like being submerged in a slow-motion, in a moment that preceded an momentous event.

As magnets are pulled one by the other in an impassable way, his eyes, as if they already knew where to look, were drawn to a figure among the others who danced in the middle of the hall.

You.

Was like an explosion. Loud and brutal. He suddenly submerged from the bottom of the sea, bewildered, desperate, out of breath. The stupor released itself all at once, bringing his mind back to the reality. Instantaneously, nothing was blurred anymore, sounds weren't muffled, and he abruptly returned to his conscious state. But his soul was not so lucky. Like being whipped by live eels, his heart pounded in his chest with such fury that he leaned over forward millimeters, his throat was drier than the Egyptian desert and now his hands itched in a hellish, bestial, uncontrollable way.

Five Hargreeves has released himself from a wave of numbness only to be hit by a tsunami of sensation.

His eyes were seeing everything clearly now, but he couldn't take his attention away from the female figure dancing in the middle of the room, her bouffant gown swirling gracefully across the floor as if deities were blowing the fabrics.

There were a lot of people around him, in front of him, behind him, but Five Hargreeves only had eyes for you.

In an insane, magical and inexplicable logic, Five had the purest certainty that it was your voice that called him in the wind, that was by the desire to touch your skin that his hands itched. Five would never be able to explain it to other people, but at that moment, there was nothing more concrete on Earth, in physics and science, than the certainty that was because of you that his soul felt, so many times, that he should be somewhere else.

Like the indubitability that you need oxygen to breathe, touching your skin has become just as indispensable. It was a matter of needing, something that now not only itched his hands, but corroded the bones in his fingers.

There was no reason for all those absurd feelings, Five had never even seen you before. But rationality had no space in that moment.

There, in that rift between the past, future and parallel realities, there was no discernment, lucidity, judgment. It was a hideaway free of any cohesiveness, with the smell of romance, an atmosphere full of emotion, passion and poetry. A distant era that allowed, for the first time in many years, that the soul of Five Hargreeves to take control of his body.

He moved, one step after another, his focus petrified on you. With each centimeter closer to your body, the more he felt able to breathe again, relieving the brutal anxiety that had been beating him for weeks, giving a truce to the martyrdom that lacerate him day after day without even him even knowing why.

You had finished your dance, clapping along with the other guests for the orchestra that started the new melody, this time more lyrical.

Your hair, the tone of which seemed to be the personification of poetry, of art, was tied in a bun that allowed a few strands to fall under your neck, the skin of your bust was speckled with a few little droplets of sweat, the perfect amount to glisten under the yellowish light of the candles in the chandelier, making a divine, almost celestial aurora radiate from you. The dark blue gown referred back to the night sky in its greatest splendor, highlight your full breasts at the straight neckline and opening at the hips in a skirt that preached the illusion of you being floating across the hall. Your lips were a red that Five had never seen in his life. A red that seemed to exist only to serve you, enhancing the color of your eyes.

You were like a mirage. An oasis in the farthest desert. One of those paintings that people come from all over the world to see in person, capable of sweeping, taking they breath away, making they cry for having to live with the burden of never having the possibility of knowing you in life.

The romantic period was going on in that century, society was tired of trends in intellectual thinking, rationalization, industrialization and the veneration of science. People longed for an escape into emotionally charged images and fantastical fiction in the visual arts and literature. And Five Hargreeves was certain that you were one of the greatest inspirations of this movement. It was so clear that you were the influence of John Waterhouse's paintings, sweeping the hearts of artists and illuminating poets. Lord Byron was thinking of you when he created the short lyric poem “She Walks in Beauty”, completely fascinated by you.

That thought shuddered Five's soul even more. And an acidic emotion rose in his throat and burned his eyes. In his chest was injected the feeling that he was facing one of the greatest beauties in history, the person the poems and paintings were based on, the inspiration for so many names of literature and art that would become renowned.

There, in front of him, was more than a person. It was a piece of history, art, literature, a beauty that was immortalized and that would be admired even after centuries. Five had already gone to different times in the past, but nothing touched his soul as much as now. As much as you.

Five Hargreeves went in your direction like a sailor following a siren's song across the seven seas.

You were relatively distracted when he got to you. Lungs catching breath from the last dance, body preparing for the next, your mind was on that ballroom but your heart was far away. It was universally true that girls your age should revel in balls like this one. Full of potential husbands, dancing and music, governed by a perfect night for falling in love. You came to like it in the past, but now, after so many similar events, everything didn't have the same magic anymore.

You've heard enough stories - filled with adrenaline, pirate ships and dangerous waters - to crave adventure in your life. It was also noticed that you spent too much time with your books, and that the consequence of spending so many hours in the fictional world brought you very high standards for men and love. The whispers through the darkened streets were that you would end up a spinster. Since you took no interest in any gentleman who courted your hand.

In your defense, it wasn't your fault. The men in your reality were terribly...tasteless.

That was until he showed up.

You don't know where he emerged, or what lineage he was from, much less his name. But he came towards you like that was more important than breathing. In a virile, perfect posture. As if he knew all the secrets of the world and was able to show you them.

One of the first things you noticed were the eyes. The room was partially dark, lit only by the flickering candles in the candelabra, but the darkness only made his eyes clearer. Intense greens. Of such a pure emerald tone that it shone like a mystical cat, calling you to sink in his greenish sea. The stranger had hair as black as midnight, which fell softly and romantically over a face with firm features; jaw as sharp as a razor and a nose full of masculine personality. Although was well dressed, all his clothes, with the exception of the white linen shirt, were as dark as the strands of his hair, something unusual among the sophisticated gentlemen who were invited.

Looking at that gorgeous face, you were left speechless. The deities had been generous to this man, gifting him with bold, aristocratic features and iris as green as Egypt's most precious jewels. The mystery and secrets contained within in those eyes were a fascinating contrast.

“Can I have this dance?” Just a sentence.

He didn't introduce himself, he didn't say who he was. He just dropped that sentence as if it was the only thing he really cared to say.

The gravity of his words made your heart flutter. What a beautiful voice that man had. With a provocative huskiness, a touch of superb, as if he were an oracle at his peak in ancient Greece. The sound seemed to seep into your body and run through you like warm honey.

The truth was, you had reserved the dance for another gentleman, but in that second, you couldn't care less.

“Of course, milord.” That's what you said, accepting the hand he extended to you.

Never taking his eyes off yours, an unfamiliar sensation washed over your mortal body and engulfed everyone around you. You wondered if it was just the stuff of your imagination or if he too felt the electricity whip through his body as he positioned you closer to dance.

Single women weren't allowed to touch men's hands if you weren't wearing gloves, and that rule had never bothered you. Until now.

Until be affected by an insane, visceral desire to feel that man's skin. Of experiencing the heat radiating from his hand against yours, of feeling those white fingers, slender and pale, holding your denude skin. You've never been touched by a man without a layer of clothing intervening. No brushing of elbows, no bumped of fingers, no errant caresses. And you wondered what it was about that man that made you aware of this deprivation. That stranger radiated secrets in an inexplicable but extremely palpable way in the air and you wanted to feel the touch of mystery on your skin more than you wanted to breathe. A will as strong as fear, as intense as hunger.

Your soul screamed in frustration because of the dress when his hand cupped your cover waist. In a touch so firm it only existed in the romance novels you read. Your heart raced, your breath disappeared, and you didn't notice when you rested your hand on his shoulder and your feet began to follow the rhythm of the waltz.

It was pathetic the intensity of your emotions for a man you had just met and didn't even know his name. But, it was like you'd found something didn't even know you'd lost.

Well… if it was the lack of knowledge of his name that was making things a little difficult…

“Aren't you going to tell me your name? Mine is Y/n”

Your voice, sweet as molasses, velvety as suede, made the hairs on the back of Five's neck stand on end. He recognized the timbre now, he had already heard you calling for him in the wind, but nothing surpassed hearing you from inches away.

This was one of those moments where, if you asked Five why he was doing this, he couldn't answer. He couldn't find any logical answers to his actions, reactions, thoughts. But, once again, this rift in space and time was an environment free of rationality. He didn't need this here. He felt he didn't need to. Not when had you in his arms.

A name…

Five Hargreeves was the name of a villain. Someone who would carry on his shoulders to the grave the weight of the thousands of souls he killed. Someone whose hands were marked, eternally, with thick, hot blood. A proof that his destiny was traced directly to hell. His name was the personification of a freak created to be a hero, an orphan in the apocalypse, a man who belonged nowhere in the timeline, someone without family for many decades.

He looked at the hands that held you. The hands of a serial killer. And then he looked at you, full of beauty, life, happiness and innocence. It was like committing a crime against nature to hold something so pure in such infamous, disgraced, death-scarred hands. And something inside he twisted with something like pain…disgust, for the fist time.

His soul didn't want to hold you in the hands of Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves was the villain. And he didn't want to be that man right there.

His mouth, which looked so beautiful yet so dangerous, softly approached the foot of your ear, while the body of you two continued to follow the steps of the waltz. "We don't need names here."

A current of electricity slammed into your body like a whiplash from a live eel, raising goose bumps on parts of your skin you didn't even know you had. My goodness, it was a sin for a single man to have that much charm.

Sensible young women would have turned away at once. Practical girls who appreciated rationality, sincerity and transparency, who had no estimate for games, mystery and sensuality, would have rolled their eyes. But you were not sensible, practical or appreciative of the good customs of the epoch.

You were romantic, hungry for a good charade, adventure. And that man seemed to be built by those two things.

The world was just a shapeless blur, other people were no more than wandering silhouettes, and the atmosphere was enraptured by the flickering orange light of the candles in the candelabra. The smell was of poetry, romance and freedom, which intoxicated the brain and alcoholize any common sense. Was like a magical place in the middle of space and time, a rift that allowed just being. Time passed slowly, as if dancing together with you two.

‘One second can change many things...’

Just as Five could hear his father's voice saying 'I told you so' during his years in the apocalypse, he could hear his words now.

‘you can crumble empires, win battles...’

Five swirled you around before pulling you into his arms once more, his heart pounding with each passing moment. Neither of you realized it, but every second you spent together, every step, more messed up the timeline.

You smiled full of romance and magic as he leaned you back, his hand firm on your spine, bringing you to the surface and returning to dance around the hall with the waltz that dandle yours bodies.

‘you can fall in love.’

With every strong step the two of you took on the floor, in an apocalypse dance, realities were immediately misaligned. With each spin, lines of events were exploded into other universes. With each look shared, with each smile, with each heartbeat full of romance, people were erased, born, disappeared.

An apocalypse was brewing somewhere because of his hands on your body. A mystical waltz that brought the ascension of chaos in other timelines.

Neither of you two knew about it. But if Five knew, he wouldn't keep his hands off you anyway. Five Hargreeves was the villain in many realities. And he would accept the burden of being in a few more if it meant having you in his arms.

In an inexplicable and irrational way, what was happening now had more importance than everything he had ever lived and would live through in his entire life.

"You dance very well." You praised him, and his hands on you tighten a little more.

"No more than you". Then he gave that smile.

The half smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. Malicious, sagacious, sphinx. Who promised to know all the mysteries of the world and show you all the sins of life. What man was that? So full of charm, sensuality, beauty. He seemed out of this world and you found yourself wishing that time would freeze in that moment, that you could hold onto your chest and live in that dance for the rest of your life.

There was something different in the air. A soul-deep feeling that whispered that your life would never be the same again.

Not after this man.

“It is not difficult to find women who dance.” You joked. "You've certainly danced with others to know."

Yes, with his mother and Allison.

But even if he had been dancing with all the women in the world, they would have disappeared in that moment. No memories memory experiences with other women could stand out at that moment.

"If I danced, they all disappeared the moment I waltzed with you." He realized he might have said the right thing, because he could see the breath go out of your lungs and cheekbones flush deliciously.

God in heaven… this girl was breathtakingly beautiful.

Five led you around the hall masterfully, committing your features to his mind like the tattoo on his wrist. Permanently, eternally. Suddenly, he was struck down by the insane desire to know more about you. To hear more of your voice, to taste the way the words flowed from your lips like the purest honey.

You were like a drug, an obsession. An addiction that had stuck with him since the first time he came into that century, since he breathed the same air as you, since he coexisted under the same night sky as you. There was insane logic in the fact that his soul felt your presence without even seeing you on that first mission. He would never be able to explain it, but somehow it made sense inside in him.

Five Hargreeves didn't think about what would happen when he had to leave. He didn't think about the withdrawal his body would suffer when he was away from you. Much less noticed the way there seemed to be something important in the air. If he had been in full intellectual faculties and grounded in rationality, he would have managed to understand that that something was the temporal lines collapsing, an apocalypse forming elsewhere, pure and perfect chaos destroying parallel realities.

But he was not being led by rationality. And even if he was, he wouldn't have minded a few worlds burning if it meant having you next to his body. He didn't care. But The Commission was a different case.

But Five Hargreeves wasn't thinking about any of that.

He conducted a conversation with you the way he conducted that waltz. He discovered that you liked the high seas even though you were never allowed to be on a ship. You loved nature and enjoyed good books. He heard your eagerness to know the world and learn about different cultures, that you wanted to unravel the mysteries of Egypt, see the architecture of Greece, visit Spain and wanted to go swim in the beaches of Brazil. You were an adventurer, and Five's heart skipped a beat for it.

But in a corner of his soul, deep down, he felt an ache reverberate through his bones. The urge to tell you about the world came with overwhelming force, and something inside him died when he realized he could never tell you the truth about the subjects you cared about.

He could never tell all that the world already knew about Egypt, about its tombs and its pharaohs. He could never be able to show the beauty of Brazil's beaches that become famous tourist spots, and he reserved a note in his brain that you would have loved to visit Genipabu in Brazil, a beach with huge sand dunes that seemed to be the junction of a huge desert whit a beach. He could not tell you what science, oceanography and marine biologists already knew about the oceans. He could never say about the cruises that roamed the seas in all the luxury and comfort, much less about the planes.

Five Hargreeves would never be able to show you the world. And his soul decided to torture itself even more thinking about what it would be like if you were from his time. The things you would do, the freedom you could enjoy.

He could show you anything you wanted, tell you the secrets of the universe…His secrets.

When the waltz was over, on a note as dramatic as the situation, you couldn't say goodbye to him. Your soul, enchanted and completely enraptured by the man in front of you, vehemently refused to remove your hand over his. It seemed that every molecule in your body, every corner of your spirit, every fiber of your being, had defined that it was with that man that they wanted to stay. Forever.

What was foolish.

The truth was that the sensation of poetry, romance and magic that surrounded you two throughout the dance, had evaporated from the air like mist in the sun. Now the sure that you two weren't meant to be together hung in the air like a black cloud, thundering and flashing. This feeling oppressed you with an overwhelming force, so tangible it was possible to cut it with a razor.

No words needed to be said, but it was stamped into the environment, filling every millimeter and gap, putting that magical dance into a category that would never go beyond that: a dance.

A feeling of melancholy jabbed your throat like a scorpion's sting, injecting an emotion of sadness and helplessness into your blood like distilled poison. You didn't want that to be the end. You didn't want to say goodbye. Even with everything in the air indicating that whatever existed between the two of you, ended here, now.

Five's eyes seemed to exude the same as you. Feeling the end heavy and resounding in the air, reverberating like thunder, as every corner of his soul roared the opposite. The green sea of his irises looked like it was in the middle of a storm. Full of pain, anger. With colossal waves and revolts, which promised to destroy everything they saw ahead. Just like the oceans did in the apocalyptic events in the era of Younger Dryas.

Somehow, without having to utter a single sentence, you both knew you were feeling the same thing. Wishing, with all their might, that this wasn't the end, that they were able to hold time against their chest in a tight, desperate embrace, an attempt to freeze the pointers.

At that moment, Five clamored, to any god who would listen, that you not be taken from his arms.

However, like the evil joke that was his life, his thoughts were cut short by the chiming of the clock. 11 chimes. That echoed in his soul like the trumpets of hell, laughing at him, mocking him, making fun of a murderer thinking he would be graced with something like you.

Five Hargreeves was a villain. And he was destined to have the things villains deserve. And none of this things included someone like you.

In that sadistic moment, Five finally understood a sentence from one of the books Grace read to them at night; ‘If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.’

Yes. Now he understood. Five Hargreeves leaned in, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that, however much it was impeded by the muslin layer of your glove, he prayed that this kiss could transmit all the feelings he could never say. This are the only kiss he could give you. That sentence echoed in his head like a fact, as sure as the sky is blue, as true as the salt in the oceans.

And when he went to the core of hell, paying for all his sins, he would brag to the other demons that he had been to heaven without ever having entered it.

You wish you'd said something, asked where he was from, stopped him from going. But none of that happened. This was one of those moments that we regret forever, that are branded in a red-hot iron in the soul, in the mind, in the body. Everything inside you was screaming to go after him when Five turned arund and walked into the sea of guests. But he disappeared in the waves before you could even move your feet.

No one had to tell you, but you knew you'd never see him again. And your heart would never beat for another.

-----------

Five Hargreeves has had to do a lot of horrible things over the years. Actions he wasn't proud of but he knew needed to be done, nights awash in blood and the smell of death.

But nothing has wobble him as much as you have.

His soul, body and mind, trained since he was a child not to develop any weakness that would prevent him from being a perfect hero, then perfected and aggravated by the Commission to be the unbeatable assassin, were rarely stirred by feelings.

He was cynical, hard-nosed, crotchety and arrogant. He never got carried away by emotions and, as much as his desire to save his family is pure, he will cross any ethical lines for the greater good. And all of that made him the Commission's best weapon.

Until now.

Until his emotions messed up not just one, but thousands of timelines. Created catastrophes, formed apocalypses, killed people. Hargreeves meeting you was something that could never have happened. Repudiated not just by nature but by the gods. Having you in his arms was like a crime against the timeline, against the balance of the world.

And heavens and hells would make him pay. With work, blood, or his heart. Promising to take not only the soul, but any hope of laying eyes on you once again. As Icarus had his downfall for the sun, so Hargreeves had for you. In a triumphal ruin.

“Do you have any idea what you caused ?!” It was the first thing The Handler said as soon as Five returned from his mission, seconds after he had killed his target.

Her voice was loud, suffused with anger and rage and… despair. Five frowned, soul still aching from having to leave you, your warmth still in his arms. He didn't have the head to deal with her right now. Not when he had so much to process.

“A death.”

“Don't play smart on me!” Her roar was loud enough for Hargreeves to realize that something really serious was going on. The Handler was many things, but she never got worked up without good reason.

The clatter of her heels echoed through the room as she walked towards him, her eyes full of fierce emotion.

“You had only one job to do! One! Kill the man and get out of there. Like always!" Her voice was as rough as desert sand. “But not only did you mess up entire timelines, but created apocalypses on thousands of worlds that were to happen only thousands of years later!"

Five's mind was racing like a Catarina wheel, spinning at full throttle as it tried to put the pieces together. He blinked once, twice, his heart starting to race with the feeling that something devastating was about to be revealed.

He looked at The Handler, who understood his look. "That's right! Your little feat of dancing with that girl shattered thousands of timelines! People were killed, disappeared, events took a completely different course because of your little impertinence!"

She pulled his arm towards the thousands of screens that monitored infinite realities. And what he saw was chaos. Pure and perfect. Some worlds succumbed to fire, others to water, others to war. But they had devastation as a resemblance.

Five can hear the voices of other Commission workers in the background, in another corridor, other rooms. Some sounded desperate, others irritated, and others helpless, but all seemed concerned. He couldn't even say that he didn't know that little things had chain reactions. Because he knew. There was nothing to justify his actions, for he didn't even have a good reason for himself.

But the truth was, even staring the apocalypse in the face across nine different monitors, he felt no…remorse. There wasn't a part of him that would have done differently, that wouldn't have touched you, that wouldn't have known you. Deep in his soul Hargreeves knew he didn't care how many worlds he had destroyed just by touching you. He was going to hell anyway, it was better to have a memory of you to remember for eternity.

"...we'll have to kill her." It was just that sentence that Five's messed up mind paid attention to.

Then everything stopped.

The weather, the conversations. The world seemed to have held their breath, suspended, staring at Five. Everything inside him fell silent into scary silence, and he turned slowly toward The Handler, all his senses heightened, heart still, mind clear.

She seemed to notice his state. "What did you expect?! You know how things work. Causers of apocalypse get killed, that's our job! And because of that dance of yours, this girl has caused nine different apocalypses.”

There was a kind of insane, evil logic to the situation. The last riddle of gods and life to see Five Hargreeves on his knees. Broken, empty. To punish his sins, taking from him what he took from so many people. They engineered his downfall perfectly, writing with a red-hot iron on his soul the sentence that he could never be happy. His curse, the price to pay. Cosmic fit.

What the fucking hell.

“I'll send some agent to kill her immediately and...”

But Five Hargreeves has never been one to accept sentences imposed on him with his head down. Limitations, rules. He made his own destiny, no matter what he told him, and lived with the consequences. No god, destiny or universe dictated his life.

Everything inside him roared like a beast. Exploding, bursting, sending any control flying away. In an action without any hesitation, delicacy or ambiguities, his hand closed on The Handler's arm. In a firm, strong, tense grip that started hurt her very soon.

She looked at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. There were very few people in the world willing to face a woman on her level, some too fearful, others who value life too much. But Five Hargreeves was none of those things. He'd never known any predator he should fear, everyone knew he was capable of anything and everything. Maybe there was no line he was able from crossing, or plan he wasn't capable of executing.

Five Hargreeves was the predator she should fear.

And The Handler realized that. For in that pair of eyes she saw danger, rage, pure and perfect hate. His sea of green gave way to red, glittering waves, shining with all the blood he had already spilled. And with a warning that he wouldn't mind spilling more.

“Stay. away. from. her. ” he guided each word with a tighter grip on her delicate arm, sure to leave marks that won't go away anytime soon.

Bewildered, she looked at him like a man possessed, filled with a rage that could fuel hell all by itself. The Handler had never seen him in that state, he was always angry, annoyed, acidic, but that… that was hatred, a bloodthirsty hate.

Five Hargreeves promised to go to hell and drag anyone with him without saying a word.

For the first time in her life, The Handler was afraid.

“Five...you know her need to die...”

"Listen to me" He vociferate, shaking her by the arm. “I don't give a fuck what you have to say. I swear, for all that exists in this world, that if you lay one finger on her, there will be nowhere on earth you can fuck hide from me.”

Five Hargreeves was a tall, masculine man, wrapped in a macabre and sinister aura when he wanted to. He pulled The Handler closer, his face filled with colossal rage being etched like a tattoo into her soul.

“I don't give a fuck about how many worlds are ending, I don't give a fuck if fucking people are dying! You won't touch her until the day I'm dead! And you can bet that, even seven feet under the ground, I'll find a way to take you with me to hell if you do fucking something to her."

You were untouchable.

All of his work on The Commission was about killing a number of people to save even more. But he would never, ever, sacrifice you for the greater good. Not even if it meant millions of dead people.

It didn't matter as long as you weren't one of the dead.

Without waiting for further discussion, he led The Handler towards the exit door, leading her out of the room and locking the door when he returned. Five wasn't stupid or naive to think that she would follow his orders. The handler might be afraid of him, but she knew how to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. And now that he'd bruised her ego, Five knew she'd make it her primary mission to kill you.

Something he would never let happen.

If someone asked where so much anger, so much sense of protection came from, Five Hargreeves couldn't say. Because he didn't even know. In the same way that he still didn't understand everything that had happened, everything that he had been feeling, he still hadn't reasoned where such primitive, territorialist impulses came from. He had no idea where it all came from, but he was sure he could never let anything bad happen to you.

In a twisted and somewhat obscure way, you had gained a villain as a protector. A fallen angel who didn't promise to do good to people, but only to you. Who swore allegiance not to humanity, but solemnly, exclusively, to you.

It was a sensation that filled his entire body like boiling lava. And Five put his hand in the fire for the certainty that he would never be able to get rid of his feelings for you again.

His soul said that, as long as he was alive, he would be yours.

Making his mind work faster than it ever had before, Five Hargreeves concluded that every record of you had to go. There could no longer be documents proving that you were part of humanity. That once you had a name, a house, a reality. Five would have to erase you from any and all records. Forever. The only way to keep you out of the hands of the people who had access to every form of terrestrial existence, was to erase you from the world. Only then, hidden from the Commission, could you live happily. Fully.

But throwing all your documents away was signing the sentence that he was took the risk of never getting to see you again. Without them, finding someone was nearly impossible, much less accessing their reality. Five could start a calculation to find you one day, but that could take years, ages, and even if he memorized your documents number by number, did the calculations and managed to get to you without any side effects, The Commission could follow him and find you.

And finding a civilian's documents was much easier than finding a special agent like him and throwing them away too.

Once again, his life was a cruel joke of the gods, which served as entertainment for any higher power. Five strongly believed that, if there was anything above or below him, they designed his life for they own amusement.

Five Hargreeves spent hours in the file room, locked in that cubicle, not letting anyone in, not getting out. Once he disappeared with your documents, he would be declared a traitor and deserter, where his punishment would not only be more years of work, but death.

The world was spinning. Head ached. A sound gnawed at his mind, a scratch without melody, like a rustle of paper. Someone had taken a scream, a memory and a fear, crumpled it into a jagged ball, and used it to stuff Five's skull. He need to think of a plan that covered all the rough edges, but his eyes were bombarded with futures he didn't want to think about. Every time he blinked he felt the tragedy lurking in a dark and dismal corner, ready to catch him in their sharp mouths and take him somewhere he feared to go.

A place where the worst had happened to you.

Suddenly, the world was filled with secrets, fears and terror. Just as his soul took control of him in that night, it was the same in this moment. Five Hargreeves wasn't someone to get carried away by anything, but the feeling that something very bad was about to happen to you haunted him to the bone. That would be the perfect ending to his sinful life story; having the one person who touched his feelings so powerfully killed in the same way he killed so many other people.

Life was taking its toll on all the things he had done. For a second, he was afraid of that reckoning. Because the worst is not the bullet hitting yourself, but someone you like.

The feeling outside of being torn apart. All the patches and pieces of what it was to be Five Hargreeves - which he had been painstakingly piecing together throughout his life - were coming loose again, all at once. The clock was ticking, the hours were ticking, and he knew that just as he was coming up with a plan, so was The Handler.

It was a macabre race against time, in which if he lost, he had the feeling he would never fully recover. Not without a part of his soul dying along with you.

When he found your documents, the photo they had of you was a portrait made in that last century, a small painting of your face, eternalizing your smile. Suddenly, the memory of how you'd smiled at him like that gripped him like a demon. And when the memories of you intensified, they brought no comfort, just only fear and dread. Five Hargreeves could not live with himself if those memories were tainted by the knowledge that he was the cause of his tragedy. He would never be able to remember those tender moments again if memories of you were vandalized by images of how you were killed.

It was too late to remedy the consequences of what he had unleashed. The macabre possibilities of what The Handler could do to you were there, tattooed on his brain, as if they would snap open and bolt to reality at any moment. So, as panic rose, Five Hargreeves' mind slammed shut like a heavy book. He wouldn't let any of that happen. Never.

After scheming and checking all the plans in his mind, Five decided that he had already orchestrated the almost perfect scheme. He would destroy all of your documents and, when he had done that, he could no longer remain on the Commission. Thus, he would steal the mission from one of the agents about killing John F. Kennedy, the time that most closely matched his calculations to return to the family in 2019. Then Five Hargreeves would evade The Commission and deal with them without being an employee anymore. And even if they went after him, they would never find you.

Not even Five.

And so it was done.

-----------

Five Hargreeves went through the reunion with his family, faced the commission agents coming after him to kill him, dealt with The Handler and put up with his siblings drama.

In a matter of weeks, he had already gotten himself into so much trouble and confusion that sometimes he didn't even have time to breathe. Processing events and digesting them had become a luxury he no longer had, and saving the world from one apocalypse and falling into another had seemed to become a family pastime.

But there were nights. Cold, when the moon reached its apex in the sky and the rain poured down on the ground, when he was finally able to be alone and clear his mind. In those rare moments, the only thing on his mind was you.

Always you.

His point of peace, his refuge from his constant stress and pressure was in the images of you. In the way your body fit perfectly in his hands, in the way your gaze, enchanted and completely shining, did not leave his. Five Hargreeves felt that, like him at that moment, there was no other place you would rather be.

Twenty years could go by, but he would still feel what it was like to have your warmth in his arms, in the smell that your perfume exhaled and in the way the candles in the candelabra glowed on your skin. You were like a goddess, dancing at that ball as if the world would never be graced with such beauty again.

When Five Hargreeves closed his eyes, he could see you perfectly. Swirling around as if the ground were your clouds and everyone there were mere mortals, watching what the angels in heaven looked like.

It was like a dark paradise. He managed to slake some of that suffocating tightness in his chest whenever he returned to those memories, but it resulted in more flagellations in his poor, tortured soul. The notion that he would never have anything but memories, dreams, and mowed wishes, would skin him alive until his last days. Five would forever be haunted by the notion that, even when he died, you wouldn't be waiting on the other side.

You would be in heaven. And he belonged in hell.

But, it was worth it.

All the pain, all the desperation his soul struggled with, all the shortness of breath that coiled in his lungs, all the feeling of being stabbed with a dagger knowing his would never lay hands on you again, it was all worth it when he reviewed your face in his memories.

Five Hargreeves didn't clamored for relief from his pain, balm for the cuts deep in his soul, a minute's mercy. No, he accepted all of his fate with his head held high. He clamored for you to be okay. Safe, happy. Free from any worries or tribulations. He wished you had forgotten about him, erased that night from your blood, because it would be impossible to live if he knew you were suffering just like him.

Five Hargreeves had never given you a single kiss, tucked your hair in his fingers and tasted your tongue, but he didn't need it. His soul didn't need that to fall madly in love with you.

Yes, pure and perfect passion. It was the only logical explanation for how he felt about you.

Even though he never tasted your skin in his mouth, or touched you without the interference of a piece of clothing, Five Hargreeves was in love with you.

And it would be for the rest of his life.

-----------

All the Hargreeves siblings thought all was well when the Commission was defeated and they got a briefcase to take them back at home. The nightmare of the second apocalypse had already passed and now the feeling that invaded their bodies was one of relief. For a second, Klaus thought that everything would now be back on track; with the family together, stronger ties and improved relationships.

Everyone thought so, actually.

The shimmering blue flash engulfed all the brothers, passing through the barriers of space and time, leaving the Hargreeves in the mansion where they grew up and spent most of their lives. Everyone looked happy, relaxed. And Five also shared the same relief.

Until that fateful moment.

Until a draft of wind enter through the window behind him and hitting his back, bringing a feeling that immediately made every hair on his body stand on end. In a matter of seconds, all sense of relief, calm, and peace were shattered, exploding one by one with the same aggressiveness of a nuclear bomb. The world seemed to stumble and stoped, the colors of the hemisphere fluidized into a vintage orange, flickering, almost as if the lighting came from candles.

As much as his siblings were laughing and making noises, everything for Five was quiet, in a tacit silence. The sound of cars on the streets did not exist anymore, the conversations disappeared, and, little by little, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. Increasing in tempo gradually, like a soundtrack.

Then, in the apex of silence, when Five could already hear the blood rushing through his veins, he listened.

Five.

Your voice in the wind, almost like a whisper. Calling for him. Just like you did a long time ago.

His soul gave a scream that shook him to the very bones, and he didn't notice when his eyes widened and his breath hitched. Suddenly, his whole body came back to life, being pulled sharply from the bottom of the ocean, submerging, desperately, breathless, astonished. Abruptly, the heat returned to his hands, to his cheeks, to his heart. Five could feel warmth coursing through his body as if they had rekindled the flame of his soul.

Was like resurrect.

He looked back in one jerk, spinning in place, heart pounding in his ribcage, his frantic, frantic eyes darting around every corner.

Nothing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Klaus looked back, focusing on his brother, but Five didn't respond.

He walked past Klaus as if he couldn't hear him, his eyes and hands trembling visibly, his step tight. Five chased the wind current as if he were chased his life, oblivious to anything or anyone.

His siblings, finding the situation strange, followed him without hesitation, accompanying the owner with green eyes entering more in the house. They had no idea what to expect, or what to think, but they stopped behind Five as he froze in the middle of the living room, eyes petrified, wide, fixed on a very specific spot at the top of the stairs.

But nobody noticed what he saw.

While all the Hargreeves were taken aback by Reginald's appearance in the outer corner of the room, stunned and petrified, growing more and more stunned as their father went on to explain the situation, Five couldn't take his eyes off the top of the stairs. Nothing in the world would have made him look elsewhere.

You.

Fucking hell...you.

There, standing next to people he didn't care to find out who they were, looking down, observing at the people who had just entered.

Suddenly, everything inside him was whipped by currents of electricity, as if he'd been struck by lightning. An argument seemed to be brewing in the background, but Five Hargreeves didn't fucking care. May the world explode, may everything end up in dust, fire or water. He didn't want to know.

You were there. With the sunlight coming through the large windows behind your back, and illuminating your silhouette as if you were a deity, a goddess, a muse. You shone. Like the gates of heaven. At that moment, the soul of Five Hargreeves fell to his knees in front of you. For you.

An extremely strong emotion invaded him without asking permission, destroying everything he once was. Five felt like crying.

As a war in the background unfolded, the people who were beside you started to descend the stairs one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Five. Five.” Luther seemed to call out to him in the background, but he didn't care.

You walked down the steps the same way you glided through that ballroom, as if the floor were your clouds. Yours robes were uniform this time, but Five was pretty sure that behind that high collar, your skin harbored a birthmark on your collarbone. Your hair was down, but he knew how you looked with your strands tied up.

With each step you took, more his pulse quickened. It was like a dream, a mirage, his oasis in the scorching desert. At some point in the battle against the Commission he had died, and that was his dream.

However, Luther's hand gripped his arm, forcing his green eyes to meet his brother's.

“Dude, what's wrong with you? Didn't you hear dad saying that we're in another reality?”

“I am not your father.” Reginald countered. “Not in this reality.”

Five frowned, rationality slowly returning to his body, his brain taking over once more. A parallel reality. That explained a lot. A reality where…you existed.

Holy shit.

Someone said the Hargreeves had better go, and Five would have laughed out loud if he hadn't submerged in thoughts. If they really was in a parallel reality, that meant you didn't remember him. You didn't even know him. The version who have danced with him was still in another century, in a timeline far, far away.

But…Five looked up. You radiated the same beauty of the romantic period as before, your skin still looked feather soft, your lips still where able to take away his complete self-control, your eyes still have… the same glow that he remembered so many times during so many nights.

You didn't know him, but that didn't matter. Because Five knew you.

He suffered the worst of martyrdoms all this time, and now that he'd finally, finally found you once more, he wasn't going to leave. Even if it meant having to make you fall in love with him all over again. In fact, Five Hargreeves would dedicate his entire lives to making you fall in love with him all over again in every reality there is. He would have as many times as necessary a first dance with you.

He didn't realize it, but his lips lifted in a smile. In a snap of fingers, everything reached a apex, higher than the buildings, higher even to the clouds. All the problems evaporated like mist in the sun, and being in a parallel reality, with a father that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't the one he grew up in, seemed to be extremely insignificant.

For the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was happy. And nothing would change that.

That's when, amidst all the arguing the Hargreeves and Sparrows were having around, your eyes met his. And for him it was like coming home after an excruciating winter.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, intrigued by the way that man was looking at you so…surrendered. You understood the gravity of the situation, of those strangers breaking into your home and trying to claim everything as theirs. You were also irritated just like your siblings.

But... when you looked at that man… with eyes so green and hair so dark, something inside you caught your breath. A shiver went up your spine. And maybe you were crazy, but you can swear that felt your soul heave a sigh of…relief. A strange, emotional feeling reverberated through your spirit as if…somehow you'd just found what you've spent so long waiting to met again.

It don’t make sense.

As the confrontation unfolded between the two families, you couldn't help but notice that, minute by minute, you found yourself wanting to look at this man more. As if it were never going to be enough, as if the second you turned your head, you were overcome with an insane urge to see more. You should be focused on trying to get those strangers out of your house, not admiring one of them.

But Five realized that. A spark inside him vibrated with hope, and he delighted in being able to relive the feeling of what it was like to be looked at by you again.

But before he or you could even do anything, the physical feud between the two families broke out with astonishing speed, spreading like the plague. Diego, as usual, was the first to go into battle, followed by Luther and Allison.

See, you didn't consider yourself a confrontational person. Your peculiarity was to manipulate the natural elements and, although that made you one of the strongest figures among your siblings, you had a more adventurous spirit than a fighter. There was no such homeric thirst in your blood to be the best, the strongest, the most brutal. Ben said that was the most unattractive thing about you, but Sloane saw this feature with good eyes. Like you, she wasn't much inclined to brutality.

The fight drove you and Five away from each other, separated by rooms, siblings and war. You saw your family appeal to brute aggression very quickly, while, if you're honest, you didn't want to hurt anyone. Is trut that you were irritated by the way they claimed your house as theirs, but you didn't think they were bad people.

Or all this bland resolutions were for the fact that you didn't want to hurt him. Because, in some way you couldn't explain, you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

But that's when Alphonso yelled at you from upstairs. “Y/N! Do fucking something too!”

Everyone was scattered around the house, but you still remained downstairs, in the living room, arranging a way to help without being very aggressive like your siblings were being. You had no intention of killing or seriously injuring them, but you also weren't willing to put up with the scolding your brothers would give you if you continued to be omitte.

So, when one of the strangers came running to get away from something, the tail of his dark overcoat dancing in the air and his black hat toppling along the path, your reaction was to do the one thing that couldn't seem to do any real damage. In a wave of the hand, the windows were shattered by large, sprawling tree roots, that came out of the garden earth like thick snakes and entered the house in a steady stream.

The man gave a high-pitched scream, but his feet were already entwined by the roots and he was knocked to the ground. The roots, which spilled earth over the floor and exhaled a forest smell, wrapped themselves around the man's body up to his chest, with the only purpose of immobilizing him.

You weren't putting force or brutality, and you were sure the roots were just putting considerable pressure on, like a bandage around an injured arm. But the man didn't seem to notice this, because he kept screaming.

The fear should still be clouding his senses, and you revealed the situation. For it wasn't often that someone was wrapped around by giant roots that moved of their own accord. In your place, you would have reacted that way too.

“Hey, hey” you tried to get closer “It's ok, they won't hurt you and…”

But your speech was interrupted by shrill hum, which cut through the air with force and passed like a bullet in front of your face, shaking a few locks of your hair. The speed were frightening, and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. The fright made you take two steps back immediately, but in a matter of seconds any feeling was replaced by a very strong burning in your left cheek. In the same second, a hot liquid began to ooze from your injured skin like water in a current, spreading pain wherever went.

Two seconds that were able to put you face to face with death. Because that attack was not joking.

The bearded man ran to help the one who was lying on the ground, forcing his freedom between the roots that were now weak due to your distraction.

Unlike you, Diego didn't care about the things he had to do to save his family. He was willing to injure, inflict permanent damage, even killing if that was the only way out. He would have a guilty conscience later, but in the heat of the moment, he wouldn't hesitate. Diego did this to the Commission agents hours ago, and he would do this to you if he had to. As sure as the sky was blue, the Sparrows were the enemy. And he was the hero. Thats it. Two polar opposites, destined to face each other into the death.

And that was why he didn't hesitate to attack when he saw Klaus lying on the floor, screaming as if he were being killed. After getting a small taste of the kind of things your powers were capable of doing, it was pretty clear that you were one of the first ones that needed to go down. So Diego didn't hesitate either when he pulled Klaus off the ground, and wielded yet another dagger. Aiming not to hurt, but to kill.

But love could drive even the smartest minds crazy.

Because when the dagger was thrown in the air, a blue flash invaded the scene and a male body enveloped yours, pushing both of you aside in a rough, protective, intense gesture.

Five Hargreeves was on the stair railing, fighting Jayme, when Klaus's screams grab his attention. He didn't have much time to process what he was seeing, but the moment one of Diego's daggers slashed across your cheek, the primal, visceral instinct he'd felt so long ago, with The Handler on The Commission, roared through him like an angry beast. So when another dagger was wielded and thrown into the air, he didn't think twice, didn't hesitate, didn't blink.

Dropping everything behind, Five Hargreeves dove into the blue flash, having you as the only focus in mind.

As soon as the crash of his body with yours caused you both to leave the deadly path, the arms, masculine and wide, wrapped around your back as if he were holding the only anchorage on the high seas in the middle of a storm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and as much that adrenaline, primal instinct and rage were bubbling through his body, he still managed to feel his soul sighing in deep relief when felt your warmth again in his arms.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Diego's angry roar seemed to shake the walls, but didn't stop the obstinate, angry look that swallowed Five's expression.

“Diego…” his voice didn't match the situation the Hargreeves found themselves in. His tone was serious, steady, so calm it was terrifying, like the warning of darkness to the light. “Stay away from her.”

His brother's confused and perplexed look couldn't have been more accentuated. And even Klaus, known for being the least serious about situations, looked completely astonished. Five Hargreeves didn't held you like he was preventing a murder. No. He held you like Cerberus should have held the only person he was ever loyal to.

"You are fucking crazy?!" Diego gestured with his hands “Let go the enemy now!”

The Hargreeves have been through a lot, seen a lot. Many of them being absurd, beyond any rationality or law of physics, moments in which they had to deal with situations that were not possible to be of this world. But nothing, and no one, could have prepared Diego and Klaus for what they heard from Five;

"Never."

The moment was dispersed when Viktor appeared in the room, shaking, hurt, out of his mind. His head fell back in a single gesture, his arms opened up and the fists closed, as white lights began to shoot out from within his eyes and chest.

Five Hargreeves knew what that meant.

He didn't think twice before running to the side, hiding you behind the bar counter and lowering you two bodies to the floor. His body in front of yours, blocking access to the roughest impact in you.

You two had three seconds, three seconds to look into each other's eyes before the flash explodes. And in that three seconds, the only thing that passed in the soul of both of you was the feeling of finally being where should be.

-----------

"They're stupid villains who think they're smart!" Ben was furious in the kitchen, pacing back and forth.

The last few days had passed like this. With Ben angry about the invasion, Ben angry about the fight, Ben angry about Marcus disappearing, Ben angry about... well... he was always angry.

Of all your siblings, he had the worst temper. Fei and Christopher were practically his dogs, going along with all of Ben's stupid plans just because... you really didn't know why they followed him so fervently, but had a theory that it was because they both thought they would have more power when Ben's plans came to fruition.

A hierarchical system that filled the family with toxicity.

On the other hand, there were Jayme and Alphonso. You never really understood the two, but you described them as bullies. A duo who liked the power they had and how they managed to exert it over people.

The only one you could relate to more deeply was Sloane.

"It would have been better if Y/n had made an attack." Alphonso brought your name up in conversation, his gaze full of rancor.

"Fuck off, asshole" It was the only thing you deigned to say, because you didn't have the patience to deal with his comments at the time.

The truth is, since the invasion, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

It was like a drug, an addiction, that had seeped into your blood from the first time you laid eyes on him. There was something there, something you could never explain. He should be the enemy. Your enemy. But…

The way he saved you from the knives, the way his arms wrapped around you. Almost like he already knows how to hold you. How to protect you.

Your heart couldn't slow down whenever your thoughts returned to that man. From the memory of him placing his body in front of you, standing at the forefront of the explosion.

He saved you. Everytime. And there was something that told you he would save you every chance he got.

The truth was…you wanted to see him. Know his name. Talk with him. There was no longer a fiber of your being that saw the situation as your siblingsdid, your body was facing the complete opposite north.

You wanted to touch him, not fight with him.

When time passed, and Luther showed up at the mansion as someone who was kidnapped, you, again, did not see the situation as a beneficial opportunity for your family. But for you.

Suddenly, your entire soul was gripped by a completely unsettling anxiety that made your hands itch, stomach churn, and your legs unable to stay still. Then you were swept by a feeling of deep sadness, as if you'd already experienced what it was like to spend your whole life wanting to see that man and never getting.

There was no more logic, rationality or coherence to what you were feeling, but finding him was as indispensable as breathing.

That's why you volunteered - more like an imposition - that you would be the one to escort Luther home the moment Ben said he could leave.

“It was kind of you to accompany me” The blond man smiled at you, as the two of you walked through the night streets.

"It was nothing." You tried to sound casual, but with every step toward your destination, the more your hands itched, the more your heart was racing, and in a moment, you found yourself picking up the pace to get there faster.

“I have to confess that you were a topic of discussion between my brothers.” Luther laughed, his odd way of bringing up the subject and not mincing words.

But that got your attention. "What do you mean?"

“A-ahem…well…from what I understand, Diego wanted to kill you, but Five stopped him and…”

Five…Five

His name was Five.

Something inside you stirred. An unfamiliar emotion, but one that made a smile rise to yourcheeks.

“Five” you tried to say aloud, and his name just… felt right on your lips.

You went the rest of the way not being able to pay attention to a single syllable Luther was saying. You don't wanted to be rude, but you just… couldn't stop thinking about Five.

“How long before we get there?” you cut off something Luther was saying about Sloane, and the blond eyebrows drawing together in strangeness.

“Actually” he looked at the big hotel in front of him “We already arrived and…”

But you couldn't stop yourself. All of your muscles felt like they had undergone countless electrical discharges, your heart was faster than any living soul has ever been, and your blood was rushing through your veins like marathon runners. You increased your pace considerably, quickly climbing the steps and opening the doors of that building as if you had just walked through the gates of paradise.

You needed to see him.

Luther came up behind you, giving you a suspicious look and walking towards a bar, where the outlines of several people were talking.

-----------

"I returned." Luther's voice brought Five out of his thoughts, and a part of her brain tried to remember the time his brother had left.

And he didn't find any answers.

To his defence, Five's mind had been elsewhere these days. Moments when he rewound in his mind once, twice, three times. Not even the impending new apocalypse knocking on the door seemed to have any effect on Five. To be honest, he… saw no point in trying to save the world this time. Meeting you once was a miracle, but meeting you again, in an entirely different reality and without The Commission making things difficult, seemed like too much of a luxury for him to ignore.

The truth was that in the first attempt to escape the apocalypse he ended up sending the family to different times, with intervals of years between each one. And, deep down, he didn't know if he could handle trying to take you with him to another reality and end up losing you too.

Five had been through this once before. He knew pain too well not to be willing to risk it.

“What is the enemy doing here?!"

Diego's voice snapped Five out of his thoughts, and an electric current shot through his head and reverberated down to his toes. Immediately, without any hesitation, his eyes flew away, finding not just Luther - whit several bags in hand - but you beside him.

You.

Something inside him ignited, his heart raced and, for a moment, the whole world around him fell away.

But just for a moment, because Diego was already getting up from his seat.

“Hey. Hey!” Five teleported away, once again placing the body in front of you . “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“What would anyone do to the enemy! What are you doing? Defending a stranger again?!"

“She is not a stranger, Diego. Now be quiet in your place before I have to do it for you.”

"She is not?" Klaus and Viktor said in unison

"I'm not?" Your voice, the only one that mattered to him, came from behind his back, quieter than the others but loud enough for him to hear.

Five turned towards you, turning his back on his siblings. Unlike how he looked at Diego, his eyes held all the softness and attention in the world when they met yours. A small smile appeared at the corner of his left mouth, a secret smile, hidden from the world but revealed only to you.

"It's a long story," he admitted, having no idea how to start. How to tell something that even to him don't make sense.

“I came to see you.” you rewarded his honesty with another truth, a gleam crossing his eyes like shooting stars. “I have time to listen.”

A smile blossomed on his lips, and Five was overcome by the purest feeling of happiness. Without saying anything, or giving anyone satisfaction, his hand laced into yours, and he disappeared with you in the blue flash.

-----------

Any sensible, practical, centered woman, would have laughed at what Five had just told you. Anyone who didn't get carried away by matters of the heart and didn't believe that two people, when destined to be together, are helped even by the wind, would have turned around and walked away.

But you weren't a sensible woman, nor practical, much less centered. Your being was composed of romance, adventure and magic. You fervently believed in destiny, soulmates and that some loves are capable of overcoming the barrier of space and time.

What's more, if all that wasn't enough, you also felt, from your soul to your bones, sensations that couldn't be explained. Feelings he was also saying he felt too. You believed in him. And that fact came as soft as the droplets of dew, as the brightness of the moon.

After his account came to end, with him letting himself be vulnerable in telling all the thoughts that ever crossed his mind about you, the urge to say just one thing screamed your blood rumbling. “You’re no the villain in my story” your words hung in the air.

“I am,” Five's voice brimmed with a liquid honesty that was able to chill your bones, but nothing in his words hinted at remorse for the things he'd already done. “But i'll be the villain for you. Not to you. I'll let worlds burn again if it means keeping you alive. In a problematic way, that I'll never be able to explain, I don't feel guilty about doing something if it means your safety.”

Five Hargreeves expected many things. Many different reactions. Many words of contradiction. But never what happened next.

Your mouth, without any hesitation, joined his in a kiss that was capable of making his world explode. His body was ignited by a fire that swallowed even his soul, washing away all his sins and giving a demon a taste of heaven.

So what was it like to kiss a goddess? An angel, a muse.

If before, without even touching your skin without the interference of clothing, Five would have happily accepted going to hell, now, with your hot mouth melting into his like warm honey, he would accept the torture of eternal fire with a smile on his face.

And when the small kiss intensified into something much bigger, his hands, warm and masculine, wrapped possessively around your waist. There was no going back. There was no turning back. Five would keep you for himself in the same selfishness that a villain steals a princess. And there was no hero in the world capable of pulling you away of his clutches.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He found the last bit of strength to let you know when your hands untied his tie “I could really hurt you.”

But all good intentions evaporated when your eyes, eager and full of desire, blinked at him. There was an addictive sweetness in that look. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the way your eyes held tinges of delicious submission but hid an incendiary fire behind them.

Fucking damn. He wanted you so badly.

"I don't care." Your breathless whisper invaded the room. But he didn't know if you understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Y/n.” his hands cupped your face. “I spent a lot of time contenting just for the way you looked at me. Spending sleepless nights reliving what it was like to feel the contour of your waist in my hand.” His voice was serious, deep, rough like sand scraping against stone. “Do you have any idea of the things I'm going to do to you now that I can finally, finally, have you?” his pitch lowered a few notes, like a predator talking to its prey.

You didn't know it, but only imagination made yours thighs tighten.

“I can destroy you.” his lips went to the foot of your ear, down to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent and tasting you. “I can leave your body purple, your breasts bitten, your hips marked by the aggressiveness of mine whenever I enter on you.”

A moan escaped your mouth, fingers tightening on his arms, head lolling to the side.

Oh lord, please he do that.

Five's hands went up to your shoulders, in a touch that became more and more possessive, gluttonous, as if he wanted to swallow you.

“I can spend hours fucking you.” his fingers lowered the straps of your dress, letting the fabric fall unceremoniously to the floor. Five pulled his face away enough to be able to look at your body fully, and a husky growl followed right away. “I can kill you.”

Here, in that moment, Five Hargreeves was giving you one last chance to give up, to make him tame the villain he was and who would destroy you for any other man.

If you slept with Five Hargreeves, you would never stop being his.

"Do it." but you didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in the inner body "please."

You didn't have to beg twice. His hands pulled your legs up, making you place your feet on his hips and hug him with your legs. Your back hit the closed bedroom door as Hargreeves' mouth claimed all it could of his. Twisting your tongue around his, biting and sucking on your bottom lip, he was beginning to mark you as his in a single kiss.

“You have no idea how much I want you.” his confession was more of a hoarse groan, hands fumbling with his belt and lowering the waistband of his pants.

Under other circumstances, he would have sucked you until drive you unconscious, pushing your walls with his fingers until you begged for his cock. But he didn't have the presence of mind to do that now. Not now. Not today. He warned of the consequences of wanting to continue at that moment. But you wanted, you begged, and now he was no longer afraid of being able to fuck you with all the vehemence he needed.

Your moans invaded the room very quickly, your waist, even if limited by the door, moved in his groin, exorcising any common sense and control that Five once had.

He pushed your panties to the side impolitely and entered you in one single, glorious, primal thrust. His cock slid in with extreme ease, being completely soaked by the way your pussy was so slick.

“Oh fucking hell” his growl sent even more waves of pleasure to your uterus, and you pressed your mouth to his neck to keep from screaming.

That's when he withdrew and pushed himself into you. Strong, brute. Hitting until found the bottom of the well. His thrusts began relentlessly, thrusting in and out of you aggressively, possessively, almost animalistic. Five's hands were all over yourbody, fingerprinting every bit of your flesh. The nails digging into your waist when you contracted and squeezed him within your plush walls.

“Fuck. fuck.” his groans mingled with the attrition of the bodies of you two against the door, which sent loud, telltale noises throughout the hotel.

But you would rather die than stop.

His cock suddenly hit a place that made your moans come out too loud. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes, and your toes curled.

“Oh do you feel this, baby?” Five teased you, digging himself as deep as possible anatomically and rubbing the tip of his cock there, eliciting sly, desperate cries from you "That's your cervix."

Then he went back to fucking you aggressively, this time pulling his chest away from you and digging his hands hard into the flesh of your hips, pulling you towards him at a intensity that could only be described as animalistic.

This was better than anything he had ever tasted in his life. Better than any sin. Better than any whiskey.

His cock desecrated your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, pulling thick liquids out of you that enveloped him in pasty white rings. Five Hargreeves would ensure that whenever you thought of any man, your mind was invaded by the way he fucked you.

"I will… I will…" your tearful voice blended with the noise of the door slamming and your bodies bumping into each other.

“Thats right, baby” his mouth covered your “cum for me. cum so I can fill that gluttonous pussy with my cum.”

If the way he thrust in and out of you wasn't enough to make you come, his lines had done the job. You came in a glorious explosion of stars, colors and sensations. Your body contracted with absurd force and relaxed like the best of massages. Your arms went limp around his neck, and you could feel his cock tremble and the hot, thick liquid fill your entire pussy.

The noise of the door stopped, his moans calmed down and now the only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing in the air.

You thought it was over, until Five climbs a hand to your neck and lets out a broken growl "'You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, baby."

His cock moved inside you, moving in and out smoothly, pushing his cum even deeper inside you. Make sure you gobble it all up.

“Did you think we were done, princess?” he chuckled evilly, his lips moving closer until they were inches from yours. "I'm just getting started. I'm going to show you how much I've wanted you this whole fucking time.”

3K notes · View notes

ebsmind · 6 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 ❀ tom blyth x fem!singer reader

summary : readers reputation isn’t all that good but who cares since she’s met the love of her life

warning(s) : reader gets slut shamed :( but that’s it

a/n : i’m going to be real honest i wanted to use hailee steinfeld as the fc BUT i just had to do olivia bc she’s so me and i listened to delicate by taylor swift about 10 times while i made this 🙃

i also had a really hard time coming up with why the readers reputation is 👎🏼 so i kinda just went with the whole olivia and sabrina thing but it’s reversed!! 😼 (so instead of olivia getting broken up with it’s sabrina who got broken up with)

ynuser happiness 🙃

view all comments

user1 oh so ur happy bc ur a home wrecker?

user2 yikes…

user3 Y/N PLS I CANNOT KEEP DEFENDING YOU GIRL

user4 y’all don’t even know the full story pls

user5 she’s such a slut

*comments have been disabled

ynuserupdates the tea is popping hot between these three! y/n rodrigo has now claimed that she has never had any romantic relationship with joshua basset…will sabrina carpenter clear the air between the situation??

view all comments

user1 she SPOKE on the situation??

↳ user2 yeah she went on a podcast

user3 oh shit

user4 this is why yall shouldn’t believe everything on the internet 😭

user5 poor y/n and sabrina :(

↳ user6 all over a guy too :(

user7 guys will always be the problem

ynuser i’m soooo excited to announce that i wrote a song called Can’t Catch Me Now for the new Hunger Games : The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie!!! 🕊️🐍🧡

view all comments

rachelzegler THATS MY GIRL!!!

user1 sis really said lemme just make the greatest comeback of all time

user2 oh she’s slaying ur honor

hunterschafer the best person who could’ve written a song for this movie

tomblyth so proud of you

user3 TOMS COMMENT OMG???

user4 i just KNOW this song is gonna be so good

user5 girl was probably finishing up writing this song when the whole sabrina and josh thing was going on 😭😭

thehungergames 🧡🧡🧡

ynuser life recently 🖤

view all comments

user1 Y/N WHOS THE BOY

rachelzegler SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH

tomblyth cutie

❤️ by creator

↳ user2 SHUT UP OMG

user3 TOM AND Y/N????

user4 SOFT LAUNCH MY ASSSSS RACHEL

user5 pls wasn’t she just with that josh guy?

↳ user6 girl she went on a podcast and said it was a fake rumor

user7 oh this next album is gonna HIT

❤️ by creator

tomblyth premier day

tagged : @/ynuser , @/rachelzegler , @/hunterschafer , @/thehungergames

view all comments

ynuser hey that’s me!!!

ynuser took the last pic on tom’s phone

❤️ by creator

rachelzegler oh we ate that

user1 y’all SLAYEDDDD

user2 stream can’t catch me now yall ✌️

❤️ by creator

user3 y/n taking a .5 on tom’s phone is so cute

↳ user4 no literally they are my PARENTSSSS

user5 the girls are slaying ur honor

hunterschafer love you!!

tomblyth added to their story!

ynuser delicate mv out now!!

tagged : @/tomblyth

tomblyth i’m in love with you

↳ ynuser i love you more

user1 OH MY GODODJNSND

user2 AN ALBUM IS COMING

user3 BRO TOM BEING IN THE MUSIC VIDEO I CANT???

user4 NOW THIS WAS A HARD LAUNCH

rachelzegler omg the cats finally out of the bag I CAN TALK ABOUT THEM NOW

↳ ynuser PLSSSS sis was eager and almost spilled the beans like a week ago 😭

↳ rachelzegler i just LOVE YALL SO MUCH

hunterschafer such a perfect song for a perfect couple 🖤

user5 i cannot do this today

user6 joshua basset is def crying in the corner

↳ user7 NAH FR HE FUMBLED HER AND SABRINA

conangray ate

user8 y/n be so fr we been knew since the announcement of can’t catch me now

❤️ by creator

#tom blyth #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow imagine #social media #social media au #ebs writes things!#userebs

478 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 7 months

Text

Your desire

⬦Sugar daddy!Seonghwa⬦

TW: suggestive

Word count: 3,9k

A/N: I hate the grip Ateez has on me, I have never ever written so many drabbles or whatever, I'm a long story kinda gal but here they are...torturing me. Anyways, Seonghwa went ahead and posted on IG today and when I saw him my mind instantly went omg that's some sugar daddy vibes, idk why, don't ask, thank you. Feedback is very much so appreciated! Enjoy!

I really would have never imagined a year ago that I would be attending such an event like this one. It was even shocking to myself. But it looked like I was the only one who felt out of place as the people surrounding me seemed to know each other as they indulged in small talk and friendly chatter as if they were old friends catching up. The silky dress felt too tight against my skin and I couldn’t help but pull on it, hoping by some miracle that it would loosen up and wouldn’t wrap around my ribs as it was trying to suffocate me. The little golden purse I clutched in my hands tightly was expensive, too expensive, an item I could’ve never afforded by myself. I wasn’t into fancy things, so even if I could’ve afforded it at some point in life, I still wouldn’t have purchased it. The faces of people seemed to merge into one as I took a sip of my champagne, smiling politely when the older man next to me pointed his glass in my direction before taking a sip himself. I wished I were invisible, but the red dress and the red matching lips only placed me in the spotlight. And if it weren’t for my outfit, being by the side of Park Seonghwa, a successful and young CEO, definitely put me in the spotlight. I could feel the curious gazes of men and women alike, even the envy as some whispered as Seonghwa and I glided through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. He said he needed something strong, perhaps some whiskey, as the people around us were giving him a headache. Currently, we were conversing with an elderly pair who were big names in the makeup industry, Choi San having joined us not too long ago. He was a rising CEO, almost always in the spotlight, as his magazine was becoming bigger and bigger, visited by more and more celebrities lately. He was Seonghwa’s biggest competitor, constantly challenging him publicly and often mentioning him when it had nothing to do with Seonghwa. Choi San liked to provoke people and taunt, living off of the hate and attention directed his way. I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to spot all these things, it was clear as day as he flashed his white teeth in the direction of the elderly pair, bragging about last month’s issue and how much money it made. The elderly pair didn’t seem too impressed, but they congratulated him before diverting their attention back onto Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for San to stop his theatrics. If I wouldn’t have known Seonghwa so well, I would’ve never known he was irritated, his jaw barely clenched, grip just a little too tight on his glass of champagne. I quietly cleared my throat, getting his attention. His round eyes watched me, face devoid of any emotion, but the glimmer in his eyes assured me that he was feeling fine. I offered him a small smile and his cheeks twitched before he looked away, focusing back on the elderly pair. They were laughing about something I didn’t bother paying attention to, eyes falling on an already staring Choi San as I took another sip of my champagne. It almost made me choke; I couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, but I only had eyes for Seonghwa. At least for now.

“I’ve heard about the deal you made with an American firm,” San spoke up with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in Seonghwa’s direction, “Congratulations, breaking through on the American market isn’t something easy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, but it lacked humor, “San, when I made my breakthrough on the American market you were still running around, trying to find a headquarter for your company.”

The elderly pair laughed at the very harmless jab, but San’s smirk slightly faded, annoyed by Seonghwa’s comeback. He was probably right, but I wouldn’t know, I have never been interested in their world of business.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” The sudden shift of conversation made me tense as the eyes of four people fell on me, San’s a little hungrier than the rest. I forced a smile on my face, grip tightening on the glass of champagne. I wished the dress didn’t show as much cleavage as it did, and that my hair wasn’t in a low bun, unable to cover my shoulders, “Isn’t that necklace—”

“The latest Saint Laurent Teardrop Chain Links Necklace?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his whiskey, “It is, San. And it’s custom made.”

San’s eyes fell back one me and I cleared my throat, feeling awkward, as the elderly lady eyed me a little bit suspiciously, I felt obliged to speak up, “It’s not something I usually wear, but Seonghwa insisted.”

“I think I have seen that dress on a magazine cover, not too long ago.” The elderly lady noted, eyes narrowed at me. I felt like they could tell how poor I actually was compared to them. It felt like a paper with the words ‘intruder’ was glued to my back and everyone was staring, pointing their fingers at me, or whispering vile things. I gulped, but before I could speak up, I felt an arm sneak around my shoulders, squeezing my arm lightly.

“You have seen it right, then, Mrs. Eom, it was on my magazine.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, sending me a wink which made me slightly blush. The day he saw it on the mannequin he sent me a picture and texted me that he’d get it for me. I refused, because it was truly too much and it also cost a lot, and also, I didn’t really have a fitting event where I would wear it to. So, I guess Seonghwa had to do something about that and that’s how I was dragged along to this fundraiser for disabled people. This wasn’t something which had been in the contract I have signed two months ago, but I didn’t dare bring it up when Seonghwa showed up to my apartment in the morning, holding two designer boxes and a designer paper bag. He said he didn’t have time to have breakfast with me, but he expected to see me in the evening, wearing everything he handed me. Before I could accept or refuse him, he was running off, phone at his ear as he spoke to someone important. I could only sigh and hope for a dinner in a very fancy restaurant, instead I found myself at a place infested with very important and insanely rich people. I was sure I even saw the prime minister like half an hour ago.

“Oh, delightful!” Mrs. Eom exclaimed, but no emotion came through her voice, eyes watching me almost accusingly. Why did an old hag have beef with me when she didn’t even know me? Before I could say something inappropriate, Seonghwa gave my shoulder another squeeze, swiftly taking his arm off my body. He seemed to know me well too, a glance at my face and he was able to tell what I was feeling and thinking. We hadn’t spent too much time together in these past two months, but it felt like we understood each other on a deeper level, beyond words even. I looked around as the orchestra started playing, the front of the room slightly clearing as people made place for those dancing. My eyes fell back onto Seonghwa, and as his eyes were trained somewhere else, I dared staring at him openly. He was an absolutely gorgeous man, breathtaking even. His black hair was slicked back with three strands framing the right side of his face, longer strands than the others poking around on his nape. His shoulders were relaxed yet his posture was straight and proper. His silky black shirt, with three buttons undone at the top, was tucked inside his black dress pants, an Yves Saint Laurent belt keeping his outfit together. The black velvet coat reached just bellow his thighs and his Yves Saint Laurent shoulder bag had been disregarded a while ago at the table we sat at. Despite my obvious staring, Seonghwa remained oblivious to it, however, San didn’t. His eyes were narrowed and lips pulled into a grin as we made eye contact. My cheeks burned and I quickly averted my eyes. Catching feelings wasn’t written into the contract, or what would happen if Seonghwa and I did fall for each other, a thing which was far from happening. I wasn’t in love with him, but I had eyes, and I found him extremely attractive. Whether he was dressed up or wore something casual, Seonghwa always looked spectacular. As a waiter passed with a tray in their hands, San quickly placed his empty glass on it and cleared his throat, interlacing his hands in front of himself.

“Miss Y/N, may I have the honor to dance with you first tonight?” San’s eyebrows were raised as he looked at me with a smirk and I stared at him without a reaction. Was I allowed to dance with him? Seonghwa was right next to me, he certainly wouldn’t like that. And I didn’t want to dance with him either, he sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable with his unnecessary comments and over the top compliments. But before anyone could interject, San took two steps towards me and then grabbed my left hand carefully, a smile erupting on his face, “Come.”

And before I could refuse him, he was pulling me after himself, making me hand my purse over to Seonghwa in a hurry as San lead the way to the dance floor. I felt awkward as curious eyes watched us, some people greeting San as we passed by. His grip turned firm and I could feel my palm get sweaty as I braced myself for what was to come. It couldn’t be that bad, besides, I would only dance with him for a short amount of time before I would excuse myself to the bathroom in hopes of getting away from him. San stopped in the center, facing me with a charming smile, sharp eyes watching me closely. I cleared my throat and placed my hand on his shoulder, allowing his hand on my lower back to pull me closer towards himself. I slightly tensed, but willed myself to relax in his arms. I didn’t quite enjoy dancing with Seonghwa’s competitor and biggest rival, especially not when I knew how much distaste Seonghwa had towards San.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Y/N,” San spoke up as he swayed us to the slow beat of the orchestra, “I didn’t think you’d attend such an event.”

San didn’t know what type of relationship was between Seonghwa and I, but he has seen us together quite often, always bugging Seonghwa whether I was his girlfriend or not. I most certainly wasn’t.

“It came as a surprise to me as well.” I admitted quietly, focusing on not stepping on San’s feet or on my own dress. The high heels were also slightly uncomfortable, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every move I made.

“So, Seonghwa didn’t plan on bringing you along, huh?” A satisfied smirk made it onto San’s face and I sighed, looking over his shoulder.

“He most certainly did since I’m here, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but slightly snap, sending him the smallest glare as we made eye contact.

“Of course,” San chuckled, pulling his eyebrows up, “he wouldn’t want to leave behind his eye candy.”

His comment didn’t sit well with me, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let it go, not wanting to give San the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed. He waited a few more seconds, probably thinking I was formulating my answer, but when the silence continued to stretch on, San chuckled to himself, looking amused as I dared take a glance at him.

“Everything you’re wearing tonight is quite expensive, isn’t it?” He continued, eyes running over my frame. It certainly felt uncomfortable as I could easily spot the lust in them as his eyes stayed a little too long on my exposed collarbones.

“Yes, they were expensive.” I hummed, looking over his shoulder when San glanced at my face.

“Bought them yourself?” His tone feigned innocence, but the smirk on his lips made it obvious that he was prodding and jabbing, “Didn’t think a university student could afford all of these things, to be honest.”

I gulped as my throat felt suddenly dry, heartrate picking up. Of course I couldn’t afford what I was wearing tonight, two months ago I could barely pay rent and the tuition fees for my course at the university. Seonghwa seemed like an angel in disguise at the time, however, lately I’ve been feeling guilty for accepting all of his money instead of trying to make some myself. In my defense, my itinerary was so packed I could barely find a place which would hire me even half norm, it was frustrating.

“Some of these were gifts.” I opted to answer, clearing my throat when San’s fingers slightly dug into my lower back, pulling me even closer to himself. Our bodies were almost touching, his musky scent invaded my nostrils. I certainly didn’t like it.

“You know,” He spoke up again, eyebrows furrowed, “Seonghwa is quite known for changing partners after like…half a year, I guess his standards are too high or something. Unless…”

My heartbeat paused for a second as I looked San in the eyes, “Unless, you’re not his girlfriend but his whore—”

“I think you’ve spent enough time with Y/N for a lifetime, Choi San.” The sudden harsh voice made me flinch as I carefully peeled myself away from San, heart beating like crazy as I turned my head. I was met with a furious looking Seonghwa, kind eyes pulled into slits as he glared San down, jaw clenched. I noticed the people around us glancing our way, and when my eyes fell on San his chest was puffed out and eyes challenging as he stared down the taller man.

“Seonghwa,” I whispered and curled my fingers around his bicep, getting his attention, “He’s not worth causing a scene, let it go.”

His eyes bore into mine as I heard San scoff at my words, but before he could open his annoying mouth and say something else, Seonghwa gripped the hand I had around his bicep and peeled it off, hand slipping to my wrist as he turned around and took off, steps hurried. I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels and even ran into someone, having to hastily apologize as Seonghwa wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I noticed the direction we were storming in, the restrooms. I gulped and realized Seonghwa was angry and needed time away from everyone, probably to give me a lecture and break off the contract we had. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask for the money back; I couldn’t remember if that was a clause or not in the contract. We rounded the corner and Seonghwa kicked the door of the restroom open with his foot, shoulders raising and falling rapidly as we entered the men’s restroom. A guy, who looked like security, was washing his hands, pausing when he noticed us.

“Sir—”

“Get out.” Seonghwa’s voice was low as he glared at the poor security guard, who seemed to be speechless for a few seconds.

“This is the men’s restroom—”

“And I said, get out.” Seonghwa emphasized his words again, staring daggers at the unbudging security guard, seemingly a glaring match breaking out between them. My nerves were rising, and I tapped my heel against the floor, biting my lower lip when nobody moved.

“Seonghwa.” I called out for him, but he didn’t look away from the security guard. However, the man broke his staring contest and looked at me, taken aback.

“Park Seonghwa?” He asked amazed and as I nodded, he quickly bowed his head and scurried out, making me let out a long sigh. My shoulders slouched forward as I pulled my hand out of Seonghwa’s, which made him whirl around and look at me with a sharp stare. I gulped and suddenly felt small underneath his eyes as his fury was directed at me only.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dance with San, but I don’t think I had much of a chance,” I found myself explaining quickly, “And I didn’t want to cause a scene which would damage your reputation.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before releasing it, jaw clenching, “You’re not my whore, Y/N, you’re my sugar baby.”

I bit my lower lip, the term still making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. I looked at the floor as Seonghwa sighed loudly again, realizing that he was angry at San and not me, having overheard his words.

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered as I saw Seonghwa’s polished shoes come into view as I was still looking down.

“You didn’t want to come tonight and I forced you into coming, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he looked guilty as I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t force me, what are you talking about?” I asked confused.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were feeling all night.” He explained, playing with the rings on his fingers, “I also should’ve chosen a dress less revealing knowing your preferences, I’m sorry for that too—”

“Seonghwa, this dress is gorgeous!” I said with a chuckle as I pointed at it, hands shimmying down my hips, “Albeit a bit too revealing, and too expensive, but it’s beautiful and I appreciate your gesture, I hope you know that. Regardless of how I’ve been feeling tonight.”

Seonghwa gulped and took a step closer, eyes running over my frame before he looked back up into my eyes, “You are gorgeous, not the dress, Y/N. That’s just a piece of fabric.”

My cheeks flushed at his words and I averted my eyes shyly, feeling Seonghwa’s soft fingers grip my chin as he made me look at him again. He stepped even closer and his warmth wrapped around me, fruity scent enveloping me and making me shiver. Seonghwa certainly noticed as he studied my face for a reaction, but I was trying hard to contain the fluster I was feeling and my frantic heartbeat.

“Our contract is coming to an end next month,” Seonghwa whispered, as if he was afraid anyone would hear us, there was nobody but us inside the spacious and marble covered restroom, “Let’s extend it for another six months.”

“Six months?” I asked surprised, remembering well that Seonghwa’s contracts only lasted for three months. He hummed and nodded as he closed the gap between our bodies, tilting my head slightly up. It was rare that he stood so close and held me so boldly. We were rarely physical with each other, the occasional hand holding and kisses on the cheeks happened when I was feeling down or Seonghwa was feeling tired, and we made out a couple of times here and there when we were drunk. The contract made it clear that everything had to be consensual and if one person refused, it shouldn’t be brought up until they were ready to talk about it or made it obvious that they wanted it to happen. Seonghwa was a respectful and well-mannered man, there were few others like him, if none at all. My lips slightly parted as Seonghwa’s eyes fell on my lips and I closed my eyes when he started leaning in slowly, lips pressing against mine carefully, experimentally. It was so light that if I were to pull away, it felt like it never happened, but instead, I pressed myself firmly against him, Seonghwa’s hand coming to hold the side of my face. Our lips moved slowly against each other, testing, searching, savoring the other’s lips. My hands rested against his chest as his free hand went to hold my waist, slowly slipping to the place where San held onto earlier, my lower back. This time, goosebumps erupted on my skin and I slightly shuddered against Seonghwa as his long fingers dug into my skin, his lips picking up pace. I matched his feverish kisses, desperately wanting to tangle my fingers into the hair against his nape, but not wanting to mess up his hairstyle, so instead, I gripped the collar of his velvet coat, my other hand going around his shoulder. Seonghwa pulled me into himself totally, chests pressing together painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, carefully pressing his tongue against my mouth. I understood what he wanted and parted my lips for him, granting him access as he tilted my head up even more, hands clutching onto me firmly, his tongue carefully exploring my warm mouth. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking, and cherry. He loved cherry candies; he had probably eaten one not long before. My nose pushed against his cheek as our tongues tangled together, lapping at each other, a fire ignited inside me as my hand slipped up to his nape. Before I could second guess myself, I allowed my fingers to tangle into the short strands and I tugged on them, Seonghwa’s hand abruptly slipping down to my ass as he gave it a firm squeeze, making me gasp into his mouth. He took that momentum to suck on my tongue and suddenly my knees felt weak from the lack of air, but not just. I could devour him right here, but that wasn’t very lady like, nor too smart. Anyone could enter the restroom anytime. And despite the urgency in Seonghwa’s kiss, he sucked on my lower lip as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine. He was panting and I had to wipe the corner of my mouth as saliva threatened to drip down.

“Let’s do six months.” I rasped out, in the process of catching my breath. As I opened my eyes, I watched as Seonghwa’s teeth was attached to his plump lower lip, a deep hum leaving his throat as he agreed with my final answer.

“Good, I’ve still got a lot to offer to you.” He said as he opened his eyes and a smile instantly appeared on his lips. And then, his finger was rubbing underneath my lower lip and the corner of my mouth, chuckling as my own eyes fell onto Seonghwa’s unnaturally red lips. It made me blush as I allowed him to fix me up, hand giving my ass another squeeze, making me gasp as I jumped. The amused smile disappeared from his lips as a pleased smirk took its place.

“Let’s dance?” He asked and I nodded wordlessly, mesmerized by his voice and eyes as Seonghwa took a step back, hands falling from my body as I detached myself from him too, gulping nervously. He extended a hand and I placed my palm in his, fingers intertwining as he lead us towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind having Seonghwa as my sugar daddy for another six months, not if he would kiss me again and again like he kissed me tonight.

Masterlist (divider)

492 notes · View notes

elvensixpm · 6 months

Text

"Death Is Calling" [A Date With Death ]

IM IN LOVE WITH HIM ALSO errmm take this small fanfic ?!? I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN FANFICS BEFORE SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ MY HEART IS SO FULL OF HIM omg

// spoiler warnings for Ending 3 //

‎ ‎ ‎ When you first kiss Casper, you are pleasantly surprised by how receptive he is.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Your lips press against his, soft and gentle as he lays on your bed, caged by your arms. With his chest pressed against yours, you could feel his heartbeat thumping against his chest, strong— alive. Life thrums in his veins, evident more when you press a kiss upon his neck; to which he lets out a soft moan, and his pulse quickens significantly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Not too much now,” he gasps, a gloved hand covering his mouth as he averts his gaze, almost like he is shy to your affections. “Oh, shit. Wow.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A laugh escapes you as you give him a final peck on his cheek, curiously flush but lacking warmth. His skin is cold. No matter. You have enough heat in you to warm him up.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You like it?” you ask, tilting your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. You roll to the side, plopping yourself next to him. “Was I a good first kiss, Grimmy?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He snorts. “Yes, of course you were.” He slides an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You comply, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder— breathing in his clean scent. “...And an excellent second kiss. And the six others that followed it were great, too.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Great! I'll make sure to add that to my resume.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He rolls his eyes but it's affection plastered onto his face— and he seemingly has no more energy to think of a clever remark to your sarcasm. He wraps his arms around you, chin resting against the crown of your head, your face flush against his chest as his eyelids flutter shut. You feel a pang of jealousy towards Azrael; was this what it was like to be cuddled in bed?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Sleep,” you murmur. “Get used to the bed, Casper. Get used to me.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Mmh.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Wait. Take off your clothes.” His eyes shoot open and he raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something. You cut him off before he can, sitting up. “I have a spare t-shirt you can wear.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Oh.” You swear disappointment flashes over his beautiful features. He catches your t-shirt when you toss it over to him, his mouth tightening into a small frown as he inspects the well-worn red and black thing— the print faded and slightly peeling. You avert your gaze as he strips himself, listening to the rustle of the fabric as he slides the t-shirt over his head. “You listen to System of A Down? Wasn't expecting that, sunshine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Eh. Helps me sleep at night.” You shrug as you keep your eyes trained on the bouquet of stolen sunflowers Casper gave you yesterday, warmth and affection blooming in your chest. You play with the fraying edges of your blanket as you wait for him to finish changing. “Keep it. Matches your whole red-and-black aesthetic, no?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He laughs, it sounds almost like a snort. “Thanks, sunshine. I can't wait to see what other merch I can steal from you next.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You turn back, pleasantly surprised at how well the t-shirt fits him— slightly oversized so that you could see a tease of porcelain skin from the way the neckline drapes along his exposed shoulder. Your gaze drops down to his lap, where he has taken hostage of one of your pillows— likely a temporary placeholder for Azrael.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You settle back into bed with him, taking your preferred side of the bed, removing the pillow from his arms and tucking yourself back into his arms. He doesn't complain.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It's a wonder how you both feel so comfortable with each other. You wrap him in an embrace, and he doesn't pull away; his arms slot perfectly between yours, and his touch is tender, not bearing the stiffness of unfamiliarity. It's almost as if you've known him your entire life.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Given the fact death has followed you since you were a child, maybe you have. Maybe Casper has grown alongside you, even if it isn't possible given reapers don't exactly ‘grow’. It's a pleasant thought. Sort of like a guardian angel, in a way.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Perhaps that is why you feel so comfortable around death— around him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His eyelashes rest upon his cheeks while he sleeps, and his breathing comes and goes in slow, steady breaths. You can't help but stare at him. He's pretty. And he's all yours.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Sleep,” he murmurs, as if sensing your alertness. His eyes open, and you feel a slight pang of regret at waking him— but that all melts away when you feel him run his fingers through your hair soothingly. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your shoulder. “I won't kill you in your sleep, you know. I'm a changed man.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I know, I know, thank you for that,” you chuckle, kissing the crown of his head. “I love you, Casper.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Mm.” His fingers rub soothing circles on your back, as if coaxing you to sleep, and his voice is tender with affection. “Love you too, sunshine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You listen to the steady breathing of Casper as he sleeps— a rhythmic melody that threatens to lull you off to sleep as well. You close your eyes and surrender. He snores rather softly, you come to find. You don't mind. Not at all.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ In the midst of life's chaos, you fall asleep in the arms of Death himself.

#a date with death #visual novel #grim reaper #two and a half studios #casper #fanart #i want to kiss him #mwah mwah

434 notes · View notes

peppertoastuniverse · 22 days

Text

pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

360 notes · View notes

daydreaming-nerd · 4 months

Text

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: omg guys the love part 1 received has been so amazing. I seriously am so happy you're all loving this fic as much as me. As someone who hasn't written in so long it's been so fufilling to write this. Thank you for all the kind words. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): SA, starting to get a little steamy

Word count: 2704

(all photos are from pinterest)

The next morning I woke with a certain lightness to my step that I knew shouldn’t be there. My hands skimmed over the countless dresses looking for just the right one. All of the sudden I had started caring more about my appearance for council meetings. Deep down I know why.

I meet my brother and Lucien in the foyer per usual, and I feel Lucien’s fiery gaze rake over the lavender chiffon draped over my body. I told myself that I had selected the revealing dress because of how hot the Day court was, but I think I had other motives backing my choice.

The Day Court, like all other courts, was utterly beautiful. Large pillars stood all around and like the summer court it was entirely open air, allowing the sunlight and breeze to float into the room. I sit between Lucien and Tamlin at a large table with the other High Lord’s and nobility. My eyes scan the room for a hint of that violet that I dreamt about last night but I don’t find it. It isn’t until a few minutes later, when my skin starts buzzing, that the High Lord of Night steps into the room. His presence commending, his eyes immediately finding mine.

I feel him pluck at the bond as if to say hello. After speaking to him through my mind for so long it was almost strange to see him in real life. Somehow he was always much more handsome in person. Like no matter how many times I tried to put together the image of his face at night it never compares to the sheer glory and presence of him.

As Helion began speaking a voice crawled into my head.

I’m glad you find me so glorious, darling.

“Shh you nosey High Lord. I’m trying to listen,” I silence him and to my surprise he obliges.

Helion talks on and on and of course there is arguing between Kallias and Beron as there usually is but I couldn’t begin to tell you what about. I spend the entire meeting noticing every move the High Lord of Night made. When he breathed, or flexed his hands, adjusted his spot on his seat. Whenever I felt his eyes sliding over to me I would do my best to evade them.

See something you like? I look over to him and find his eyes smirking.

“Yeah actually, Eris is looking especially delicious today,” I tease, I don’t break eye contact with him.

He chuckles brushing off my comment. You’re a vision in purple mate, but if Lucien looks at your cleavage one more time I might just leap across the table and rip his only good eye out.

“So violent,” I muse disapprovingly, looking towards where Kallias is speaking about potential war with Hybern.

I save my most brutal acts of violence for those who seek to harm you darling. My eyes flit back at him and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he averts his gaze back to Kallias.

“Enough talk of war my friends, let us adjourn this meeting until next week.” Helion finally says, causing the rest of the council to let out a breath.

Tamlin doesn’t say a word before he and Lucien stand and make a beeline to Tarquin, most likely to talk about problems we’ve been having on the border. I take it as my queue to walk around the Day Court’s terrace and I secretly hope that a certain High Lord follows me.

The Day Court and the Summer Court are like twin sisters. Except the Day Court always felt like liquid gold. All around me I could see clouds and honeyed sunlight peeking through the them. The rays warmed my skin as I basked in them, leaning against one of the many large pillars.

“I knew you’d look amazing in this light,” drawled that voice I had secretly wanted to hear.

I glance over to find The High Lord admiring me, the light of the Day Court doing wonders for him as well. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to act like I mean it.

“Yet you wanted me to follow you,” he smirks knowingly, slowly stepping towards me.

“What makes you say that?”

“This,” he says, pulling on the bond again. I take a sharp breath in and he chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that reaction.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” I grumble.

“No you don’t,” he muses using one arm to cage me into the pillar I’m leaning against.

“Yes I do,” I affirm. His other hand lifts my chin to meet his stare.

“No you don’t, you don’t hate anything about me. In fact you think I’m beautiful,” he smirks, somehow stepping even closer to me. “And, you want me to touch you right now, your skin is practically on fire for it.”

“My Lord-”

“I told you to call me Rhysand,” he cuts me off. I want to lie and tell him no, I want to push him away but I fear that even the action of me touching his chest, even for a moment, would be too much for me to bear.

“Rhys,” I breathe out. Before I can even think his lips are on mine swallowing the breath that held his name, just like he promised.

The kiss is hot and needy, built up from the last two weeks of torture. One of his hands finds my face while the other finds my waist. His frame presses me into the pillar behind me. I feel my body ignite in a way I didn’t know possible, I need him closer. I pull on the lapels of his jacket earning a low grumble from him.

“Say it again,” he says between kisses.

“Rhysand,” I moan, his name like a prayer on my lips.

“Fuck,” he groans before sliding a hand down under my knee and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. The slit in my dress parted for him, giving him full access to my bare leg. I feel his lips drag across my neck leaving opened mouth kisses on me. I practically come undone for him, the only thing keeping me upright are his hands and the pillar behind me.

In the distance I can hear footsteps clicking across the floor, in a panic I winnow both of us further away. He breaks apart the kiss and gives me a bewildered look.

“Sorry, someone was coming,” I say breathlessly.

“Let them see,” he grins before stepping closer to me. I take a step back and he halts his movements, surprised.

“We can’t, my brother will kill me, kill you.” I remind him.

He lets out a chuckle like he’s completely unphased, “I promise you that I hold more power in my pinky than Tamilin does in his entire body.” he boasts.

“Still,” I start. “You’re the High Lord of the Night Court, his sworn enemy, my court's sworn enemy. Think of what they would say about me if the truth came out. What they would say about you. You’d be the monster who stole away the princess of spring.” I ramble.

“I’ve been called a monster by those who know nothing but stories of me my whole life, what’s one more?” he states.

“I’ve heard stories of your court, that it’s the part of Prythian where the most feared monsters and beings of our kind reside,” I say fearfully. I start to remember who he is. Not just a pretty face, but the High Lord of the Night Court. He’s dangerous, and he is a monster.

“Part of that is true,” he affirms, and I can see a tinge of hurt in his eyes.

“And the other part?” I ask on bated breath.

“You’ll see soon enough mate,” he says.

“My Lord we cannot be together,” I state firmly.

“Back to formalities now are we?” he sighs. “I’ve waited 500 years to find my mate y/n, don’t think for one second that I’m going to stay away from you just because you’re afraid of that pathetic excuse for a brother.”

“He’s not pathetic, he loves me!” I growl.

“You don’t know half the things you think you do about your brother,” he sneered.

As much as I hated to admit it he was right. Tamlin and I had never truly been close. We hardly ever did anything together. I always sensed a darkness in him that I couldn’t place. There was so much he simply refused to tell me just because I was a woman. But I couldn't bear that truth to Rhys, not when I needed his silence.

“This conversation is over,” I huff before walking away, I feel him grasp my arm.

“No darling it’s not,” Rhys says with frustration in his eyes.

“Wanna bet?” I ask smugly before winnowing back to the Spring Court.

The next few days I don’t hear from Rhysand, and I don’t feel a tug on the bond. All of the sudden my life is filled with a sense of melancholy, I never had before. I had grown so used to his constant tugging on the bond or his remarks throughout my daily life that I felt a little empty without him.

So empty that I now found myself nudging around the food on my plate at dinner. Lucien had been out with the emissary of the Summer Court fixing the problems on the border, which meant it was just me and Tamlin.

We spend the whole meal in silence until he finally breaks it, “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he says, placing his napkin down on the table.

“What is it?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe he saw me and Rhysand the other day.

“I’ve been talking with Beron Vanserra, and it seems that his eldest son Eris has taken a liking to you. We think it might be in the best interest of our two courts if you two were to marry.” he says casually, as if the words weren’t a huge punch to the gut.

“What?” I breathe in disbelief.

“Come on y/n this has always been our plan, to get you an advantageous marriage.” he reminds me, irritation laced in his voice.

“Not my plan Tamlin, yours.” I seethe. “Eris is a viper, I won’t marry him.”

“You’ll do as you're told and that’s final!” he screams slamming his fists down on the table making the silverware rattle.

I leave my plate full of food on the table and get up. If I wasn’t hungry before I certainly am not now. I leave the dining room and make sure to slam the door on my way out. The halls of the palace were dark save for the moonlight drifting through the windows. My mind was a mess of Tamlin’s words, I was so angry I could hardly think beyond it. At the end of the hall there was a door and even from where I was I could see the doorknob turning. A head of red hair popped through the door and Lucien stumbled to close it.

I kept my head down trying to avoid him but it was no use. The second he passed me his hands were on me shoving me into the nearest wall.

“Hello my flower,” he slurred.

“You’re drunk Lucien,” I pointed out, jerking my head away.

“Yes I suppose I am, the emissary for the summer court knows how to celebrate. We went to a tavern after completing the job on the border to indulge in some women and maybe a few drinks,” he chuckled.

“Yeah a few hundred drinks you fucking idiot,” I gripe trying to get out of his grasp but his hands only pin my wrists tighter.

“It was fun, but being around all those women made me long for my little flower,” he smiled drunkenly before kissing my neck.

For months now he’s been doing this, stealing touches whenever he could, and kissing my neck like this when he was feeling really bold, or in this case, drunk. He never took it further than that though. Never kissing, never fully fucking me, and I think it’s because he knew that it would be where Tamilin drew the line. But tonight he was drunk, in a way I had never seen him before, and I wasn’t sure if the line that had held for so many months would be held now.

“Get the fuck off me Lucien,” I growl trying to push him off again.

He completely ignores me, “You know my dear I’ve let my hands wander every expanse of this magnificent body, but I have yet to taste you,” he says lowly. “I think I’m going to change that.”

I don’t even get a chance to try and fight before his lips are on mine. He tastes like shitty whiskey and he smells like cheap perfume. It’s vile and it has me sick to my stomach. I find my opening to rip my lips off him and take it.

“Lucien what the fuck!” I scream in his face. His eyes just go down to my heaving chest, where my breasts are pushed up high due to my corset.

“And these,” he drawls before placing open mouth kisses on the peaks of my breasts. His hand lets go of my wrist and flies to my waist to pull me closer to him and I take the change of position as an opportunity to knee him between his legs.

His knees hit the ground and I run down the hall towards my room. I slam and lock the door as fast as possible, barricading myself in with a chair. I pace back and forth trying to dispel the pent up adrenaline that’s inside of me but in the end I sink to my knees and start to cry.

What happened?

That calming voice cleaves its way through my mind and it feels like a huge weight off my chest has been lifted.

“It was Lucien he tried to…” I let my voice trail off not even wanting to finish the sentence. I know the High Lord of Night is at the complete other end of Prythian but I swear I feel the ground beneath me tremble.

Did he? He asks, like he would winnow here right now and make due on his promise of ripping out his good eye.

“No, I fought him off,” I assure him.

Are you safe?

“As safe as I can be, I barricaded the door,” I say, as my heart rate calms down.

You shouldn’t have to live in a place where you have to barricade yourself in your room.

“Well I do so I’m handling it the best I can,” I gripe at him. I would gladly change the situation if I could but I can’t. There's a silence and I can feel him ruminating over my words as I crawl into bed.

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like that.

“It’s okay I understood what you meant,” I say pulling the covers up to my chin like they might protect me.

And I’m sorry for what I said about Tamlin. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, he’s your brother, of course you’re going to defend him.

“It’s okay, maybe everything you said about Tamlin wasn’t entirely false,” I confess remembering the conversation that had me fleeing the dining room in the first place.

What happened?

A moment passes and I think about telling him. But saying it almost makes it real and I choose not to, “I’d rather not talk about it now. Too much has happened tonight,” I say

Alright we won’t then. I sense disappointment in his voice but I am happy that he respects my wishes.

“Rhys?”I ask, and there’s a hesitation there.

Yes darling? He purrs and I can hear him practically swooning at the fact that I said his name.

“I don’t wanna be alone, will you stay up with me?” I confess feeling like I’m baring my soul.

Of course I will darling, all night if you want me to.

Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88

(I've never made a taglist so hopefully this works)

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar

310 notes · View notes

penkura · 1 month

Note

hey! how are you?

hope you're doing well :)

I wanted to ask, If you could pretty please write a one shot about Sanji and reader, I'm watching the Zou arc now, and I really want to know how it would be If reader was with him in the moment he finds out about the marriage and leaves the note, she would cry and beg him to stay or something, you can decide If they were already in a relantionship or not.

Anyway feel free to ignore it if you don't want, and take care of yourself <3

PS: sorry If something got wrong, english it's not my first language.

Omg the Zou arc, pain with Sanji geez. I'm so happy for this request tho, I've not written this scenario before! I had an idea for their relationship as soon as I read your message too, so I hope this is what you were looking for! I kept it open for a part two if you'd like later on as well! I hope you enjoy it!

You and Sanji had been close ever since Luffy recruited you shortly after him. Something about the blond had just drawn you in and he was glad to entertain you and spend his free time with you. Even when you’d sit and watch him cook in total silence, Sanji welcomed it, he was happy to have company and someone to listen when he started talking out loud about what steps were next. You learned his most common dishes so well that you were able to rattle off the directions yourself, causing Sanji to become smitten with you quickly.

You’d fallen in the same way, after spending time with and getting to know Sanji. Despite his perverted tendencies at times, you found yourself drawn to and falling completely head over heels for your crew’s chef. He kept somethings about his life before meeting Zeff from you, the most you knew was that he was one of five children and from the North Blue, you didn’t dare pry too much farther. You didn’t want to push him away and ruin the friendship you’d built with him, especially once you realized your feeling for Sanji were more than just friendly.

Not like you’ll ever tell him, if you have it your way. You weren’t going to make things difficult for not only you and Sanji but your whole crew too. You’ve become content to just admire and pine after him, no matter how many times Nami tells you to just say something to him about your feelings, you refuse to do so. You won’t make things awkward, not when everyone is focused on their goals and now looking towards taking down an Emperor of the Sea in Kaido.

“The main event is a wedding,” Bege takes out an invitation and opens it for Sanji to see, “Between the third son of the Vinsmoke family and the 35th daughter of the Charlotte family, Pudding.”

You were content until this new development. A tea party invitation and requirement from Big Mom, a wedding to a girl he’s never met, the last name he’s never once told you about. You just believed he didn’t have one, like Nami or Usopp, it didn’t matter to you if he did or didn’t. He’s Sanji, he’s not this Vinsmoke Sanji. Your mind is reeling as he flat out refuses the invitation, while your crewmates shout their disbelief at this situation, you can’t even seem to join them. Everything moves so fast, the next thing you know, one of Bege’s crew members has whispered something to Sanji that’s got him going rigid, being getting a pen and piece of paper to write something down. You don’t even notice fully that he’s taken and ripped a piece off it, ignoring the looks he gets from the others around, wondering what he’s doing.

While Sanji slips the note he’s written to Nami, you try so hard to finally speak but the words won’t come out. He can’t leave, he just can’t! He’s so important to your crew, to Luffy, to you, Sanji can’t just go off and marry some random girl he’s never met! It’s not fair, even though you’ve never made your feelings known to him, you have no claim on Sanji. You’re able to get back into focus as he speaks to you all again when he hugs you.

“Please know, I never meant to keep anything from any of you.” He grips your shoulder just a bit tighter than he has before, and that’s what finally gets you to speak.

“Sanji, wait! You…you can’t go! I…I lo—”

He stops you with a smile and placing his hand on your head, nodding just a bit. “I know…but don’t worry, I’ll come back…and then we can talk, okay?”

You don’t believe him, even as he forces the four of you out of Bege’s castle, giving everyone a smile and promising to be back later. He’s never lied to you before, why shouldn’t you believe him? You have every intention of running after Bege as he goes to escape, but Nami reminds you that it’ll be pretty hard to do anything when you’re still chained up like the rest of them. Even after the Minks free you, you want to go after them, but she stops you again, with a hug that finally makes you start to cry over not being able to stop him.

At least, until you feel the scratch of paper on your shoulder and realize that’s what he was doing, when Sanji gripped your shoulder tighter. He was slipping you a note separate from everyone, now you can take it and see what he was telling you that he kept from everyone else. You don’t read it until you’re back to the room you and Nami are sharing thanks to the Minks, and all it does is make your heart ache and feel like you should’ve done more, because now you truly don’t believe he’s coming back.

No matter what happens next, I love you. I’ll tell you in person when I come back.

You’re going to help Luffy get him back, your mind and heart are decided.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #reader insert #fem!reader

184 notes · View notes

eliashirsch · 1 month

Text

God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (1/3)

As of 15th May 2024, these are some of the BEST stories I have read in the fandom. Of course, this is completely subjective and there are many personal factors as to why I crowned them God Tier.

Mainly:

Reading it for the first time: ‘Oh, this is really good, I’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of my life’

When compiling the list: ‘Oh my god, this fic, man, this fic!!’

There are many other fics that match the first criteria, but for it to be on this list, I needed to have these two reactions.

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!! They’re there for a reason. PLEASE make sure you understand where the story is going to be before reading!!

Without further ado, I present to you, my roman empires:)

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)

Best of the Best Authors

Authors that I trust with my life, whose work are ALL incredibly well written.

COMPACFLT @compacflt

They’re the first person to pop in my head when I was thinking about making this list. No amount of time and words will be enough for me to describe how good their work is. Seriously. It’s on a level I’ve never seen before for fanfiction. The world building, the characterization, the prose, everything. COMPACFLT has a way of understanding these characters, it makes so much sense and fits so well with canon. I’m just at a loss for words. Genuinely the reason I converted to Icemav supremacy.

When We Get Around to Talking About It

Goose has been dead for a week and a half when Iceman loses his first wingman in a dogfight with six Soviet MiGs over the Sea of Okhotsk. Goose has been dead for thirty years when Iceman loses his second wingman to a surface-to-air missile on the tail-end of a mission he's responsible for: he's sent his family on a suicide mission to destroy a uranium enrichment facility in Russia's Far East. This is the story of those thirty years in the middle. (Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.)

This was the first story I’ve read from them. And it’s so… I don’t have words. It’s told from Ice’s perspective, filling the gaps between TG and TG:M with added Icemav and Hangster. In my mind this is canon:D

Debriefing (& Other Stories)

"We can start here, I guess. If we're talking about us," Pete says. "Nineteen-eighty-six. The first thing I thought, when I saw you in that O-club, was: Iceman is off-limits. Capital O, capital L." Despite himself, despite the fear, Tom laughs a little. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?" "Well, first off, we were competition. And yeah, you were attractive, but then you opened your mouth and I swear. You were just an asshole. Goose is trying to introduce you to me and here I am thinking about how much of an asshole you are. Shut up about Cougar, asshole." "It was supposed to be a friendly competition!" "Yeah, right. So that's what I was thinking: he's attractive, clearly doesn't know how to talk to other men, might be into the proposition if I framed it the right way. But he's an asshole, so this competition is just gonna be friendly." Pete pauses. Then he says, "Ice, you wanna get married?" And that's how they start talking about it. (Or: they finally get around to talking about it. Plus a couple extra stories for good luck.)

Sigh and send COMPACFLT a loving look. This Maverick's POV adds so much to the story without being repetitive. COMPACFLT deliberately tells their story like puzzle pieces, and they complete each other—just like Icemav, if you will.

The Slider oneshot is truly something else. I was so eager for the upload and kept an eye on their account for updates religiously. To flesh out a character that barely has any source material is an incredible skill to have. And the Bradley oneshot… Omg… My favorite characterization of Bradley, period.

Tremors & Aftershocks

They both come back to their senses and stop openly crying again eventually. The stitches fall out of the thirty-year-old wounds and the scars fade back to skin-color. Life stops being so painfully raw after a couple weeks back home. You get used to miracles the way you get used to anything else. One day at a time. [Or: 40 years of extras, from 1982-2022. Some true love, some heartbreak, some miracles.]

To me, this one has a different feeling from the other two. More focused on Ice and Mav’s relationship as opposed to the whole plotline. It’s tender and bittersweet and feels like being hugged for the first time and then told that you wouldn’t get another hug in thirty years time.

What impresses me most is that, if you go to COMPACFLT’s Tumblr account, you’ll see the thought they’ve put for these stories are INSANE. They’re so educated on the military and its history and it adds so much to these characters. I’m not American and all my writing for Top Gun will always stem from google searches and other fics. If you’re a nerd like me and like to read about other’s analysis about topics they know nothing about, I suggest you go to their account and have fun.

COMPACFLT, you have captured my soul with your writing. Thank you for your service and I wish you well in life.

AortaArgent @aortaargent

If you’re looking for an author who can write smut like nothing else, go to their profile. Better yet, click here, and scroll down to the threads they made about girl!Mav and get horny real quick. It’s a shortcut to heaven really. (And yes, I’m still upset that they seem to have left the fandom, but I still hold the stories they’ve left behind close to my heart:)) My favorites:

like a shotgun (needs an outcome)

“Ice gave me a handjob when we did this,” he argues. “Oh, that’s what gets you moving? Seeing who comes first?” With that, Slider takes hold of him, wrapping his hand around and keeping his fist steady. “Go on, baby girl. Fuck it like a good little -” He squeezes Slider’s balls a little harder than he’d imagine is necessarily pleasant. For Slider. It's definitely nice for him. “Fuck,” Kerner chokes out, weakly. Ice sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “I told you he bites.” In which there are multiple realisations, improbable numbers of pilots hanging out in a shared shower, volleyball games and verbal tennis. Yes, it's compulsory to wear your dogtags in the shower - never know when you could need identification. (Only kidding, it's for added fuckability.)

It’s so hot... but believable at the same time. BDSM is just one of those things where you read about it and can tell if the author has experience or is just extremely well-informed.

Eye to Eye

“Maybe it’s not just us looking to get a piece of you,” Wolf says. He’s right by Maverick’s head, and a shiver rolls down his shoulders in a sweeping tide at the soft click of each word against his ear. “Maybe we offered. You’re so pretty, Mav. It’s not a hard sell.” His hands twitch with the effort of not reaching up to tear off the blindfold and find out if they’re telling the truth or just winding him up. It’s possible. Occupied, blindfolded, he might not have noticed the door opening. More guys could have been in the showers. Two hands circle his ankles, firm over his boots, and hold him steady. Someone else has his left hand, kneading the tendons down the back of it. Anyone and anything is plausible. A continuation. Finally.

HOT DAMN. That’s all.

AortaArgent portrayed Ice and Mav’s relationship as absolute and secure while having fun with Mav’s dynamic with the other guys. All of their works are mind-boggling and simply amazing!

thecarlysutra @icemankazansky

Need I say more? Carly’s one of the most prominent members of the Top Gun fandom. Actually, I trust any member of the Top Gun Old Guard. With Carly, there’s something about their writing that makes me think of discovering an old box of CDs you used to watch relentlessly, dusty and worn, but the nostalgia rushes back and it’s achingly familiar. You can tell they’ve been writing for Top Gun for so long the characters kind of became their own. And when you click on any fic they wrote, you can fall and trust they’ll catch you. My favorites:

and i promise, you're the locksmith

“Is something going on in your neighborhood?” Maverick asked. “Like … a pest problem or something?” “You could say that,” Ice said. “Like … a coyote or something?” “Suitors,” Ice said. Maverick's attempts to woo Iceman are somewhat complicated by the promise Ice has made: Anyone who wants to marry him must catch his cat, which wears the key to his house around its neck on a silver chain. Inspired by the Tumblr legend.

This one’s so cute!!! Ugh, I’m never going to get tired of reading Icemav fall in love over and over again.

Dreams of Impact

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

Sigh for the second time and send hearts Carly’s way. Basically, Mav gets transported to another universe and weird things happen. I love fics that dabble with the universe, the what-ifs, the what could’ve been. Do you ever have that moment when you make a decision, look back and wonder how life would be if you chose differently? Click on the link and read 🫵

aelibia @topgunreacts

God. aelibia’s just too good. It’s like banger after banger after banger. If you’re looking for an author whose work is a guaranteed good read, click the link and it’ll show you magic. They have Icemav ranging from tender and soft to angsty, portraying all different sorts of love and a way of writing explicit sex that I’ve never found anywhere else.

I can’t even pick which one’s my favorite because they’re all my favorite. Especially the series they wrote, oh my god. I love them all. However, one that I reread religiously and being giddy over is this:

Wine Dark Sea

Raised by a selkie mother bound to a human man, Ice returns to the human world as a teenager with a singular purpose: to find the source of human strength, and claim it for himself. But after a careless mistake binds him to another human man, Ice is forced to reconsider his most fundamental beliefs: What is the meaning of strength? And what is the cost of freedom?

It’s so silly at times and heartbreaking most of the time. I especially love the later chapters where the evil is defeated and Ice is just being a silly seal while Mav’s being the supportive partner that he is. This fic is the SOLE REASON that my favorite animal is a seal. Thank you for opening my eyes to something that has been so obvious from the start, your majesty aelibia.

I also humbly present these seal drawings because the image of Ice galumphing around a Navy base, complete with wet smacks and people shrieking in horror makes me laugh everyday. That, and the scene where Mav is surrounded by four fat harbor seal pups and reading a story to them. Eleven out of ten.

This one’s my favorite:}

183 notes · View notes

dellalalakang · 8 months

Text

triple n: RIP kang della

masterlist | main masterlist

— lhs, pjs, sjy, psh —

well.......

contains: fivesome. really rough (choking, slapping, etc.), DELLA HAS AN IUD!!, della getting absolutely manhandled, her hands gets restrained for a bit, BUT THEN THERE IS A BIT OF DOM!DELLA ACTION, double penetration (as in anal), tiiiiiny bit of breeding kink, kitten as a nickname kink, daddy kink (sorry guys lol ik i said i wouldn't but i can't help it), i also said that they're never goofy during sex but we have the 02z in one session y'all— it's bound to get a little silly, LONGEST FIC I'VE WRITTEN (7.3k WORDS), longest + most detailed + most insane smut i've ever written omg i dont think i will EVER top this

happy belated anniversary my darlings 🤍 happy two years to della and her men (and alice) ✨

AND HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO ENHA'S (5/8) LOSS IN NNN! this chapter takes place on midnight 2022/11/11 (so i kinda thought that was today bcs dumbo self messed up the dates so i'm one day late but it's all good)

hi guys! i missed you! i will try to reply to asks soon! i'm so sorry for disappearing again, life has been rough and moving too fast 😭 DID NOT PROOFREAD BECAUSE I AM EMBARRASSED

Kang Della is going to die tonight.

While not literally, she was definitely going to be reborn as a new woman.

"Lala, stop praying. You're not actually gonna die," Sunoo said, more interested in his phone than his overreacting girlfriend. "You're gonna have so much fun, and we have the day off tomorrow. It'll be great."

"Sunoo shut up and help me pray," Della herself was already dressed, cleaned up and ready to head out.

But certainly not ready to meet the hyuppas.

"Why are we even praying when you're going to be doing something so sinful?"

There were three possible outcomes from tonight; One, the hyuppas being so annoyed that they prefer to ignore her for a bit. Though that is just her anxiety talking.

Two, they would take turns with her for four days straight. Which also means that she would have a limp and some back pain for a week or so.

Or three, they would all have their way with her, at the same time.

And the last option seems to be the most likely.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Oh, hi! Oppa! Really funny seeing you here but Sunghoon-oppa asked for beer, so here—" Jake immediately pulled Della into his room before she could escape from what was coming.

"You're in massive trouble, young lady," the girl would've laughed if the situation wasn't as serious. Who actually says that sentence in real life? Sim Jaeyun, apparently.

"Oh, wow! All the hyuppas are here!" Della laughed nervously. "Seems like you guys are preparing to have a celebration together! Wouldn't want boring 'ole Della making things all boring!"

The stern look on all four men made Della withdraw into herself. She avoided eye contact by playing with her nails, mentally preparing herself for the scolding.

"Kang Della, sit down," Heeseung ordered, gesturing the couch with his eyebrows.

"Ah.. I really need to my room though, Yunji-unnie's waiting for me," Della hopes that she could somehow avoid the earful, though it is looking very improbable. "So I'm just here to hand over the beer and—" she gasped when Jay slowly took her hands and held them behind her back like a criminal.

"Do you know how hard it was to wait for you?" he said in a low tone. "The only reason why we did this stupid challenge was because of you."

Jay's deep voice caused Della's skin to erupt in goosebumps. She bit her lip as her heart started pumping faster. She tried to look into his eyes but quickly adverted her gaze when she saw how handsome he looked with his expression. She could feel herself getting wet again.

"The fucking audacity you had to lose to someone who wasn't even a part of this bullshit of a challenge," Sunghoon walked over and held her face with both hands. He noticed a familiar scent within the proximity. "You've been fucking drinking too. You did a lot with Sunoo, huh?"

She had forgotten about the alcohol in her system, now understanding why her brain seems so hazy. She barely drank anything, but she is a major lightweight. The drink Sunoo gave her, mixed with the lack of sexual attention (and undeniably, Sunoo's seduction) must be why she lost the game so easily.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't plan it or anything. Honest!" she replied with puppy eyes. While the look stirred something inside Sunghoon, it certainly wasn't sympathy.

"Even if you didn't plan it, you still did it, didn't you?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. "You can't really take it back now, can you?" he brushed her bangs back but kept his hold firm. "Even if it was silly little foreplay."

Everything Sunghoon did just made her core uncomfortably wet. She was embarrassed to clutch her legs tighter but her mind was just occupied with how stunning he looked and how hot his words were.

"No," Della whined, shamelessly staring at his lips. "I'm sorry, oppas."

"Do you know what's gonna happen now?" Sunghoon asked, staring at her lips as well.

"Am I getting punished?" Della bit her lip at the thought.

"You're gonna deal with us four, yeah? We've been stupidly waiting for over a week," Sunghoon caressed her cheeks before forcefully making her look at the two boys on the bed. "Look at them. We all deserve to be relieved from this challenge, hm?" he whispered in her ear.

"Nghh," Della whined at the sight of Jake and Heeseung. They were sitting on the joint bed with a can of beer in their hands. They were intently staring at the three of them, anticipating their next moves and patiently waiting for their turn. They knew that hard-dom Sunghoon would be the best at disciplining Della in bed, while romantic Jay would really show her just how serious they are.

"Do you think you can do that?" Sunghoon whispered again, causing Della to gulp and nod her head. "Use your words."

"I'm gonna deal with all four of you," she said timidly. She has never handled more than two people before, and now she's jumping straight to four.

But she is excited. Extremely excited.

"Good girl," Jay kept his hold with one hand, using the other to stroke her hair. "Your safe word today is red and yellow, okay? Regardless of Korean or English."

"Okay, oppa," Della closed her eyes at the gentle kiss Jay left on her hair. Suddenly all the nerves left and she's just left with pure anticipation.

"Good girl," although the words were identical to Jay's, Sunghoon's praise sounded rougher, more possessive. "Now come here."

Sunghoon connected his lips to hers hungrily while his hands moved to grope her bare breasts under her pyjama top.

Jay let out a small smirk, his hands busily tying her wrists with the neck tie he prepared. His recently free hands then moved to unbutton her top, helping Sunghoon get easier access.

"You're not wearing a fucking bra. Sunoo must've enjoyed these babies, huh?" Jay said against her neck as his hands replaced Sunghoon's. The latter's opted to move down and roam his hands on Della's hourglass figure.

"Did he? Answer Jay," Sunghoon mumbled on her lips before shifting his kisses to her neck.

"No, he didn't," Della whimpered at the stimulation. Her legs were now almost crossed at how eager she is for some sort of sexual activity.

"Aish, that kid," Jay cursed, pulling away from Della to grab himself a beer. "Won 3N but didn't even fully enjoy it," he then pat Heeseung's shoulder and sat down beside Jake. "Tag. You're it."

Heeseung smirked, taking a big swig of his drink before making his way to Dehoon. With some liquid courage, he knew that they would all have a long, wild night ahead of them. They all definitely need a few cans because they desperately need this.

"You could've tagged me, y'know?" Jake pointed at his roommate.

"Shut up," Jay sipped his drink. "Just go over and join them– who's stopping you?"

"Nah, I'm actually enjoying the view," the younger laid back and rested his upper body weight on his forearm. The two watched as Sunghoon pulled away as soon as he noticed Heeseung.

"I told you to sit down, didn't I?" Heeseung practically mumbled, using his free hand to push her down onto the couch. "Why didn't you listen to me but obeyed Sunghoon and Jongseong?"

Della's mouth watered at the angle. If her instincts were correct, she was gonna suck someone off, most probably Heeseung.

And she absolutely loves giving head.

Heeseung especially tends to let out these adorable sounds that are music to her ears. She knows that he will try to hold them back since they're not alone, but she is determined to have this gorgeous man let loose of his (almost) equally gorgeous noises.

"I'm sorry, oppa," the lower angle made Della's puppy eyes look even more cute. "I was just nervous."

"You know what those eyes do to me," Heeseung ran a thumb over her lip. "Should we forgive her, Sunghoon?" he sucked in a breath when she took his thumb into her mouth to suck gently.

"We'll see about that," a loud zipper sound filled the room as Sunghoon aggressively undid his pants. "Open up," and his cock was in front of Della's face in no time.

She did not need to be told twice. Her eyes instantly closed as her tongue swirled around the tip. She played around with it for a few seconds before pushing it all the way to the back of her throat.

"Fuckkk, I missed this," Sunghoon threw his head back. "So fucking good," he bit his lip harshly.

Upon the sight, Heeseung hurriedly lowered his sweatpants with one hand, but struggled to get his hard-on out from the tightness of his boxers. He eventually succeeded once Sunghoon helped by taking the beer out of his hands.

"Pay attention to hyung too," Sunghoon said and took a large gulp of the liquid.

Della wasted no time in having Heeseung inside her mouth with her tongue swirling around the girth. She didn't care as her hair got everywhere.

"Thereee you go," Heeseung grunted, pushing the hair behind her shoulders and brushed her bangs back . "Ah fuck!" he bit his lip to try and contain his sounds.

"Ya– I meant divide your attention, not completely move on to him," Della gasped as Sunghoon pulled her hair so she could come back to him. "Back and forth, baby, you can do it."

It is definitely difficult. Della has never given head with her hands tied before, let alone with two dicks.

But if the boys know anything about their baby, they'll know that she is not a quitter; she will persist until she's absolutely certain she can't.

She bobbed her head two times on Sunghoon before switching back to Heeseung to repeat her movements, and doing the same to Sunghoon again. The perspective was so hot that Sunghoon's breath turned heavy and Heeseung's moans were audible again.

Jay and Jake, on the other hand, were getting a bit impatient because they could barely see anything. Sunghoon could almost sense it, and as he turned his head to look at his two best friends, he found Jake fiddling with his can while Jay tapped his hand in wait.

"Hyung, let's move to the bed," Sunghoon breathed out, pulling Della away from him and up from the sofa. Della whined at the loss but let herself be moved around like a doll. "Be fucking patient. You were willing to wait for a month, you can definitely handle a few seconds," Sunghoon slapped her lightly.

DellaTheMasochist only gave him an annoyed look with a bratty pout, making him slap her once more.

"Oh you're gonna be a little brat, huh? I'll deal with you fucking later," he then carefully pushed her to Jay's arms, causing Della to smile in adoration. No matter how rough sex is with Sunghoon, he's still a huge softy.

"Well hello there," Jay caught her with one hand. "Were you being a bit bratty?" he asked while fixing her hair gently.

"No, never," Della shook her head innocently. Sunghoon grinned as he opened himself a can, sitting on the bed beside Heeseung.

Her absolute brattiness only comes out to Sunghoon. She's an angel with Jay, putty with Jake, and a dominant with Heeseung.

"Of course not, you're our princess," Jay breathed down her neck and captured a nipple in his mouth. He blindly handed Jake his drink so he could use both hands to hug her waist. He spent a few minutes slowly enjoying her boobs, leaving hickeys all around the area.

The three knew that Jay liked his intimacy, so they didn't interrupt.

He eventually laid her between himself and Jake, opting to just stroke her hair for now. Della was settling into a more comfortable position when Jay noticed that Jake's hands were now free from the cans he was holding.

He gestured for the Aussie to begin, eliciting a grin from Jake before hovering above Della.

"Hi, baby," Jake whispered. His attractive face and accent left a small blush to her cheeks. "I missed you," he connected their lips together in a steamy kiss.

The thing with Dake is that they don't always have a clear dominant in the bedroom. Most times it's Jake while others it's Della. What's crystal is that they are really passionate together. Practically straight out of an erotic movie.

"I'm still annoyed about Triple N but I miss you too much to fucking care right now," he ran his hands down from her sides, eventually tugging her shorts and panties down as far as he could. "Just wanna devour you."

He then proceeded to make his way down until he was off the bed with his face in between her legs. He completely got rid of her lower garments and took a deep breath, biting his lip before diving into her heat. One of his favourite things to do with her, and something that she desperately needed.

"Ah fuck!" Della threw her head back, pressing her thighs against his head. "Ahhh Jakey!" she whined.

"Sensitive babyy," Jay cooed and held her face with his hand. "You almost gave this up for a month, you know?" he left small kisses all over her face.

"November's my birthday month, she ain't gonna give this up for the whole thirty," Jake pulled back slightly to comment. With his accent and slight mumbling, Jay could barely understand what he was saying. Della, however, understood perfectly.

"I told you that I would give you an exception, right?" Della's answer just connected the dots for Jay. Big mistake.

"You promised him an exception?" Jay halted his caresses to seriously ask. But Jake had resumed his mission, and Della is far too distracted to answer. "Fucking answer me– you gave him an exception?" he tightened his grip on her face.

"Y-yeah, for his birthday," Jay let out a scoff at her answer and humourlessly chuckled.

"I was gonna go easy on you and let these guys do their own thing," his voice turned rough, something he didn't think he would do tonight. "But you were gonna give Jake an exemption and that– pay attention," he slapped her lightly when she moaned to his face.

"Sorry, oppa," Della whined, finding it difficult to concentrate when Jake's mouth was pleasuring her so well.

"It pisses me off," Jay whispered roughly. "Instead of just calling the challenge off, you were gonna make the three of us wait 'til the end," he smirked at how hard she was struggling to contain her sounds of pleasure. He let go of her roughly to sit up."Sorry man, I gotta take it from here," he pat Jake's shoulder.

"Mmkay," Della moaned loudly when Jake gave out one last suck to her clit. "I call dibs on cleaning her off though," he smiled widely while licking his wet lips.

"Deal," Jay immediately flipped Della over onto her stomach. "Tsk tsk tsk, Lala..." he swiftly took his shorts and boxers off in one go. "Stay down," he firmly instructed as he removed her restrains.

The three boys couldn't stop the grin when they watched Jay unleash his beast. The Jay they've seen before was nowhere near as aggressive.

"Have fun, bro," Sunghoon hollered. "Have fun, princess," he toasted his beer at Della when she made eye contact.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" Jay whispered in her ear. He noticed the goosebumps that rose on her back as he was lifting her hips and parting her legs. "Hold on tight," he warned, handing her a pillow.

He bit the bottom of his sleeveless shirt just so he could get a clearer look of his shaft rubbing against her folds.

"Aghh," both Della and Jay groaned when his full length entered her. "Fuckk!" after ten days, he knew he had to let Della adjust a little. Yet he also knew that she didn't need long based on how wet she is and how Sunoo had prepped her.

So not long after, he pulled back and thrusted into her. Hard.

"Ngghhh!" Della squeezed her eyes shut while tightly hugging the pillow. "Oppaaa!" she moaned loudly.

"God! I fucking missed this!" Jay grumbled out. The cloth was no longer in his mouth and he had his head thrown back. "Fuck!"

He kept his hands on her hips as he pounded into her. Slow, but powerful thrusts.

"Ahhh! Oppaaaa!" Della continued to moan loudly. "Oh my God!" she realised how noisy she was being, so she began to muffle her sounds into the pillow.

"Oh no you don't," Jay grunted. Instead of taking the pillow away from her, he decided to flip her onto her back. Essentially switching to the missionary position. "Oh hi there, sweetie," he smirked at her, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. "Hold on," he forcefully placed her hands on his shoulders before resuming his thrusts.

"Shit!" Della gasped, struggling to maintain eye contact with Jay as he continued to fuck her in the same manner. "Jay-oppaaa!" she practically screamed. Her nails starting holding on for dear life, scratching the skin of his biceps and her mouth was stuck open with nonstop moans.

The three other boys were turned on as hell.

Jake kept adjusting the bulge in his pants while Sunghoon and Heeseung had to constantly shift in their seats.

Waiting was especially hard for Heeseung as he barely got to touch Della in ten days. So he downed two cans and working on his third in no time, making him slightly tipsy and extremely impatient.

And the sight of her mouth opening just reminded him of something.

"That's it," he crawled across to Jella's side of the bed. "Sunghoon said we were moving to the bed, so you're not done sucking me off," he sat on his knees beside Della's. "Sorry, Jongseong-ah," he breathed out and helped guide Della's mouth to his length.

"By all means, hyung," Jay pulled away and halted his movement to let Della find a comfortable position. "You better do your best. We know you can do it, baby," he whispered to Della, taking off his shirt as he waited.

"Shittt!" Heeseung moaned practically straight after Della's mouth wrapped around him. "There you go, baby– just like that," he assisted by thrusting so that all she had to do was just suck around him and pump what she can't.

"I'll start moving again," Jay began thrusting as soon as he alerted Heela. "Aghh," he grunted, furrowing his eyebrows together. The view of Della sucking someone off in front of him just made him want to fuck her even harder.

He needs to hear her moans even if they were muffled.

"Ahh! Lala!" Heeseung whined when Della kept moaning around him. "Just like that! Sooo good! Nghh!"

Since his mind was foggy from the alcohol, he didn't even bother to hold back on his moans. Even when they start to get a little too subby.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon and Jake wanted to join in so badly, but fear that they would overwhelm their baby. Though they can't just sit there and do nothing.

So they decided to devise a plan for when their turn comes.

"Have you... ever done anal?" Sunghoon awkwardly asked Jake after covering his dick with a pillow. "Like do it from the butt?"

"Me or Della?" Jake's question made the ice prince slap his arm.

"Della, of course," Sunghoon scolded.

"Ack! No– I just gotta make sure I understood what you meant," Jake explained. "No, we haven't."

"I have and I brought condoms and lube," Sunghoon pointed at his luggage. "So here's the thing... Della has been quite curious to try like.. two people.. like.." Sunghoon tried to find the words to explain it in a way that Jake would understand, knowing that the guy mostly knows English sexual terms.

"Like at the same time? Double?" Jake asked while bringing his hands up for gesture.

"Uh, double," Sunghoon nodded, instantly feeling awkward again. "Do you... wanna try it with me? It's her first time and maybe you can do the... back because you've never tried it before."

Jake was quick to make up his mind, all thanks to the two beers he had downed.

"Let's do it," he raised his hand to dap Sunghoon up. "Jellahoon, am I right?"

"Of course," Sunghoon grinned.

"Fuck! I can't cum already!" Heeseung grit his teeth and slowed down his hips. "Lalaaa," he whined.

It was then when Della finally pulled away from the blowjob. She looked into his eyes whilst her hand kept pumping his shaft.

"Heeseung, babyy. What did I tell you about holding back?" she forced herself to restrain her moans just so she could remind him who's in charge.

Fortunately, Jay, who was finding the exchange amusing (also wanting Della all to himself during his orgasm), had slowed down his thrusts to help her focus.

"To never do that because only bad boys hold back," Heeseung's rational thoughts went straight out the window. He was fully going to show his dongsaengs that Lee Heeseung is a sub. A major one. "But I'm not even inside you yet!"

"Come here, baby," Della got up from her position. "I'll be back," she placed a quick kiss on Jay's lips.

"Go ahead," Jay was so intrigued at his hyung and girlfriend's new side that he didn't care about his delayed orgasm— as long as he gets it straight after Heeseung reaches his.

"Poor babyy," Della cooed at Heeseung, brushing his hair back. "Why don't you sit comfortably and let Lala do the work?"

The 02z watched in amazement as they discover how their hyung is actually like in bed. They watched him obey Della's instructions like clockwork, as if he's done this a million times.

He rested his back against the pillows with his legs ajar. His large bambi eyes were stuck on Della the whole time, looking absolutely lovestruck.

"Take off your shirt," Della pointed lazily, getting on top of his lap. "You're a good boy, right?" she connected their foreheads together and aligned him to her entrance.

All Heeseung could do was nod enthusiastically.

"Then don't hold back," Della whispered before sliding down on his length.

"Ahh!" both Heeseung and Della let out high-pitched moans. As Della bounced up and down, Heeseung's hands automatically went to wrap around her waist.

"Sh-shit!" Heeseung hugged her tighter while squeezing his eyes shut. Because he was already close earlier, it took no time for him to reach that point again. "Lalaaa!"

"Feel so good, Heeseung– ahhh!" when it comes to Heeseung, Della (most of the time) tries to compose herself. She's taking care of him after all.

"Shit– is that what it looks like when Della rides you?" Sunghoon asked under his breath. "That's fucking hot."

His hand then tried to secretly stimulate himself, making sure that neither Jake or Jay could notice. Jay, on the other hand, was openly pumping himself, not caring that his best friends could be looking.

"Damn, you're pretty big, bro," Jake suddenly blurted out at Jay. "Nice one."

"Thanks, I guess," Jay chuckled and kept moving his hand, not feeling awkward in the slightest.

"Why were you looking at his dick?" Sunghoon snickered, but that brought Jake's attention to him and that's when the latter noticed his sneaky hand.

"Why are you secretly jacking off? Just do it like Jay, no balls!" Jake slapped his calf. "We're literally in the middle of a fivesun—"

"Fivesome," Jay corrected him.

"Fivesome!"

"Ew, no! I feel so exposed! Like I'll be jerking off in front of you!" Sunghoon completely removed his hand from his dick. "And it's easy for you to say! You're still fully clothed!"

"It's not like we've never seen you naked bef–"

"02z, if you're not gonna suck each other off then shut the fuck up," Della interrupted their bickering while making eye contact. "Your hyung's trying to cum in peace."

"Yes ma'am," "Sorry," "Sorry," they all apologised quietly, hoping that no one notices their erection hardening even more. They hate admitting their thirst for Della's dominance.

Or to be accurate; They love her dominance, yet hate admitting their desire to be like Heeseung.

But it's not like the 02z have never been docile to DommeDella.

"Sunghoon, don't be fucking weird or I'll repeat last month's occurrences," Della's threat immediately made Sunghoon's skin erupt in goosebumps. He just hopes that she won't elaborate and reveal to his friends what exactly happened.

Thankfully, she didn't.

"Are you okay, baby?" Della went back and cooed to Heeseung, keeping her pace steady as she cradled his head.

"I'm gonna cuuuum," he sobbed. "Fuck! Lalaaa!"

"There you go. Don't hold back, Heeseung baby," Della mustered up all the energy she had to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhh! Lalaaa!" Heeseung used his tight hold to assist her bounces before ultimately letting out a loud gasp as he released spurts and spurts of warm cum. "Oh my God, babyy," he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

"Good boyy," Della halted her thrusts, caressing his hair lovingly. "Filling me up soo good," she placed tiny kisses on his head. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Lala," Heeseung breathed out. "Thank you," he pulled himself away to connect their lips.

They were stuck in a slow make-out session for a while before Jay grew impatient and pulled Della away from the older.

"You didn't forget about me, did you?" Jay grumbled in her ear. "I gave you time to fuck hyung but now you forgot about us?" he lifted her up like she weighed nothing and placed her front facing down.

"You're being rude, Jay. Your hyung needed to—" Della cut herself off with a gasp when Jay landed a firm spank on her ass.

"You're not in control no more," he said in a low voice, lifting her waist up slightly. "Where are your manners?"

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered when he spread her pussy lips. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly pouring out of her. As always, he came a lot.

"Shitt– hyung," Jay called for Heeseung to see. The latter had pretty much sobered up from earlier and is back to his usual self.

And at least for now, he still had not realised what he had done in front of his dongsaengs.

"Keep it in, baby," Heeseung took two of his fingers and pushed the cum back inside her, causing Della to gasp. "Add onto it, Jongseong," he patted Jay's bare shoulder with his clean hand before heading towards the bathroom.

"My pleasure," Jay whispered. He wrapped his arms around Della's body and instantly pushed himself inside her once again. "Fuckkk, Della."

"Yess! Oppaa!" Della squeezed her eyes shut, letting out babbles of words that barely made any sense. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly absorbing inside her as Jay fucked it deeper. The sounds of the moisture only turning on everyone in the room more.

"Fuck! You're gonna cum soon, aren't ya?" Jay's hard-but-slow pace tried to quicken when he felt Della tightening around him. "Just a little more, baby– Oppa's almost there, wait for me," he left kisses on the side of her face as he tried to concentrate on cumming together with his girl.

Fortunately for him, Della knows exactly what to do in this situation.

"Fill me up good, oppa. Make me feel so full," Jay had never verbally admitted it to her, but she knows that he has a breeding kink. "Stuff me full of—"

"FUUUUCK, I'm cumming!" Jay's left hand frantically went to search for Della's. "C'mere baby," while his right hand went to bring her face to his.

They connected their lips together, essentially muffling their moans (and screams). Della used her free hand to hold onto his head, making the scene look even more sweet.

"I love you, Della," Jay mumbled against her lips.

"I love you, Jay," Della whined at the feeling of her own orgasm mixed with Jay's (and Heeseung's). "So, so much."

"So, so much," Jay left a final kiss on her forehead before getting off of her back. His eyes immediately went to her cum-filled entrance. "Good girl, keep it in," he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of barely any cum leaking out.

He chuckled when Della wiggled her ass for fun. "How cute," he slapped her ass and stood up. "Agh fuck, you really milked me dry."

"Come on, it hasn't been THAT long, guys," Della rolled her eyes. "We didn't even last the whole month."

Just as she finished talking, a harsher slap was placed on her ass.

"You fuck four men on a daily basis– you still think you could've handled it?" Sunghoon asked, flipping Della onto her back. "Do I also need to remind that you were the one who gave in first? YOU?" he grabbed onto her leg to pull her closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him. "Don't make me teach you a lesson."

"Go easy on her, Sunghoon-ah. She's about to receive a handful with you and Jaeyun," Heeseung reminded. He grabbed Jay's and his cans of beer before joining Jay on the bed. The two were now dressed in their boxers.

"Yeah, just shut up and let's do our shit," Jake impatiently took off his pants but kept his shirt on, only removing his zip-up. "You've done anal, baby?" Della nodded her head in enthusiasm. "Yeah? And you like it?"

"Mhmm! Are we doing what I think we're doing?" Jake chuckled at her excitement.

"You're adorable. Isn't it gonna hurt, baby?" the tips of Jake's fingers began grazing Della's thigh.

"I wanna be closer to my men," Della gave out a seductive look to both Jake and Sunghoon, making sure to use Korean so Sunghoon would understand.

"How cute," Sunghoon mumbled. "Don't forget your safe words," he ran a hand through Della's hair before laying down on the bed, legs still seated on the edge.

"Is she getting on top of you or me?" Jake asked his partner. "Isn't it more comfortable with you on top?"

"I mean... It's easier for me to thrust but it's more comfortable for her to hug me, no?" Sunghoon explained. "Won't it be unstable if she lays on her back?"

"No– Della should be on her stomach, on her back is difficult, I think," Heeseung pointed at the three.

"Are you doing double?" Jay's eyes widened when he realised what they were discussing.

"Uh," Jakehoon replied briefly.

"Then Della should be on her stomach and the one who does the back thrusts from behi– on top," Jay gave his take.

"No– the reason why I say she should be on her back is because she needs to be distracted from the pain and Sunghoon would be able to thrust and properly do that," Jake tried to explain his take. "Otherwise his movements are limite—"

Their discussion was cut off by a loud groan from Della, followed by the girl hovering over Sunghoon chest-to-chest.

"Stop taking so fucking long and just fuck me," she wasted no more time and slipped Sunghoon's cock into her entrance.

"Oh my God!" "Oh fuck!" the two hissed at the sudden feeling.

"Fucking finally!" Sunghoon threw his head back. "Come here, kitten," he repositioned Della a little so he could move more comfortably.

Thanks to his long legs, all he needed to do so was to hold her in place.

"So fucking tight," he said with gritted teeth. He was never one to make a lot of noises in bed, but with his buddies around, he's determined to look cool. He was gonna try to contain his facial expressions, which is something he never holds back on.

Yet his plan went straight out the window when Della adorably cuddled into his chest.

"Oppaaa," she whined.

"Aww, kitten– my princess," he cooed, bringing one of his hands to hug her close. "Does that feel good, kitten?"

Della could only mew louder and nuzzle her head more, making all four boys coo at the sight.

"This seems enough for you, baby. Do you really need more?" Jake went up to her face to tease while his lubed finger equally teased her back entrance.

Della looked into his eyes and said the one name that the two have kept a secret for a long time.

"Please, daddy?"

Jake halted for a second, taken aback at the sudden change of mind. He was not one to be shy about his kink, but Della was a bit apprehensive that the members just won't understand.

But weirdly enough, none of the boys reacted, as if they already knew of the fact.

"Sunghoon, stop moving for a second," Jake went back to his position and squeezed more lube onto Della's hole. "Stay relaxed, darling," he warned Della before pushing a finger in.

"Mmm," she closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"I'm right here, princess," Sunghoon whispered in her ear. "Relax some more," and immediately continued his movements.

"There ya go, good girl," Jake muttered, slowly twisting and pumping his finger. When Della was almost fully relaxed and resumed her previous moaning, Jake gradually added another finger in and followed by another once she adjusted to that as well. "Such a good girl."

"Ahh! I'm gonna cum!" Della announced, pushing her upper body up to catch a glimpse of what Jake's doing. "Fuck!" her eyes rolled back as she turned back to Sunghoon. "Oh my Goodness!" her moans only got louder when she looked at Sunghoon's facial expressions.

As always, his eyebrows were furrowed the whole time while he switched between biting/licking his lips, having his mouth open or gritting his teeth. He had completely forgotten about his initial plan of restraining himself.

"Go cum, darling," he choked out, giving his last few hard thrusts after Della threw her head back and cried out.

He almost let out a sigh of relief. If Della waited just a few seconds longer, he too would've been calling to cum and he did not want that just yet.

"Relax a bit, kitten," neither Sunghoon nor Jake pulled out, but they wanted to give Della time to catch her breath.

"What a good girl," Jay noticed Jake ripping open the condom wrapper and immediately sprung to action. "Taking four men so well," he continued to drop praises while caressing her hair.

"If it gets too much, please let us know and Jake can jerk off for the night or something," Heeseung also joined in with a joke.

"Hyung!" Jake whined. He somehow successfully got the condom on with just one hand, and is now lathering his length with the lube.

"Byee daddy" Jay added fuel to the fire by grinning and waving at him.

"Shut the fuck up, Jay, I complimented you earlier," Jake sent a glare at his friend.

"The tension is insane. Now kiss," Della lifted her head to comment.

No matter how many times she has teased them, they have never expressed or voiced their discomfort, which she knows they aren't afraid to do. In Della's mind, this would imply that the possibility of it happening is not zero.

"Aish Lalaa!" "Eyy!" "Babe!" "Aghh" the four boys complained, with Jake adding an additional smack to her ass.

"You think his dick is big, right? You have my permission and sucking ONE dick does not make you ga—"

"Okay, that's enough," Sunghoon spoke up and gave her one hard thrust. "Jake and I still need to cum, princess. Stop the yapping."

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered, bringing her head down to rest on Sunghoon's chest again.

"I'm only letting you off since you've been so good to us, understand? Don't test my patience," he said in a low voice, his hips starting to move in a steady pace once again.

"Understood," Della let out a high-pitched moan at the stimulus but was cut off with her own gasp as Jake pulled his fingers out.

"I'm putting it in," Jake breathed out. He squeezed some more lube on Della's rim before slowly entering. "FUCK!"

"Mmh!" Della had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to adjust to his size (especially with Sunghoon in her other hole).

"Our strong baby," "Such a good girl," Jay and Heeseung showered her in praises, using their hands to caress her arm and back while Sunghoon does so with her hair.

"Fuck– so fucking tight," Jake threw his head back when he was fully inside her. "Hang in there, baby, good job," he smoothed his hand over her ass.

"Yellow?" Heeseung asked about the safe word, just in case.

"Green," she quickly answered. "Can you move slowly, oppa?" her head shifted to make eye contact with Sunghoon.

"Of course, darling," he placed a kiss on her hair before slowly pumping her. "Shit, kitten," he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back.

Because of Jake, she felt tighter than usual but was still wet as ever. He knew he couldn't last long, especially after nearly cumming earlier.

"Jaeyun, please move," Della breathed out, starting to feel pleasure again.

Both Jake and Della let out a loud gasp at the sensation. The pace began to quicken in no time, making the scene look like it came straight out of an incognito site.

"Oh my– fuuuuuuck!" Della moaned loudly, feeling fuller than she's ever felt. "Oppaaa! Daddyyyy!" little tears began pooling in the corner of her eyes. "Aaaaaaahhh!"

"So good, baby. Taking both of us so well," Jake leaned forward to mumble in her ear. "Shittt, so tight baby," his face held a large smile and left temporary hickies around her neck and shoulders. "My good girl."

There's no doubt that the back end is tighter, but Jake's favourite was really the sight of having two of her holes stuffed, and the fact that him and Sunghoon were the first ones to do that.

The three were so into each other that they didn't notice Heeseung getting up to retrieve Sunghoon's old, red iPhone. He knew that they would want the scene to be recorded— for their eyes only, of course.

"I'm recording," Heeseung announced before pressing record. They all turned to Heeseung for a second and resumed like nothing happened.

"Come here, kitten," Sunghoon grunted, pulling Della's face in for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth when she felt her two best friends quicken their pace.

She noticed Jake tugging at her hair, so she broke the kiss off to then connect her lips with his, bringing a hand back to hold his head in place.

Jay, who did not want to just lay there beside them, started playing with Della's tits while palming himself. He personally doesn't need more, but he did not want the video to appear awkward.

"You guys really look so fucking hot," Heeseung commented. He turned off the recording and went back to his original spot. "I wanna kiss, baby," his head got closer so Della could easily kiss him.

"FUCK! I'm cumming!" Della pulled away to scream out. Her eyes were closed shut and her open mouth spewed out loud whines after whine.

"Yesss, kitten," "Me too, baby, me too," Sunghoon threw his head back while Jake buried his face in her neck. It did not take the three long at all to reach their orgasm.

"Jay-oppaa," Della managed to let out, weakly stretching an arm out so he could come closer. "I haven't kissed you."

Jay felt his heart swell in adoration and he swiftly did as told without hesitation.

"Fuckk! Aaaahhh!" Della pulled away but kept their foreheads together and squeezed Heeseung's hand.

They looked absolutely ridiculous being in one big huddle (and it was certainly not the most comfortable), yet that was the moment when the five of them were just connected. It's what they needed and exactly what they hoped for tonight.

"I'm cumming, baby," Jake's voice was shaky, and his thrusts started faltering first. "Shit! Good girl, baby. Good girl, good girl!"

"Shit! Shit!" both Jake and Della came around the same time. The former usually takes his time to ride out his high but he almost instantly pulled out so Sunghoon could finish properly.

Sunghoon looked at him in thanks, immediately adjusting his position and hurriedly chased his orgasm. Della started shaking and screaming with overstimulation, letting go of Heejay to hold on tightly to Sunghoon.

"Shit! Ahh baby, almost ther– NOW KITTEN. NOW, now, now!" Sunghoon babbled a bit as his orgasm overtook his body. "Shit," he sighed and relaxed his body, still holding onto Della tightly. "You're amazing, princess. I love you," he chuckled breathily.

"I love you, my prince," Della breathed out with a smile.

The two shared a sweet kiss before Sunghoon pulled away and shifted Della over to Jake, who was now lying beside him.

"What a good girl.You're an absolute champ and you're incredible," Jake couldn't help but chuckle. "We're so fucking lucky, baby. I love you so much," he then connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

"I'M so lucky to have you guys and I just love you sooo much," once they pulled away, Della's head instantly went to rest on Jake's chest. "Let's clean up before we get too tired."

"Oh no you don't," Jake shifted their position so Della would lay on her back. He got on top of her with a mischievous grin on his face.

"I called dibs on cleaning you off, remember?"

Eventually everyone washed up and got ready for bed. They decided to all sleep together on the makeshift king-sized bed with Della in the centre. They were cuddled closely, but it didn't really matter anymore to them.

"Guys, we're actually really cute," Heeseung giggled. "I fucking love this relationship."

"Just a bunch of bros with our girl" Jake sighed. He held Della tighter to his chest and shut his eyes, ready to sleep.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna call me a hoe," Della giggled, looking up at him.

"I'm never gonna call you a hoe, babe! I'm not Sunghoon!" Jake's reply made Sunghoon smack his shoulder.

"I will never call her that!" Sunghoon looked at him with betrayal. "I don't even know what that means but I know it's bad!"

"You call her names in bed, we all know it!" Jake protested back.

"Ya– rarely ever, right princess? Only on certain times and we both have no issues with it," Della nodded at Sunghoon's defence. "See?! Don't kinkshame me, daddy."

"YAA!" Jake shaking Sunghoon's leg off of his own.

"Today's session just revealed everyone's kinks," Jay laughed. "Sunghoon likes to call Della 'kitten', Jake likes to be called 'daddy', Della apparently likes anal," he stopped himself for saying Heeseung's out of respect.

"Pffftt, okay mister kinky. Didn't know you could go hard like that," Sunghoon grinned. "I thought you just liked vanilla but you were slapping Lala and everything."

"Why do you like to get slapped?" Jay ignored Sunghoon and asked the girl he was semi-holding.

"I don't know! Sometimes I just like things!" Della shrugged defensively. "I like a whole bunch of things!"

"Yeah and your boyfriends all like different things too," Sunghoon chuckled. "You're absolutely perfect for us."

"Awww," Della grinned but got shy and hid her face in Jake's chest. "I'm sorry for making you all join No Nut November. This was really dumb and I'm also really sorry for losing to someone who didn't even join."

"Don't worry about that, darling. It's all forgiven and practically forgo—" Jay's words were cut off by the boom of Heeseung's voice beside him.

"WAIT!" Heeseung shot up straight in realisation. Della and Jake both jumped in surprise while Sunghoon and Jay flinched. Heeseung looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

There was a reason why he was quiet the whole time. It's because it just hit him how;

"YOU GUYS FUCKING SAW ME IN MY WEAK STATE!"

i gotta be honest, i hate to be that person but i was feeling really insecure about my writing tbh. like the first draft was not hot AT ALL and i wanted this long awaited/overdue smut to make you guys all hot and bothered y'know? i think it's much better now and i'm feeling both proud and insecure but i hope you enjoyed it and happy anniversary! taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #kang lala #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut

449 notes · View notes