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#so astonishing how painful it is each time
nutongzhi · 5 months
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cramping so bad rn
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Girls Castellan might like
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena kid!Reader
Summary: After talking to Annabeth, you try to figure out who Luke likes. And what would be the best way to do this other than a list?
Warnings: fluff, english is not my native language
Word Count: 2.6k
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First when you had arrived, Camp Half-Blood sounded like a dream. A place where you were finally safe, thanks to Mr. D. the weather was always good and there were many activities. But after some time, doing always the same stuff got boring. Learning ancient Greek, cleaning stables, Pegasus riding, picking strawberries, Sword and archery training, Volleyball, Capture the Flag, swimming in the lake, and campfire singalongs. Every week it was the same. Thanks Aphrodite, you were all hormonal teenagers and at least there was sometimes exciting drama at camp.
Like right now, you were sitting at breakfast, and you couldn't help but notice, that Lucy, Daughter of Aphrodite, was glaring holes in the back of Luke Castellan’s head. Clutching the knife firm that her knuckles were white, she looked as if she was about to jump up and pounce on the Hermes cabin counselor. A big contrast to yesterday, when they couldn't keep their hands off each other around the campfire. So, what happened in the darkness of the night?
"You see it too?”, you asked your half-sister Annabeth curious, who already had assessed the whole situation.
“It’s not surprising, she isn’t his type.”
“Not his type?”, you echoed taken aback.
Before Luke and Lucy were a thing, only for ten days but still a thing, he had something with one of Lucy’s half-sisters. There had been a lot of drama, when Luke had ended things with Stephanie and was seen kissing Lucy three days later. It had been a lot of fun, maybe except for Luke, Stephanie, and Lucy. But back to the actual situation, after this story, everybody, you too, though that Luke’s type were beautiful girls, preferable daughters of Aphrodite. And who could blame him? They were otherworldly pretty.
“He likes feisty girls who are good fighters”, Annabeth told you unaffected while picking at her bacon with her fork.
“How do you know that?”
Annabeth and Luke were close, like siblings. But you couldn’t imagine neither Annabeth nor Luke lying down on one of their beds and talking about girls.
“Because he is so obvious.”
If she said so. You hadn't noticed it yet, but maybe you hadn't looked closely either. You had wanted to spare yourself the pain.
“And who does he like?”, you dared a short look at Luke, who was laughing about something Chris had said. Seeing this, you couldn’t help it, your lips pulled up to a small smile. Next to you Annabeth rolled her eyes. But you only had eyes for the pretty head counselor of cabin 11.
“Won’t tell you”, astonished you teared your eyes of Luke and looked to your little sister. A smug smile was dancing around her mouth. “You always complain that you're bored.  Perhaps finding it out may help you battle your boredom.”
You immediately regretted complaining to her about your boredom at the start of your breakfast. This was now her revenge.
“Can you at least tell me if it’s a girl or a boy.”
“A girl, that's the only tip you get.”
Like every organized person you started your research with a list. Your list with the very fitting title ‘Girls Castellan might like’ included every girl at camp, except the ones who were too young and the girls you knew, were bad at fighting.
Next your research led you in the arena, where Luke was teaching sword fight. Clutching your list, like it was your most prized possession, you searched for a good place to keep an eye on everything. With a little bit of luck, you would be able to watch, how Luke was interacting with some of the girls on your list and could draw further conclusions from this.
You weren’t the only one, who came just to watch the practice. A few seats away sat a few daughters of Aphrodite. And you quickly understood why.
Holding a sword Luke was a force to be reckoned with. His movements were smooth as butter, and you couldn’t help noticing his muscles tensing under his shirt as he performed various exercises. Your gaze unconsciously slipped to his large hands, which were loosely holding the sword. After years of wielding a sword, they must be covered with calluses. How would it feel, if his callused hands would wander over your body, cupping your hips to pull you closer to him?
“What are you scheming?”
An all too familiar voice snapped you out of your daydream. Caught like a deer in headlights you looked up to Luke Castellan, who was standing right in front of you. Just looking at his hands, you could feel a blush slowly creeping up. Damn hormones.
“I’m not scheming”, you protested while stuffing the list hastily in the back pocket of your jeans shorts.
“Sure, that's why you're hiding the note”, amused Luke’s brown eyes sparkled. And what beautiful eyes he had. Stop! You had to concentrate! “Besides kids of Athena don’t just sit around and watch people, you lot are always scheming.”
“If you say so”, trying to seem cool, you shrugged your shoulders. “But that’s not why you came here.”
“Always so wise, fancy a fight?”
„There is no way I will beat you with a sword.”
And why fight if you already knew that you would lose? That wasn’t your style. You and your half-siblings knew better than that.
“What about hand-to-hand combat?”
Now you were talking! In hand-to-hand combat you could stand a chance.
“So desperate to lose, Castellan?”, you teased trying to drive away the nervousness that had settled in your bones. Sometimes you hated the nervousness Luke Castellan made you feel in his present, but looking at him, you knew, that you could never hate him.
“When it comes to you, I’m always desperate”, there was a time, were words like that form Luke’s lips, had made your heart flatter. That was before you realized that he was just a big flirt and wasn’t serious. But now, older, and wiser, you just rolled your eyes, before you motioned for him to follow you down in the arena.
“Flirting will not help you to win.”
Luke just shrugged, “Doesn't hurt trying.”
Yours and Luke’s hand-to-hand combats were famous around the camp. Luke had quick reflexes, was tall and full of muscles, while you were a strategic mastermind, always three steps ahead. And none of you shied away from getting down and dirty. Therefore, it was no surprise, that a ring of onlookers had already formed before one of you could throw the first punch. Besides, you were too focused to really mind it. You had already fought against Luke so often, that it felt more like a rehearsed dance than a fight. Maybe this was your way of dancing. While the Aphrodite girls danced around the bonfire, you danced in an arena to the music of your own heartbeat.
Like always it was Luke who opened the fight. With one large strike he closed the distanced between you and tried to punch you in your face, so your hands would go up, and he could kick you in your belly. Seeing this coming, you caught his hand with yours and while he lifted his leg, your swiped yours under his other one to bring him down. Letting go of his hands, you watched with a smile, how the tumbled down to the floor. But instead of going after him, you gave him the time you stand up. He was stronger than you, so you wanted to avoid wrestling with him on the floor so early at all costs, it would only end badly for you. First, he had to get tired, and none knew better that you how to wear down Luke Castellan.
His next three punches you easily dodged and then you stroke. Letting go of a flurry of blows it was Luke’s turn to block. For a moment you just exchanged blows, neither of you managed to blow the other's cover. But then Luke clipped the side of your face and while hot pain shot through your left cheek, you stumbled back. However, as fast as he punched you, you recovered. Dipping under his outstretched arm, you twisted said arm in a painful angle. You could hear his sharp inhale. And maybe it brought you a little bit of joy. But before you knew what happened, Luke had knelt and thrown you over his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, including yours, you somehow managed to land on your feet. Taking advantage of the chance that his face was still near your knees, you rammed your knee into his nose, drawing first blood. Both of you watched stunned how it dripped down from his chin to the floor, where it mixed with the sand. You had won sooner than any of you thought.
“It was a good fight, sorry about your nose”, you winced, but Luke just waved you off.
“It’s fine.  I would have preferred it if you had won the fight with a tackle, but that's the way it is.”
Before you could respond a pretty girl from cabin 10 rushed to Luke with a handkerchief in her hands, and you were forgotten. Not wanting to watch Luke soaking up her attention, you retreated.
Only when you had left the arena and wanted to reach for your list, you found it missing.  As if struck by lightning, you froze. You were pretty sure, that you didn’t lose the list. If it had fallen out of your pocket, you would have seen it lying on the floor, you were sure of it. That could only mean one thing. Just thinking about it made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Hot panic shot up your back and you felt like screaming. Someone had stolen your list, without you even noticing.  There was only one person who got close enough to you to do this and at the same time had the nimble fingers required, Luke Castellan.
At dinner, you were sulking in self-pity while you were trying very hard to look everywhere except at a certain table. Maybe if you would not draw his attention for a week or maybe two, he would forget about the list. Or at least you could pretend that he forgot. The other option was, that you would flee from camp and never look back. Considering the monsters that lurked outside the borders for young demigods, the first was clearly the safer option.
The fear that he would share the list with all the campers, and they would laugh at you, gnawed at you, that you couldn't swallow a bite. Your throat felt like it was tight up, yet it was your hands who were tight up. You couldn’t do anything besides waiting for the storm to blow over, and you hated it.
Your thoughts got interrupted by a paper plane which landed perfectly in front of you. Surprised, your head shot up, and your eyes locked with a pair of dark brown ones. Sending you a wink, Luke dived into conversation with his siblings, and you couldn’t help but groan. His father was the messenger god, if Luke wanted to convey a message, he could do it by paper plane without any problems.
Torn you looked at the paper plane. Did you really want to know what he had to say? What if he just wanted to make fun of you? But if not? With shaking hands, you picked up the paper. Your mum was Athena, goddess of war, you wouldn't hide from Castellan, you would face this fight. Determinedly unfolding the paper, your eyes scanned the list spread out in front of you. You knew this list; you had written this list. Everything was how you had left it, beside one thing. Luke has crossed out the ‘might’ in the title and had replaced it with a ‘doesn't’ in his scraggly handwritten. Now the new title of your list read as ‘Girls Castellan doesn't like ‘.    
A few days passed and you weren’t wiser. There must be a mistake! The list you made included every girl, that could fight and wasn’t a child. If Annabeth wasn't wrong, Luke had to like one of them. And Annabeth was never wrong. Crouching on your bottom lip you looked down on the list in your hands.
You were sitting in the grass near the strawberry fields, the sun was warming your face. When you weren't busy avoiding Luke, you were thinking about the list and its meaning. By changing the title Luke hinted, that he didn’t like any of the girls on the list. You had double and triple checked it, you hadn’t forgotten anyone. But Annabeth couldn’t be wrong, that had never happened before. It was maddening. It was like a riddle you were too dumb to solve, and you hated it. You were a daughter of Athena for god’s sake. Right now, you were possible one of her greatest shames, if she was interested enough in you to know what you were up to.
Before more negative thoughts could fill your mind, a shadow appeared over you. As you looked up, calluses hands stole the list out of your fingers. Groaning you faced none other than Luke Castellan.
“Still trying to find out who I fancy?”, he asked with a shit eating grin, and you couldn’t help but blush. But before you exposed yourself any further, you went into offense. As well known, attack was the best defense.
“You mislead me intentional”, you accused him. “The list includes every girl from camp. If Annabeth not wrong, you must like one of them.”
And you both knew Annabeth was never wrong.
“Actually, you forgot one person on your little list.”
That couldn’t be. You checked the list, more than once. You hadn’t! But it wouldn’t hurt to check the list another time.
“Give me the list”, you demanded, but Luke just hold the list over his head out of your reach. This was how he wanted to play it? Fine by you. Springing to your feet, you reached for the list, but Luke was taller than you. Tiptoeing you unconsciously moved closer to Luke. You first realized how close you were, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. Fighting a blush you hold your breath. You were so close, that Luke could certainly feel your heart almost jumping out of your chest.
“You are missing from the list”, he whispered, and you just could gape. That was too good to be true. That must be a dream.
“Because you can’t fancy me.”
“Why not?”
Truly confused, Luke furrowed his brows. Never had you seen him like this, and slowly you realized that he wasn’t joking. He didn’t want to trick you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Had you not wished for this for a long time?
“I’m not pretty like the Aphrodite girls you dated”, you confessed your insecurity. But Luke didn’t want to hear anything about it.
“In my eyes you are. You are tougher, braver, smarter, and far more beautiful. You are perfect. Can I kiss you?”
Lost for words, you could just nod. Carefully taking your face in his hands, he stroked back your hair, before lowering his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, slow and everything you ever wanted. Sadly, it was over way too fast.
“I’m very glad Annabeth told me to help you with your project, on the day we fought. Otherwise, I wouldn't have stolen your list”, Luke confessed, still caressing your face. Oh, you see what she did there.
“Seems like she did set us up. Should we prank her for this?”
“Did I already tell you, that you are perfect?”            
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writerpeach · 8 months
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Overindulgent
IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader
14k+ words
---
Read on AFF
Read on AO3
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“Chocolate or strawberry?”
It should have been a simple question to answer.
As simple as naming a favorite color, most people would have no trouble answering without hesitation, based on preference or what one was in the mood for. Milkshakes were the perfect treat, universally loved and the best thing to have on a hot summer day, especially after a grueling two-hour, forgettable class.
But most people weren’t Jang Wonyoung. “Two flavors? That’s all?”
Around her, nothing would ever be simple. If you asked her to name two numbers, she would find some justification to add a third.
“Sorry, princess,” you said with obvious mockery in your tone. “That’s all there is. But you can add toppings.”
“If one of those toppings isn’t mint, then I don’t---ugh, fine. Strawberry.”
Wonyoung audibly sighed when she grabbed her pink milkshake, sitting down at one of the white leather booths in the farthest possible corner from everything as could be.
She looked unsatisfied even before her first sip, and lifelessly stirred the creamy concoction, hoping to somehow conjure up something more appealing. Wonyoung had very specific tastes, and didn’t particularly care for stepping out of her comfort zone.
Watching for her reaction, Wonyoung made a loud slurp through her long red straw set amidst a sea of sugar. “How is it?”
“It’s too sweet.”
Of all the possibilities in the world, nothing prepared you for that one.
“It’s a milkshake…” you said with a furrowed brow.
Yujin introduced you to this particular place. Two straws, one big chocolate milkshake, and an elated look of bliss on her face later, and she was slurping it down until nothing but air filled her straw. So it was only natural that you’d invite Wonyoung here with the same expectations. That was your first mistake.
“Well, it’s too sweet.”
Incredible.
Being seated across the booth from Wonyoung felt like you were part of a failed science experiment, because every sip taken came with a different reaction, like she expected her opinion to change. When she wiped bits of whipped cream from her glossy lips, the growing disdain on her face didn’t disappear with it.
Who knew you'd located the sole person in the entire universe who disliked milkshakes? That alone was an achievement worthy of a medal or plaque to proudly display on the fireplace for all to see.
“Here, you finish it,” Wonyoung said, verging on demand as she slid it across the table next to your half-finished chocolate shake.
“But I already have one. And this is plenty,” you replied, taking a long sip, and savoring the sugary bliss to help ease the pain of your astonishment.
“Ugh, fine. Just throw it away. I paid for them both, but I don’t even want to look at it anymore.”
“No---wait. I’ll save it for Yujin. She loves sweet things.”
“Fine. It’s a good thing I brought my car then. Wouldn’t want it to melt. I’ve seen how much she enjoys swallowing creamy thick liquids down her throat…”
Something so uncharacteristic caught you off-guard. Jang Wonyoung was many things: bossy, spoiled, infuriating more times than you could count, but lewd jokes that sprang from nowhere without so much as a smirk? Not what you expected today.
Wonyoung slid out of the booth and made for the exit. You followed behind, both milkshakes in hand, and took turns sipping from each one, enjoying the unique flavors each brought.
“I can’t believe anyone likes those things. They’re just sugar.”
“That’s why everyone likes them. But that would assume our little princess actually knew how to enjoy anything.” That remark caught you in her deadly gaze, but you didn’t hold back the smile on your face, perhaps to your detriment.
“Keep that up and you’re walking home.”
“Oh, come on, princess. We both know you enjoy my company too much. It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.”
“Is that so?” Wonyoung entered her black, two-door sports car and closed the door with yet another icy glare. Seconds after, you grabbed the cold metal handle and opened it, to no avail. Without success, you tried again---but the door didn’t budge an inch. Tapping on the window proved as pointless as offering Wonyoung another sip of milkshake.
“Wonyoung---“ Ignoring any attempt you made to grab her attention, she instead revved the engine in succession and avoided your gaze with every stomp on the pedal.
Surely, she wouldn’t---
“Come on, this isn’t funny. Just open the door.” The door handle might as well have been fashioned out of paper and glued on, for as useless as it now was. After trying one last time, Wonyoung cracked open the window just enough to speak.
“It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.” That was the last thing you heard before her tires squealed and she sped off without looking back.
…she would.
Guess you were walking off all that ice cream.
You still couldn’t believe it. Wonyoung wasn’t a stranger to your teasing, but never took it so seriously before. On the plus side, at least the ice cream shop wasn’t more than a twenty-minute walk from your place. Well, it wasn’t exactly your place, and you just had the privilege of living in a luxurious high-rise apartment that had Wonyoung and Yujin’s names on the dotted line.
Ten minutes from campus, the loft came fully furnished with an always stocked fridge, a gorgeous pool, spacious bedrooms, and one of the best views you could ask for, while also saving you from the nightmares of dorm life.
Quite contrary to your first year of college spent in a shoe-box sized room, an uncomfortable bed, and a quiet, messy roommate, always there when you needed just a minute to yourself. It taught you a valuable lesson to never underestimate the value of privacy.
Maybe a stroke of luck that at the end of that semester from hell came your first encounter with Yujin. Tucked away in a secluded corner at the library, she recognized you from class and offered to help study. One study session grew into two, which turned into three, then led into several sessions over coffee every week, until you were seeing each other virtually every day.
Over time, the two of you got closer, meeting without the pretense of studying. Then one day, the books got tossed aside, and the only thing being studied was how far Yujin could ram her tongue down your mouth.
You learned early on how difficult it was to say no to Yujin. Whether you were in the middle of the library, taking up spots on the packed couches, the always crowded student center, or right by the administration office, no place was off-limits for an impromptu make-out session. Eventually, those steamy make-out sessions migrated to Yujin’s place, where your first encounter with her younger roommate Wonyoung took place with your pants and underwear around your ankles.
You didn’t know what was more awkward, the act of being caught in the middle of Yujin blowing you on the couch, or that Wonyoung stayed for the entire show. And that was your first lesson about Wonyoung and her voyeuristic tendencies.
The two of them were the best of friends and never strayed far from one another outside of class. But Wonyoung loved to watch your sex-crazed moments with Yujin, insisting that she wouldn’t get in the way or be noticeable. Which, true or not, could never be something you grew used to---the younger of the two sitting silently inches away, lurking like a cat in the shadows when you ate her out on the kitchen counter, while Yujin rode you on the couch, or whatever other outcome that ended with the both of you covered in sweat and panting heavily.
Months later, you were moving in at their behest, which made sense when you spent most of your time there. Any offerings to pay your fair share of rent were denied, as both of your new roommates were very well off with no financial concerns. Nevertheless, your infinite methods of pleasuring Yujin more than made up for it.
So after settling in, (which took some time for you to grow accustomed to waking up surrounded by luxury), you couldn’t be more thankful, not only being freed from the burdens of rent but also from the tortures of dorm living, and the three of you grew inseparable.
Mostly. Because when Wonyoung was in a bad mood, the whole universe knew about it. Making her the butt of jokes was your way of chipping away at that stuck up attitude, but it had never backfired quite spectacularly like this.
As you neared your shared loft, a tremendous sense of relief filled your body, but did little to dissipate the anger that pumped through your veins. Overheated, sweaty, and stuck holding a milkshake that no longer met that definition, the only thing that cooled your temper (quite literally), was the frigid blasts of air-conditioning that hit you when you stepped through the front door.
“Oh, look who it is. Enjoy the sun?” asked Wonyoung when you stepped inside, lying at the end of the L-shaped gray couch. Sporting a smug smile on her face, she folded her arms, and leaned back into the cushions, completely oblivious to the daggers you stared in her direction.
“Daddy, you’re home. Where were you?” Yujin asked as she approached closer, embracing you in her arms, and planted a kiss on your cheek. “You’re all sweaty. And you’re burning up, too.”
“Maybe you should ask her.” With gritted teeth, you stared a hole into the petite woman sprawled out on the couch cushions, face buried in her phone without a single care in the world.
“Wonyoung?”
“Yes, unnie?” she asked, reluctant to look up for even a moment. Too obsessed with her phone, Wonyoung wouldn’t even notice if the house was on fire.
“Weren’t you two together? Why did you make it home first by yourself? And why does daddy look like he just ran a marathon?”
“Hold on, I almost have enough jades for another pull.”
“Jang Wonyoung! Answer me. You’ve already spent enough money on that stupid game.”
“It’s not stupid, you’re just bad at it. Don’t be jealous because I have better characters than you.”
Yujin let out a heavy sigh while a frown formed on her face, torn between scolding Wonyoung or ensuring you were alright.
Meanwhile, you hurried to the refrigerator out of fear of passing out and downed a bottle of water, but left just enough liquid to pour over your head, running your fingers through wet hair to cool yourself off more.
“Daddy, what happened? Why are you so tired?” Yujin asked, entering the kitchen as she turned her attention away from Wonyoung.
“Because this fucking brat ditched me.”
“Listen here, asshole---“ Wonyoung finally sat up from her phone, tossed it aside and clenched her fists, the swelling rage in her eyes overtaking her body.
“Hey, stop that. Both of you,” Yujin said, rapidly losing control of the situation. That sweet voice of hers could soothe an entire forest fire, but here, it held zero sway when your bickering became like two rams butting heads.
“What’s the matter, princess? Your servants haven’t arrived to cook your five star meal and clean your throne?”
“Daddy, that’s enough,” Yujin warned, trying to tug at your arm while making herself a barrier between the two of you.
“I don’t get what you’re upset about. Don’t you love the outdoors? Like when you made me walk in the woods for hours? I told you, I hate bugs.”
“What a shocker, you hate everything! Rain, milkshakes, anything that isn’t you being pampered---“
“Enough!” Yujin said as she slammed her fists on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake. “You’re both in university, aren’t you? Or did you suddenly enroll in preschool? Because you’re both acting like children.”
The house grew eerily silent. After getting a second bottle of water, you leaned against the refrigerator and sipped it silently as your body tensed up.
“Wonyoung, I want you to apologize,” Yujin said, lowering her voice as she tried to control the chaos.
“What?” she scoffed, sinking back into the couch as she squeezed her phone tight. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”
Yujin clenched her jaw as she took a deep breath. “Apologize. Now.”
“Of course, you always take sides with him. Just because daddy has a nice cock doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything he says.”
“This isn’t about sides. This is about resolving a situation that I wasn’t there to handle. I want both of you to apologize. You’ve both been living together far too long to have childish arguments like this.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t apologize when I haven’t done anything wrong,” Wonyoung murmured as she stormed towards her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Yujin rubbed her temple in frustration. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have class in thirty minutes and I haven’t even eaten lunch yet.”
Gathering her things up, Yujin stuffed them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. After giving you one last kiss on the forehead, she turned towards the door. “Sorry, daddy. I know it wasn’t your fault. She’s just like this sometimes. She’s still so young, it’s been one of her traits I thought she’d grow out of…”
“It’s fine, Yujin. I’ll let her calm down, then try to talk things out with her. I shouldn’t have pushed so many buttons.”
“Thanks, daddy. Just try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Yujin’s radiating smile put out any last remnants of anger you had, with the door closing a signal of her departure. Seeking refuge on the couch, you plopped down, kicked your shoes off, and relaxed into the pillows, the first chance of relaxation since your alarm went off. If it wasn’t early afternoon and you didn't have any studying to do, you would open one of the more fancy bottles of wine that was calling your name from the kitchen cabinet.
Instead, you opted for something more mundane and grabbed the remote, accepting whatever suggestion the TV app doled out, even if you settled with background noise to help relax.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Wonyoung repeated louder and shook your shoulder, waking you up from an unexpected, unplanned nap that left you in a haze, unable to even discern what hour it was.
“What?” you sleepily asked, rubbing your eyes while you returned back to consciousness. The lack of proper sleep caught up with you, and the past hour didn’t help one bit.
“Can you turn it down a little? I’m trying to study, and you’re making that difficult.”
Not even fully awake, the last thing you wanted to hear was Wonyoung’s voice, let alone more complaints. It would be effortless to indulge what she asked, but you had no intentions to do anything about the noise. It was the last thing she deserved.
“And your loud voice is making it difficult for me to sleep,” you blurted out, unable to hide your annoyance. “I didn’t know you studied. I thought you just complained and bossed people around.”
Wonyoung maintained her steely gaze, tone calm and collected, a vast difference from before. “You have a bedroom, you know. Upstairs? Ugh, I’m not here to argue. I have a test on Friday that’s twenty percent, which is bullshit. I can’t fail it.”
“Then maybe you should go back to studying,” you said, disregarding her attempts to make eye contact.
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Wonyoung asked, rolling her eyes. “How am I supposed to get any studying done if you keep interrupting with your---whatever the hell this is you’re watching…”
Ignoring her was the only suitable option. You shifted your body sideways with hopes to elude her, only allowing furtive glances while focused on the screen. No matter what, you could still feel her presence looming while doing everything to avoid another heated argument.
Unable to stand still for a moment, Wonyoung interrupted the silence with a huff, a sign of surrender as she joined you on the couch and tucked her long legs underneath her. Grabbing a pillow from behind, she squeezed it, using it as stress relief when pressed against her chest. “You know, sometimes you can be a bit of an ass.”
You found it impossible not to laugh and eventually gave her the attention she didn’t deserve. “I know I didn’t just hear a spoiled little brat tell me what type of person I am.”
“I’m not always the nicest person, I’ll admit that,” Wonyoung muttered, sinking her head back into the pillows. Finally, something you could both agree on. But it still didn’t excuse her earlier actions.
“Is this your way of apologizing?“ you asked, and the way she looked at you resembled like you had just asked her to strip naked in front of you.
“You think I’m going to apologize?”
“No, because I know you’re not capable of ever admitting you were wrong.”
“That’s because I’m never wrong.” Wonyoung took a deep breath and let it out slowly to bring her composure under control. “If you thought I was going to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, that’s not happening.”
Wonyoung might have had all the money in the world, but it couldn’t buy an apology. “But I’m sure you’re used to getting on your knees.”
Her mouth dropped open, and you almost had an immediate regret for delivering such a low blow---almost. Fueled by anger, Wonyoung flung a pillow at your head, but you dodged it with ease, laughing at what a pathetic throw it was.
“You really are an asshole sometimes.”
Who needed an apology when you could see such a pissed off look on Wonyoung’s pretty face? It was the most irate you had ever seen her, a pure ball of fury; trembling fists, clenched jaw, and a death stare that could cut through diamonds.
“Oh, did I upset the princess again?”
“Stop calling me th---you know what, you’re not worth my time,” Wonyoung breathed out, narrowing her eyes before rising to her feet.
“And that’s your problem, princess.”
“What?” she asked, taking a step forward and balled her fists as she pivoted to confront you, letting you see the rage up close on her features.
“Nobody is worth your time. You don’t care about anything or anyone but yourself, unless it benefits you some shape or fashion.”
“That’s not true, how the fuck would you know what I care about? Just because we’ve lived together for months doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”
“You’ve got a mouth on you princess. That’s not like you.”
“I said don’t call me that!”
“Or what?” Following suit, you stood up, matching her height and then some. “You’ll cry about it? Complain some more?”
Wonyoung didn’t utter a word. Her anger boiled over, and without warning, she smacked you across the face, leaving both a sting and a smile across your face.
“That’s it, princess, let it all out.” Without retaliation, you let her inch forward, backing you up until you were pressed up against the living room wall. Wonyoung was hardly a threat. Her tall, but petite figure wasn’t remotely intimidating, and the closer she got, the more anger you could see in her eyes. Your smile widened as she delivered a harsher slap to your face, but you seized her delicate wrist to prevent a third, until eventually you let go, which provoked her to strike your cheek once again.
Those slaps only had as much power as her anger, with no remorse behind them, and the only reason you didn’t stop her was the see the explosive wrath in her pretty round eyes. The option to defuse the situation existed whenever you deemed it necessary, as simple as either picking her slender body up to toss her on the couch, or escorting her back to her room, whatever made her stop acting like such a pedantic little brat.
But testing Wonyoung’s limited patience became a game to you, until it snapped like the flimsiest of threads, letting her pretend she had the upper hand. The sting on your cheek only encouraged you to toy with her, adding fuel to the fires of rage.
Her little chest heaved as she recovered from the barrage of slaps, heart beating loud enough for you to hear. “Feel better?”
“Not even close.”
“Then hit me again. Come on, princess, Yujin isn’t here to save you. Why don’t you give it your all and make them hurt?”
Upping the agitation by repeatedly pointing at your cheek, you could do this all day. Because, god she made things far too easy.
“No. Like I said, you’re not---worth---it.”
The more she repeated that, the more you doubted it. Because Wonyoung could have backed away, retreated to her bedroom, the kitchen, the pool, literally anywhere else. Yet, she kept her feet planted firmly where she was, face to face so close that you could see your own reflection in her eyes.
And while you were so near, you could map out her perfect features, from her pink glossy lips to her typically bright eyes filled with fury, and everything in between. “You know, you’re pretty when you’re angry.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. Contrary to what you expected, Wonyoung’s intense gaze softened, and her fists relaxed until her breathing began to stabilize. You knew how to strike her weakness, that a simple compliment would douse her red hot rage and stroke her ego, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“D-don’t even start,” she said, but you could hear how flustered she became, how shaky her voice sounded. Another step and your foreheads would have touched, close enough already that you could smell the berries from her shampoo.
Wonyoung froze as a wave of emotions ran through her. You easily got lost in her lingering gaze, wondering what exactly went on behind those beautiful dark eyes. “That’s what you love, right? Being told how pretty you are?”
“Shut up. I don’t need compliments.”
Oh, but she did. Jang Wonyoung was a terrible liar and loved being showered in compliments almost as much as she loved arguing. You knew that vanity was her weak spot, and you planned to exploit that vulnerability.
“Answer me, princess. Do you like being called pretty?”
“I thought I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”
“What are you going to do if I---“
Before you could finish speaking, Wonyoung shoved you up against the wall and pressed her luscious lips against yours with surprising force. All that rage and resentment transformed into pure, unadulterated lust, which made you forget what you were even mad about in the first place.
The sweet taste of Wonyoung’s soft lips became the only thing that preoccupied your mind, alongside how your tongues danced in each other’s mouth, and how badly you wanted one thing---her.
With all rational thoughts and logic thrown out, you lifted Wonyoung’s petite frame up off the ground, snaked your arms around her tiny little waist and reclaimed control by press-ing her up against the wall. As the kiss kept going, Wonyoung tugged at your hair, trying to get any little advantage she could, but you didn’t let it distract you from exploring the soft curves of her tight body, and moved down to grab her ass, squeezing firmly as the both of you fought to deepen the kiss.
Breaking apart for air, you could see the rosy hues visible on her cheeks, those round eyes no longer filled with fury, but deep desire. And then you dove right back in for round two, lips parted once more, while hands roamed bodies and lips smacked, eager to keep her taste lingering in your mouth. When you kneaded Wonyoung’s ass harder, she moaned in your mouth, and you could feel every little touch making her tight body tremble.
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours, breath warm against your face. “God, you’re so annoying. I hate how good of a kisser you are.”
“And you’re such a brat.”
“But you like brats. Isn’t that right, daddy?”
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“Aw, is daddy getting mad again? Wait, where’s Yujin?” Wonyoung had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t even realized her closest friend and roommate hadn’t been there in hours.
“She went to class. Should probably be back soon.”
“Class? Yujin doesn’t have classes today.” Wonyoung raised her eyebrow, tilting her head in suspicion. “So that means…”
“She won’t be back for a while,” you said, putting the pieces together. Wonyoung giggled before leaning in once more to steal another kiss. You let her lead for a moment, and ran fingertips up the small of her back, tracing the hot skin while keeping her weight against the wall. Then, while those tiny gasps continued, you moved down her neck, kissing all the exposed skin you could find.
“Ah, that’s good, but---put me down.”
“Why?” Unfazed by the tone of voice, you continued to pepper her skin with kisses, motivated by the breathless moans she kept letting out.
“You really have to ask? Because I’m going to suck your dick, dummy.”
That sudden shift of mood could only make you grin from ear to ear. Clearly, Yujin must have been rubbing off on her, because something so blatant wasn’t like Wonyoung.
“You’re so demanding,” you said, taking one more chance to kiss and suck at her delicate neck. Biting lightly, that elicited another moan from her as her head fell back against the wall, long raven locks flowing down her shoulders.
“Do you want my mouth on your cock or not?”
“Did I say no, you fucking brat?” Pulling Wonyoung away from the wall, you set her back down in what wouldn’t fit any definition of gentle. Before you knew it, she dropped to her knees in front of you, and her hands began sliding up and down the legs of your pants.
Wonyoung looked nothing but eager on her knees as she bit on her bottom lip, and stared up through bright eyes that held lust, with her fluffy cheeks turning a lighter shade of pink. Before she did anything else, you tugged one strap of her dress as her eyes stayed stubbornly locked on yours. “Take this off first, princess.”
You weren’t so sure how compliant Wonyoung would be. The expectation would be not at all, but then she passed that first test, lowered each strap down her bare shoulders, and furled her dress down to her waist without breaking eye contact, which left her cute chest adorned by nothing but a candy pink bra.
In all of your time living together, you never saw that much of her creamy skin, usually covered up. That flat tummy, slender waist, and those small, perky tits only made you crave more, but you couldn’t let greed dictate your actions---at least not yet.
“Cute bra.”
“Thanks. But that’s all you get for now. Daddy.” The more Wonyoung used that word to annoy you, the more it seemed to fit, like it rolled off her tongue involuntarily and became less and less mocking with each usage.
Things moved too fast to comprehend. Moments ago, you were at each other’s throats, with your relationship being threatened. And now, Wonyoung proudly stayed on her knees, fingers playing with your zipper with a look of submission that promised something unforgettable. While she tugged your pants down, you saved time by discarding your shirt, smiling at how Wonyoung couldn’t take her eyes off your freshly exposed chest, palming your crotch while practically drooling over your body.
“You’re staring, princess.”
"Oh, I know," she replied, grazing your abdomen with her fingertips before kissing where she had been studying your torso, the softness of her lips on bare skin making your breath hitch. Her mouth left a trail of hot kisses along your stomach, and then licked a stripe up the crotch of your boxers just to make you twitch, building up more anticipation.
“You have such a nice body. I see why Yujin likes you so much.”
“Dashing good looks, charming personality, a high GPA, about two dozen other reasons…”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes and slipped her fingers into the waistband of your underwear, testing your patience, and didn’t dare let her eye contact drop. “Your dick is really hard, daddy. It looks so big, I can’t wait to see what Yujin has been keeping to herself.”
A quick tug later, and you were the first one naked in the open, standing in a heap of discarded clothes while your cock ached for attention. Wonyoung’s pretty eyes widened at the reveal of your cock, and she felt your erection spring to life the instant she grabbed it, forming a tight fist with all of her long, veiny fingers.
“Your dick feels so nice, daddy. You’re like, really hard. It’s like a fucking rock,” Wonyoung giggled when she stroked your length, running her icy hands across your swelling shaft, which instantly caused a bundle of soft moans at her touch. With her watching the spiraling pleasure in your eyes, every little stroke made you twitch between her nimble fingers, distracting you from anything else while she both pumped your shaft and gently caressed your balls.
“Fuck, you’re so huge. Look how small my hands look when I stroke your cock…” The way she said almost sounded like a whine, which given the source, wasn’t unexpected. As Wonyoung spent more time introducing herself to your cock, she planted a chaste kiss on your cockhead, earning herself another groan at your expense.
“I can’t believe you’ve both been hiding this dick from me.”
Wonyoung admired every aspect of your throbbing shaft, cupping your balls with her free hand while she kept a firm grip on whatever could fit in between her fingers. She tightened that grip and began to explore your length with her hungry tongue, mapping out your erection from base to tip just enough to get your cock wet, then took needy little licks against your swollen tip, claiming any drops that leaked from your slit.
“Such a beautiful cock. And now it’s all mine.’’ Then, without warning, Wonyoung parted her sultry, inviting lips, bringing your shaft into the warmth of her awaiting mouth and sealed them tight around your aching cock.
“Princess---“ you managed to groan out, toes curling into the rug underneath. The biggest spike of pleasure came when those glossy lips sealed around your cockhead, making your head tilt back in ecstasy as her warm, impatient mouth went to work. That lust-filled gaze kept you trapped as she sucked you off with her impossibly soft lips, slowly at first, drawing out every groan before bobbing her head faster, and focused on every reaction you made while her cheeks hollowed.
When Wonyoung felt your hips beginning to buck, she pulled you even further inside her throat, and her tongue began to playfully tease the underside of your shaft, driving you further down the edge of insanity. “Princess, my god---that feels incredible.”
“Of course it does. You’d think I’d ever be bad at something?” Wonyoung chuckled, flashing a confident smile as she painted your length with her tongue, then traced the veins of your shaft while enjoying the way you let out short gasps when she found your favorite spot. She flicked against it several times until returning you to her mouth, and you desperately tried to stop yourself from pushing into her throat---a losing battle before it started.
“You look so pretty sucking my dick, princess. That mouth feels---so---fucking---good,“ you groaned, and praise only had its benefits as Wonyoung reached for your balls once more, fondling them with the gentlest of touches and teased them with her slender fingers. Within moments, she found that sweet spot that you thought only Yujin knew about, which made every throb that much more overwhelming in its intensity.
“Your balls feel so heavy, daddy. Isn’t Yujin draining them enough?” Wonyoung asked, letting her enveloping lips slide with ease over your shaft, almost to the end of your base.
Quite the opposite, because while Wonyoung showered first thing in the morning, Yujin milked a massive load out of you, counting out every single time she edged you until you exploded in her hands. And then another one right before her first class, emptying you into her mouth while you ate her out.
“Do you really think that?”
“No, of course not,” Wonyoung said, shaking her head. “Pretty sure I could hear you moaning her name when I was in the shower. You’re cute when you beg.”
“I wasn’t beg---“ The warm mouth back on your cock shut you up when you hit the back of Wonyoung’s tightening throat for the first time, nearly toppling you over with pleasure. Your legs trembled as she worked her mouth with more fervor, keeping you buried down her throat just long enough to give you the satisfaction desired before coming up for air.
This girl knew just how to earn that praise. Her wet little tongue darted out from between her lips to swirl around the tip of your cock, flicking around in perfect circles around the delicate underside of your shaft, then combined it with tender kisses, soft licks, and hot breath to target that ultra-sensitive spot you knew she didn’t learn on her own. But fuck, it felt so good that you didn’t care how she found it. Not when Wonyoung kept you on edge and shifted her concentration to your balls that hadn’t been given nearly enough attention. She eagerly teased them with sloppy licks until she slipped them one at a time into her mouth, and kept a hand pumping your rock-hard cock, only to lick back up your length to swallow you up once more.
“Oh my god, princess. That pretty mouth does more than just complain,” you said, pushing your luck further than you had any right to, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wonyoung left you in the middle of the living room with your pants around your ankles. Thankfully, she didn’t, and kept the train of bliss moving, determined to coat your cock with all of her spit and lip gloss.
“What do you think Yujin would say if she saw me on my knees blowing her daddy?”
“I think she’d say you should do a better job.”
“Asshole. You really want me to stop, don’t you?”
“No, but I can tell you’re not going to with how much you’re also enjoying this.” Wonyoung really couldn’t argue with that no matter how much she wanted to, and put that energy into keeping her lips down your cock, ensuring a constant, messy trail of saliva.
“I’ll enjoy it all day if it means you stay quiet.”
If that’s all it took, then she should have offered that from the very start. Because more than you liked to admit, her mouth drove you fucking crazy, like in a way you’d drop out of university and commit crimes to get a blowjob like this. Not quite like Yujin, who had a several page long resume of blowjob techniques that involved more than just her tongue and lips, but everything Wonyoung did was more than enough to keep you from thinking straight.
Your entire body jolted after every slurp and lick, and Wonyoung took advantage of how easy it was to tease you. Her magical hands explored your body, caressing your thighs, your ass, and anywhere else she could without losing her focus.
“Hmph. You really don’t think I’m as good as Yujin?”
That jealous trait of hers always liked to creep up, because Wonyoung couldn’t stand being second best at anything. You couldn’t lie to her either, because as good as she was at devouring your cock---Yujin would always be next level.
“No. Sorry, princess, but it’s not even close.”
You could see the disappointment in Wonyoung’s face, but she instead turned that discouragement into eagerness, moving her mouth down your length to swallow every last inch up. It only proved your point when she gagged after holding your cock down her throat for far longer than she was used to.
“For starters, you’re nowhere near sloppy enough.”
Wonyoung sighed through gritted teeth as she stroked you, placing wet kisses alongside your throbbing cock. “Then help me out. Make me sloppier.”
Letting out a devilish grin that plastered your face, you leaned closer and slid your hand through her raven black hair, yanking with enough force to tilt her head back, which gave easier access to that perfect mouth.
“It would be my pleasure, princess,” you said as you leisurely stroked your cock in front of Wonyoung’s angelic face, while her big doe eyes stared longingly up at you. It was enough to make you explode just by looking at those gorgeous features.
“Daddy---“ she whined as you relieved yourself by rubbing your swollen cockhead on those full red lips, using your pre-cum as a replacement lip gloss.
“Didn’t I say you don’t get to use that?”
“But daddy likes it when I call you that, don’t you? Daddy…” Always trying to get under your skin, even in a moment like this. But unexpectedly, that one word caused more damage than you thought, and Wonyoung had grown addicted to using it already, with no any pretense or hesitation.
“Want daddy to fuck my mouth. Come on, I know you wanna shove it down my throat and shut me up. I’ve been such a naughty little brat, won’t you do something about that?”
Wonyoung leaning into her brat persona was not something you predicted, but when she put it that way, what were brats if not something to be punished? It wouldn’t hurt to oblige her, given that she wouldn’t give up until she got her way regardless, but you at least needed something in return.
“I’ll make you gag on this dick, but let me see those cute tits, princess.”
An innocent smile overtook her face as she reached behind her back to comply, tugging on the clasp of her bra, heightening your expectations. “Okay, daddy.”
This iteration of Wonyoung, in this submissive and obedient state was far superior, and you’d expect her to do what you asked at this stage, devoid of any backtalk or snarky comments.
“Daddy, your cock,” Wonyoung pleaded, eyes narrowing while she gave the full reveal of her chest, letting her breasts free as you reached forward to touch them and squeezed each, flicking both pretty nipples as they hardened underneath your fingertips.
“This was what you wanted. Now give me what I want. Give me that cock, want it to fill my little mouth.“
“I didn’t hear a please. That’s what good girls use.”
“But I’m not a good girl. So give me what I want, daddy.“
Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t resist Wonyoung anymore as she licked her lips in anticipation---how could you resist a beautiful girl on her knees, begging for your cock? When her pouty lips parted, ready to take in your cock again, you wasted no time and plunged deep down her throat, easily hitting the back of it in one swift motion.
Wonyoung immediately gagged on your length, but you didn’t allow her to adjust as you repeatedly bottomed out her throat before you pulled out, watching how her lips desperately chased your cock. “Daddy, no. Don’t hold back, I can take it. Use my mouth like a toy---please."
A request you would easily oblige, but first, you used your cock to slap her pretty face numerous times before turning her mouth into a helpless vessel for your pleasure. Indulging both of your desires, you began to slam your hips into her face with a harsh grip on her head, tangling your fingers up in her pretty locks.
“That’s it, princess, keep that fucking mouth open. You wanted daddy to fuck your throat like this, right? You wanted me to make you choke on this cock?”
She nodded best as she could, and you loved hearing her gag and struggle on your shaft, especially when her eyes begged for more as you kept the weight of your cock stuffed down Wonyoung’s throat, defiling such a pretty piece of artwork, a spoiled, rotten, defiant brat.
The entire day’s worth of frustrations channeled into your hips as you carried out your merciless facefuck, with every punishing thrust leaving your cock dripping wet with Wonyoung’s slippery drool. For once, you had peace---no complaining, no more whining, just loud gags and messy slurps filling the room.
If only Yujin could see you now---(she’d probably say you weren’t being rough enough).
Wonyoung’s divine mouth felt amazing before, but nowhere like this. It was as if her mouth was made to be used, a pretty plaything for your disposal, a sloppy wet hole designed for your pleasure that struggled to breathe. Her innocent, modelesque visuals that won the genetic lottery became sullied with saliva, ruining her perfectly applied makeup, and made its way down to her expensive necklace before sliding down her enticing cleavage.
You weren’t sure how you were ever intimidated by such a tall, leggy goddess, when all it took was a little praise and an offering between your legs for her to fold like a deck of cards. Even comical, you could call it, and you couldn’t imagine how needy she would get once you had your fingers in her cunt.
“My fucking god, Wonyoung,” you growled, palming her head tight, fucking her mouth into a frenzy of gags and spit that sent you deeper into an uncontained spiral of lust. “Your bratty fucking mouth feels too good.”
With her jaw overworked and tears streaming down her pale, flushed cheeks, Wonyoung could only respond by squeezing your thighs she held onto as you pounded into her throat relentlessly. No longer did she resemble the beautiful, innocent doll she presented herself to be, but instead a beautiful drooling mess of spit trying to fight through her gag reflex that kept your cock wet and warm.
After one more strong thrust from your hips, you held her gorgeous face down at your base, ensuring not a single inch of cock wasn’t held down her struggling throat balls deep. Your fingers dug into her scalp as her cute nose pressed against your abdomen, and you watched intently how her eyes watered more and more the longer you held her there, refusing to give a single ounce of mercy.
Wonyoung let out a gag so loud with her throat consuming your cock that you almost exploded then and there, but forced yourself to hold on. As much as you wanted, you couldn’t blow a load in her mouth without at least getting a chance to see that tight, impeccable body bare naked. Despite that, you pushed her firmly into your crotch just a little longer, making her mouth fill up with spit and her eyes water even more so until you pulled away.
When you withdrew your cock away from her wet, swollen lips, Wonyoung gasped for air as thin strings of saliva kept your shaft connected to her satisfied smile, tongue flicking at your cock with a whimper.
“Don’t stop on my account. I can take much more,” she said, those tear-filled eyes looking on with determination.
“Yeah, but---I can’t.” Wonyoung let out a giggle before grabbing your cock drenched with her saliva, and jerked you off, every pump threatening to send you past release.
“Are you going to paint my face then, daddy?” she asked, tempting fate by planting several kisses on the top of your cockhead.
“Not a chance, princess. My load belongs inside your cunt.”
Needing a moment, you stepped out of the pile of clothes underneath you and helped Wonyoung rise to her feet, taking her by the wrist to guide her towards the couch. Nothing about her resembled elegance any longer---disheveled hair, ruined makeup, and a face covered in saliva was the ideal formula to put her in her place. And all it took was a cock jammed down her throat.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” Wonyoung asked, still recuperating from having her throat fucked raw. She tried to find some comfort in your eyes, but all she saw was your stern expression, leaving her to wonder whether you would make her feel even more desperate than she already did.
“That all depends on you, princess. How about you finish taking that dress off for me?”
“Yes, daddy.” Again, Wonyoung was just concerned about following instructions at this point, and tugged that expensive dress down off her hips around her ankles, kicking it away. Your eyes watched every move she made with bated breath as she laid down on the couch, and every last inch of those slender legs that went on for days stretched across the cushions, leaving one final barricade between your desires.
“Your body is fucking perfect, princess,” you said, joining her on the couch with your eyes roaming a path of creamy skin from head to toe, and you took in the beauty of her flawless physique, unsure where was most deserving of your attention.
“Thank you, daddy. Do you want these off too?” Wonyoung asked as she slipped fingers into the waistband of her skimpy panties that matched her discarded bra.
“No, princess. That’s my job.”
Only that tiny piece of fabric separated you from seeing that tight naked body in its full splendor, but you were going to take your time savoring that reveal. Such an impeccable body like Wonyoung’s deserved to be worshiped from head to toe, so no better place to start than that as you grabbed one of her pristine feet and planted a kiss at the ball of it.
Spending as much time as you could without going overboard, you massaged her soft soles, then peppered them in kisses before you moved on to kiss her perfectly pedicured toes, each one painted with a black polish that contrasted the paleness of her skin.
“You’re kissing my feet?” Wonyoung asked, almost incredulous in her tone, but showed no signs of discomfort.
“Why wouldn’t I be? They’re very pretty. Just like the rest of you.”
“I…just didn’t know that was your thing. You know, I’ve had guys pay me to do this before. You’re much better at it.”
“Every part of you is my thing. I just wanna touch and taste your entire body.”
With a flushed glow returning back to her cheeks, you continued pressing kisses all over Wonyoung’s feet, and slid your lips into her delicate arches, not missing a spot. As you slowly worked your way up, you ran your hands up her creamy legs that could be considered a work of art on their own, and gave them the proper attention they deserved, kissing in between gentle caresses until you stopped just shy of her clothed center.
Wonyoung drew in a heavy breath as your fingers grazed over her panties, and whenever you pressed into her core, you could feel hints of wetness that she couldn’t hide. The gratification she craved wouldn’t be given easily however, and you planned on making her earn it as you gave her milky thighs a series of slow, deliberate kisses, making good on your word to taste all of her until they began to part like the gates of heaven, awaiting your touch.
You dragged out every moment, every chance to heighten Wonyoung’s arousal, which gave you all the time in the world to continue worshiping her body. One lick against the prominent damp spot at the center of her panties and she melted, begging for more when you licked a second and third time, the fabric darkening with every teasing lick.
“D-daddy,” Wonyoung gasped, but you ignored her and focused on tasting more sweet arousal through those thin panties, coming up with new ways to tease her while keeping a hand firmly stroking her soft thighs,
“Quiet, princess. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“But I want you to taste me. Need your mouth on me, daddy. Don’t tease me, I hate it.”
Wonyoung bit onto her bottom lip, knowing she made a mistake by showing too much vulnerability, which meant you would prolong her pleasure even further. Still, she didn’t seem to care, even while the wetter her pretty panties became, the more inclined you were to build up that frustration more and more.
“Needy fucking brat.”
You would tease her all day if you had to.
“Shut up, just---please.” Who could have imagined that Wonyoung would ever plead this much, and all it took was teasing your fingers dangerously close to her pussy. As much as you enjoyed encouraging the needy look on her face, you much preferred to get rid of those useless panties, so after giving them a quick tug down the never-ending runaway that made up her legs, you rewarded yourself with the priceless treasure of Wonyoung’s gorgeous, wet little pussy.
Never had you seen something so beautiful, almost as much Wonyoung herself. The exposure of her clean shaven cunt transcended your expectations, well worth every second of waiting. Her thighs led a path to nirvana that your fingertips traveled up to her wet, glistening slit, daring to slip in but backing out at the last moment.
“Your pussy is so fucking pretty, princess.”
The flustered blush on her face had never looked so vivid when you traced her folds, collecting her slick on your fingertips and kept her under your control. Wonyoung still tried to chase your fingers, displaying her desperation with her hips, while her body begged for more attention.
“Daddy, please,” she murmured, but you ignored her pleas, continuing to torment, bringing her already escalated arousal levels sky high. “Need your fingers in me. Need you to touch me, need you to taste me.”
“What’s wrong, princess?” you asked in a mocking tone. “You don’t like when daddy teases you like this?”
Wonyoung shook her head furiously at your question, but all you did was stall further to create more anticipation, letting the quiet linger, which worked wonders to turn her into a mess of frustrated desire.
“Daddy. Daddy---daddy, please.” That was all you needed to finally succumb, and slid two fingers deep inside of her hot, wet depths. Wonyoung let out a loud gasp of ecstasy, digging her nails into the fabric of the couch cushions beneath her.
With just enough room for two fingers, you pumped into her enticing wet heat and wondered how you'd ever be able to fit your cock inside of her. A good problem to have.
“Daddy!” she cried out, arching her back higher than expected, and clenched around your hilted fingers.
“Look at you, princess. So fucking wet, and all it takes is a couple fingers inside your pretty cunt for you to stop being a brat?”
You weren’t putting in the full effort to stretch her out, but you could hear how wet Wonyoung was, your fingers doused in slick within seconds as you steadily pumped inside.
“Sh-shut up, I’m not that needy.”
“Oh, really? I guess I’ll stop then.” You couldn’t help but laugh when you withdrew your fingers from her wetness, hearing cries of desperation from at the loss of your fingers that you sucked clean. “Fuck, you taste good.”
“D-daddy, no---” she said, as you made a show of slurping her juices off your fingers. “Please put your fingers back inside me. It feels good. N-need more.”
“But I thought you weren’t needy?”
“Shut up, just---please, do what you were doing.”
You should have made Wonyoung beg more given she was so adept at it before you shoved your fingers back inside her warm cunt, but it was hard to waste time on that when all you wanted was that delicious taste of hers, straight from the tap.
In no time flat, you plunged back in knuckle-deep, but didn’t dare dream of adding a third, when two fingers became a struggle as is. She groaned as her slick folds swallowed you up and emitted those sweet sounds of bliss when your fingers curled after the apex of every thrust. You couldn’t wait any longer, and made your first lick up Wonyoung's wet slit while you kept two fingers buried in her, looking up every so often to see the pure ecstasy written across her face, as you inhaled her unforgettable aroma.
“Fuck, eat me, daddy, please eat my pussy. I need that tongue, just---” Wonyoung’s pleas bordered on demand at this point, yet you were happy to oblige her, and licked long stripes up and down her pussy, savoring the unforgettable sweet taste of her cunt as you cleaned up her wet folds,
Your mouth on her wet cunt acted like a pendulum that kept her back and forth between needy and domineering, whining with one series of licks, then grabbing the back of your head with the next. Either way, you didn’t really care which side she landed on, as long as you could keep the sweet, decadent taste on your lips and you didn’t let a single part of her pussy remain unexplored.
“God, you’re so fucking delicious,” you said as you grabbed hold of her thighs to draw her lithe body closer, then flicked against her clit before sealing your lips around it just long enough to build up pleasure, until you were right back where you started, making her eager hips frantically chase your tongue.
Wonyoung tasted like the most intoxicating mix of tangy sweetness you ever had, and just a single drop of her nectar was enough to bring out the ravenous animal inside you. Insatiable for more, your tongue drowned in her sweet juices, and you drank it all up while you wandered through her drenched folds, and made sure to not let a single spot go to waste.
Once more, you aimed for her swollen clit and latched your lips around it, using as much suction as your mouth would allow, with no plans on stopping until your appetite was appeased. While you devoured Wonyoung’s juicy pussy, her long fingers tugged at your hair, returning the favor from earlier, and urged your mouth to stay on her, to maintain such harsh suction that ignited more of her cute, unceasing moans.
“Fuck, you’re good at that, keep eating my pussy,” she said, with unending demand in her voice, and you welcomed the pain that came from fingers pulling at your hair, keeping you buried between her legs. Her hips began to gyrate on your face as you kept her taste lingering on your tongue, and every lick and slurp against her needy clit brought a new set of noises, while the satisfaction multiplied on her face.
Still, you couldn’t believe how good she tasted, and how cute she sounded when you ate her out. Wonyoung’s cries became louder, much sharper, but you refused to relent, suckling on her clit with such harshness that made her thighs quiver around your head as she desperately yearned for release. You swore Wonyoung might pull out strands of your hair, though you wouldn’t care when all you could hear was her ragged breathing and needy whines from her mouth as you did everything to bring her over that edge, making her squirm underneath you, hips bucking in a pattern that followed your tongue.
“D-daddy, fuck, daddy,” Wonyoung moaned out, and when you looked up with your lips secured around her clit, you could see her pant harder and harder as you tried to expedite the inevitable.
Nothing compared to how Wonyoung looked moments before climax. Your tongue swirled and flicked over the sensitive nub, then sealed around it one more time, harshly sucking on it to bring her to that sweet, sweet nirvana.
“Gonna cum, fuck, daddy, gonna cum on your face. I’m close, so close, please don’t stop, please…“
With another deep, satisfying slurp, you had Wonyoung right where you wanted, on a road to bliss, as her hips moved like she had lost all semblance of control. Her tight frame writhed in ecstasy, and you took advantage to plunge your fingers into her slick wetness once more, giving an extra dose of bliss that fanned the unquenchable flames in her core.
“I’m gonna---”
And with that, Wonyoung would get what she wanted, what she deserved, as you helped release all that built-up tension, a giant knot untangling. Her thighs squeezed your head in an almost suffocating manner, and her pretty hands yanked at bundles of hair, making sure she had never looked so unprincess-like than in that moment. You kept your lips wrapped around Wonyoung’s clit, watching her fall apart as her delectable juices spilled into your mouth, toes curling as she came hard, eyes shutting tight with your only focus giving her the best orgasm of her life.
Wonyoung rode out her high and then some, yet even when the intensity of her trembling thighs around your head died down, you had no inclination to stop, nor could you calm your insatiable need to keep your mouth on her pretty pussy for as long as you pleased.
You’d make a mental note to get the couch deep cleaned after this.
“Daddy, please, fuck---“
Making Wonyoung cum only once wouldn’t be sufficient, so you doubled down your efforts and suckled on her clit with more ferocity, putting your all into it so much that you didn’t even hear a door being opened, or the footsteps heading towards your way.
“I’m back home, oh.”
Neither of you gave the friendly figure that entered the living room a passing glance, too caught up in the moment of bliss, too involved with feasting on Wonyoung, drawing out more of that delicious nectar that already stained your lips and chin.
“Well, well, well. Looks like you two made up.” Yujin didn’t even flinch at the sight of clothes sprawled on the floor, or her two roommates naked on the couch with your tongue buried inside Wonyoung’s cunt.
“How was class?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You weren’t actually seeking an answer, annoyed at having your focus broken before you returned your attention back to overstimulating Wonyoung, thrusting your fingers inside at the same rough pace that matched your tongue.
“Class? Oh right, my class. I really learned a lot,” Yujin said, still keeping up her facade. Now wasn’t the time to question her motives, and if anything, you’d thank her later for giving you a chance to rectify things. If not for her, you wouldn’t have your face covered in Wonyoung.
“You two look busy, so I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Yujin scurried off with that puppy-like smile, nothing but a momentary distraction while you got back to work.
That blissful state didn't take long to return to when Wonyoung squirmed underneath your face, moaning incoherently as you brought her to a second devastating orgasm with ease. Like previously, when your mouth locked on her clit, her toes curled once again, and you lapped up her delicious juices as your mouth filled back up with her rich taste. You refused to stop devouring Wonyoung’s pussy, not until she rode out her second high, and only then did you give your lips a break,
instead giving your fingers a workout, a routine of unyielding pleasure that there wasn’t any escape from.
“T-too much, daddy! P-please, fuck, fuck---I'm so sensitive, I can't," Wonyoung begged you to stop, but you disregarded every word she said, concentrating solely on getting her to cum on your fingers this time.
“I don’t care. You can, cum again on my fingers and then I’ll fuck you.” A rare silence from Wonyoung that you’d savor, listening to only her whimpering moans and the sounds of her drenched cunt as you kept her filled with your fingers. Finding her sweet spot with such precision, it took only a matter of moments until she fell apart again, shuddering even more uncontrollably.
“C-cumming again, daddy, fuck!”
Looking on with pride, you brought Wonyoung to orgasm a third time, with her back arched high, head thrown back, and a different picture painted every time she came that you’d never be able to get it out of your head. You loved hearing the cries of pleasure she made as your fingers pumped into her wetness, taking advantage of all that sensitivity that made her pussy ache, unable to handle the overstimulation, but still dripped in a way that absolutely ruined the couch cushions.
“Oh god, daddy, no more. Please, no more, I c-can’t, I-I,” she whimpered with tears in her eyes, body shaking as your fingers kept pounding into her wet walls. You pulled away once you were satisfied, licking her folds clean and fluttered over her clit for one extra moment. As tempting as it would be to finger her to a fourth orgasm, it was time for your cock to get some much needed attention.
Pulling yourself up into the cushions for a more comfortable position, you didn’t even bother cleaning your slick covered fingers, admiring the breathtaking view that was her wet entrance, ready to claim your ultimate prize.
Wonyoung looked like a doll with her legs spread wide, so vulnerable and exposed as her small chest heaved while she recovered from her relentless orgasms. Her gorgeous bare pussy glistened, every bit of supple, warm flesh more than ready for your cock, and the notion of stretching her out set off every little twitch in your shaft.
When you lined up with her inviting entrance, there was a much needed moment of hesitation as you let the anticipation build much more than necessary. But when you rubbed your cockhead between her wet pussy lips, any urge to tease disappeared, heightening your arousal to unbearable levels.
“Put it inside me. Need it, want you to fuck me so bad,” Wonyoung begged once more, and you didn’t even make her wait any longer. One look into her eyes later, and you eased inside her slick pussy, letting out a guttural groan that wasn’t even recognizable. Despite all your expectations, the initial thrusts into her warm cunt squeezed your cock harder than you were prepared for, nearly making you double over.
Your hands gripped her tiny little waist, watching for every reaction while you plunged into her suffocating cunt that felt unlike anything else before. Wonyoung was a popular girl for sure, so this wouldn’t be her first time, as evidenced by how many times you heard her getting railed in her bedroom that you lost track, but god, it certainly felt like it.
After a considerable amount of thrusts inside that dripping heat that enveloped your cock, Wonyoung stayed unbearably tight. Your efforts did little to stretch her little pussy, and it seemed impossible to pull your shaft from her cunt whenever you pumped inside her clinging walls. You took it as a challenge to bottom her out, though it resulted in an almost instant failure, met with a harsh resistance gripping your cock that only added to your determination.
“Princess, I can barely fit inside you,” you said, making more lustful moans escape Wonyoung’s lips while you tried your hardest to fill her with your whole length. You had her stunning face cupped like you were holding onto some type of rare artifact one might be scared to drop, staring at those pretty eyes, and her pretty plump lips that let out a constant flurry of moans and gasps whenever you pulled out and sank back inside her incredible warmth.
“More, daddy.”
“More what, princess?”
“Want more of you. You feel so good inside me already, want more of that cock,” she said, and it put a smile on your features to turn Wonyoung into such a needy, insatiable girl, no longer capable of being coy with her words. With every dip inside her smothering heat, you could sense more desperation, how much she yearned to be stretched to the maximum and feel your entire length in her.
“Fuck me, daddy. You know I’m not a good girl, so don’t fuck me like one.”
Your hips sped up with that request, and Wonyoung adjusted to your pace as her wet, warm walls became easier and easier to fill up, further opening her up. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you? A spoiled little brat that takes this cock so well.”
“Spoiled for your cock. So just shut up and fuck me. Make me feel you in my guts.”
While you kept her sparkling eyes in line of sight, you pressed your forehead against hers, seeing the lust building that raced through her body as you pumped into her hard and fast, giving the intense gratification she craved.
“Daddy---“ she gasped out, one little word from that pretty voice held so much power, so much weight. “Deeper, daddy. Fuck me, deeper. You feel so big, stretch my tight little pussy. Need you to fill me with every inch.”
And if that wasn’t encouragement enough, Wonyoung started to wrap her absurdly long legs around your waist to draw you in deeper, clutching onto one of your biceps, and her skin felt so utterly hot against yours. “Ruin me, daddy. Come on, I can take it. Fuck the brat out of me.”
Even at her most desperate moments, she still had some dominance left in her words, but you had no qualms not to listen. Because while Wonyoung might have looked like something precious and priceless, you certainly wouldn’t treat her as such. So little by little, your hips snapped back, until you were fucking her like you should have done from the start.
Making every thrust count, you were finally able to fuck Wonyoung balls deep, and took advantage of the slickness from every orgasm as your cock slid inside her effortlessly.
“Fuck, daddy, yes!“ Wonyoung cried out, her walls trembling whenever you bottomed her out, which only added to the urges to seize complete control of her body. You dove into her neck, and could hear her breathing deepen as you tasted the hot skin found there, before tracing the outline of her jaw, which made her even more consumed by your lustful touches.
Now that you could comfortably bury your cock to the hilt inside her warmth without struggle, Wonyoung felt so utterly wet and unimaginably tight, while all that built up arousal drowning your cock really paid off, because now you were fucking her as deep as you wanted, rearranging her guts like no tomorrow.
“You’re so fucking deep, keep that up. Want you to keep fucking me like this, please---don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Wonyoung repeated, becoming more desperate by the syllable while you continued to feast on her body, eager to lick up all that porcelain skin. You couldn’t ignore your cravings and dragged your tongue across her sensitive neck, enjoying the way she moaned when you sucked on the delicate flesh before you moved to trace her earlobe, then nibbled on it, working her more into a frenzy.
“I need to taste all of you, princess," you said as you licked down her collarbone and down to the curve of her breasts, then climbed back up, lifted her slender arms, and buried your tongue in her armpit. You savored the taste as you greedily licked her up, tracing the surface to gather up Wonyoung’s delectable sweat, only rewarded with deeper moans while your tongue went wild. The salty taste of her skin tasted even better there, and to no surprise, it only added more to her arousal as you cleaned her up throughly, licking long stripes up one of your new favorite spots of her goddess-like body to devour.
“You’re so delicious, princess. I could just taste every inch of you for hours.”
Her cheeks reddened once more, and you were careful not to miss a solitary inch. Wonyoung kept her arms stretched up over her head, distracting you from the intense wetness and tightness of her cunt while you licked and sucked away at her flawless armpit, slobbering over it without respite.
Wonyoung gave no signs of anything but enjoyment of your tongue bath, even more so when you switched sides to devour her other smooth, milky underarm, as you peppered the flesh with little ticklish kisses, then gave an equal amount of wet, hungry licks. Truly a feast on their own, you lapped up the soft skin of her pits, nuzzling your nose in them to breathe in the unforgettable aroma. Your devotion to her body only made her squirm and whimper more, which only urged you to keep feasting on her delicious armpits, swapping your attention between the two, as you wanted as many different regions of her body on your tongue as possible.
Only after you thoroughly slathered both in saliva did you have your fill, and gave both one last lick while watching the aroused reaction in her eyes.
“D-daddy,” Wonyoung murmured, shaky and subdued, like she could barely pull the word out of her throat while your hips kept her pressed into the couch.
“Yes, princess?” you asked, planting rough kisses all over the untouched side of her neck that made her blush even deeper.
“Bedroom. Take me there.”
“Which one?”
“Don’t care.”
There was only one actual option, given that your bedroom involved a set of stairs and Wonyoung’s was just down the hall, so the choice was obvious. Although you’d love to see the look on Yujin’s face when you barged into her room, wanting to use her luxurious bed to plow her roommate on. Most likely, you’d be met with encouragement rather than being told to get out, but even then, you didn’t want to take the chance of disturbing her.
So down the hallway it was, catching Wonyoung off guard as you lifted her petite figure off the couch and into your arms as your cock remained buried inside. With her legs already locked around you tightly, her arms followed, wrapping around the back of your neck as you brought her towards the bedroom. Not wasting any chance to keep her bouncing on your shaft, you squeezed that tight little ass with every step, until you made it past the open bedroom door that neither of you bothered to fully close.
When you entered Wonyoung’s spacious bedroom, you had only one thing on your mind---the tight grip her slick pussy held around your cock. Now that all concerns had been set aside, you came close to knocking a framed poster off the wall with the force generated when you pinned her against it. But outside of moaning daddy uninterrupted, she became unable to concentrate on anything else but clinging to your body as you drilled her without zero intentions of slowing down.
Being careful wasn’t an option anymore. Wonyoung had you all wrapped up, with those long limbs coiled around you like a snake, but yet she was the prey. You kept her pinned up against the bedroom wall like a museum painting, and each thrust nailed her harder, keeping her begging for more, keeping her creaming on your cock as you rammed your length into the deepest parts of her cunt in succession, showing no mercy.
“Your pussy just feels incredible, princess,” you growled, as your fingers kneaded her asscheeks between each thrust, using the wall as a partner to help pound away and put this needy little princess in her place, fucking her harder than imaginable, knowing she could take it. Her back arched higher while every stroke intensified, and she used her moans to voice the insatiable hunger you could see in her eyes while you gave it your all.
“God, your cock---makes me feel so good, stretches me so well, it’s fucking perfect,” she said, as you shoved your hard cock into her without a care. You knew Wonyoung could take it, she could take every rough thrust, and she’d complain if you did anything less.
So your battering cock continued its assault on her warm little hole, pumping inside her while being squeezed so goddamn tight it drove you absolutely crazy, all part of the plan to ruin her perfect cunt the way she begged and begged for it.
"Daddy, fuck me, fuck me!" Wonyoung begged, but did nothing to silence herself, the repeated thuds her sweaty back made against the wall surely moving its way up the entire house. Without saying another word, you had her cumming on your cock, that slick honey dripping between her legs adding more fuel to your hips as you fucked her into a second, then a third orgasm, arms tightening while she held on for dear life, legs trembling underneath your fingers. “Oh my god, daddy.”
Like a delicate flower no more, Wonyoung endured your rough treatment with pride, and embraced the way you manhandled her body. With every pump of your cock into that engulfing wet heat, her cries of satisfaction grew deafeningly loud, and she became almost delirious from bliss, unable to keep her eyes open much longer. Not a single ounce of smugness remained left on her face, just pure desire and barrels of lust that increased the harder you fucked your aggression out, letting her ride through climax after climax until the harsh clenches became borderline unbearable to handle.
And you couldn’t help but be selfish, turning Wonyoung into an absolute mess, with no genuine need to use words anymore or anything but hot, needy kisses that did all the talking necessary as you absorbed yourself in the vigorous use of her body.
After every vigorous thrust, you could feel her hot breath in your ear, along with every whiny moan and desperate plea for you to fuck her even beyond your own limits. You poured your attention into how your cock felt whenever you speared her warm little cunt, and dug fingers deeper into the creamy flesh of her ass. But that wasn’t enough, as you spread her legs wider to take every inch of your cock deeper than you thought possible, all while every little gasp, moan, and repetitive thump of her back crashing against the wall became an intricate melody in your ears.
“Princess---“ you said, your voice lowering into nothing but a growl and drew another deep moan from Wonyoung’s lips following one more strong impale, then pulled her away from the wall as you held her up in the air, fucking her relentlessly while you enjoyed the overpowering smack of flesh on flesh by pounding into her desperate cunt.
“Need to fucking cum in you soon. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy all the way up.”
Waiting for a response wasn’t something you bothered with when you approached the side of Wonyoung’s enormous canopy bed with its pulled back curtains and abundant pillows, only fucking her petite body harder on your thick cock to elicit out more cries of nonstop pleasure.
From the start, the plan was always to defile her doll-like body, and while the idea of pounding her on the carpet with a fistful of hair crossed your mind---you’d have to tear your cock away for just a moment---an impossible task.
Overindulgent was the only thing that could describe how you were fucking Wonyoung, and even more overindulgent was how much she kept creaming on your cock. But you had no trouble keeping the motions uninterrupted, nor did you have any trouble supporting her weight, remaining face to face to kiss her lips as many times as you chose to until you laid her down onto the soft mattress in a not-so-gentle manner.
“W-wait,” Wonyoung said, before words turned back into moans once more. “You can cum inside me, but not here. Don’t ruin the sheets.”
You could barely mutter out a chuckle. “You can buy more, princess.”
“But I like thes---“
You didn’t allow any further objections. Instead, with your knees locked into the mattress, you drove Wonyoung’s legs up into the air until they neared both shoulders, feet left dangling, and folded her up like a chair, eager to sink in at a completely new intense angle. “You’re gonna need a whole new bed when I’m done with you.”
Now that you achieved the deepest penetration possible, you were testing the springs of her mattress without even giving a chance for her heart to beat, bottoming Wonyoung out into new depths never felt before. All that elegance shattered, left with nothing but the obscene view of those beautiful legs spread open so fucking wide you couldn’t believe this was the same proper girl you shared a roof with for months. Restraint lost every ounce of meaning when you kept up the relentless plunges into Wonyoung’s tight, tight cunt, pounding her into the mattress hard enough to make the creaking bed frame think twice about its existence.
“Daddy!” Wonyoung cried out, loud enough to echo throughout the entire house, no longer giving a damn about the soon-to-be-ruined sheets, just like that wet hot pussy that your cock pistoned into and demanded more unearthed pleasure from.
Taking full advantage of putting Wonyoung into this new position, you made a slight adjustment, lifted yourself into a squat in order to gain more leverage, then planted both feet on her silk sheets, holding her little waist with a bruising grip while fucking her so deep you were liable to explode at any second.
“God, princess, you take daddy’s cock so well. Such a good little fuckdoll, letting me use you, letting me destroy your warm little hole like this. Gonna fill you up so much, fuck!” You couldn’t help but let out loud, guttural groans at how good Wonyoung’s dripping pussy felt, throbbing wildly at how goddamn tight she clenched around your cock that ached for release.
“You feel so good inside me, so, so good, daddy. Can’t wait for you to cum in me. It’s going to feel so good, so warm. Just pump that hot load into my wet little pussy. Give me all your cum, give it all to me. Please, daddy---I need it right fucking now.”
Your heavy balls slapped against her puckered hole as you brutally impaled her pussy, and you could feel every little tremble in her legs, every last wet squelch as you kept Wonyoung pinned to the creaking mattress, making her desperate for one more greedy orgasm even before you even achieved your first.
“Fuck, fuck, princess, your pussy is just too good. You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Need to fucking breed you, need to just fuck my thick load into your womb and you’re gonna take it all, princess.”
“Yes, daddy, please! Fuck me, use me until you cum. Need your balls drained inside me, need you to explode.”
Scrambling for anything within reach, Wonyoung frantically dug her nails into her sheets, but you just kept plowing her into the mattress for as long as your body would allow, hitting her guts every single time with surgical precision. Her slick pussy lips gripped with violent, almost painful clenches, and the lewd expression etched on her face helped the inevitable arrive faster than expected.
Only a matter of time before you filled that perfect, warm little hole you mercilessly slammed your cock into, letting out more ragged breaths by the second. You kept your weight shifted to easily balance on the balls of your feet, and just stared at the deep pools of lust in Wonyoung’s eyes while she took it all, legs spread perfectly for breeding, anticipating your load with endless amounts of lust, begging, and cries for more.
“Daddy, breed me. Breed me like you breed Yujin. Empty those balls in me, fill me up. Daddy, please---just use me to dump your cum in, wanna feel it all in my pussy, please.”
The coils of her mattress screamed for relief, and the smack of your thrusts became deafening, mirroring the cries that escaped Wonyoung's mouth. No longer did you even bother to look forward, and instead guided your focus on how your cock pulverized Wonyoung’s insides, every strong clench a shove towards the finish line that she already had a rolling start towards. Your worn out hips were on fire, but it paled in comparison to the flames in your core, only able to be doused in one matter---and Wonyoung did just that when her wrecked cunt squeezed your cock in just the right way.
You throbbed inside Wonyoung like you hadn’t been drained in a month. With your entire length buried to the hilt and your balls firmly flush against her ass, you shared that final moment of relief, spilling cum into her pussy like you never had anyone else. Thick, hot spurts overflowed her cunt, setting off violent twitches, satisfied groans, and gasps of relief from your lips when you emptied every last drop into Wonyoung.
“Daddy, it feels so good. Empty it all, daddy, empty that cum inside me. It’s so warm, so thick, I can feel it dripping out of me, don’t stop…”
The tired demands from Wonyoung’s lips had you throbbing even more as you drove your creamy load deeper inside her, thrusting with your heavy hips with whatever energy left while you rode out the best orgasm of your life.
Nothing could compare to such bliss in its sweetest, purest, rawest form. Nor could anything compare to the satisfied smile Wonyoung gave when you pulled out, and your seed spilled down her sweaty thighs, making one more final attempt to ruin her sheets.
“No, daddy,” she whispered, making exhausted gasps while you took her small face in your hands, without enough energy to do anything but stare at the blissed out look in her eyes. When you collapsed, Wonyoung pivoted her body to the side, then grabbed your cock and guided it back inside her intense heat. “Keep it in me. Isn’t this what Yujin likes?”
You twitched the moment you felt that warmth wrapped around your shaft again, but embraced her naked body, resting your head against her bare shoulder. Trying not to make any sudden movements proved difficult.
“There we go, daddy. Stay inside me, just like this.”
“Didn’t you have to study?” you asked, remembering the thread that unraveled and started all this.
“What did I say? Stay inside me.”
“Fine, but don’t move too much. It’s still sensitive.”
Without even looking, you could see the smirk on Wonyoung’s lips as she did the opposite and rolled her hips, clenching around your cock to keep you from softening.
“Wonyoung---“ you hissed, and harshly dug your fingers into her hips to keep her from moving. “Stay. Still.”
“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out again? Pump another thick load in me?”
“You think this is going to happen more than once? Not a chance, princess. I’m only staying here to stop that bratty mouth from talking.”
“You’re a bad liar, daddy. I know you love how my pussy keeps your cock all nice and warm. You’re addicted to it already. I bet you won’t even go back to Yujin anymore.”
“I think I fucked you a little too hard. Maybe knocked a few brain cells out.”
“Don’t worry, daddy. I won’t say a word. I’ll keep it our little secret that you like my pussy better.”
“Shut---up. Next time I fuck you it’s going up your ass.”
“Is that a promise? I’ve never done that before. But your cock is so big, I don’t even think it’ll fit there…”
“Then I’ll make it fit.”
And with that, Wonyoung grabbed your arm to swing it around her waist, finally letting you enjoy the sweet sounds of silence.
At least for a little bit.
---------------------------
A/N: I dedicate my first Wonyoung fic to the great, amazing, wonderful @friskyriskywhisky . Didn't plan on taking so long to put out a new fic, nor did I plan on it being absurdly long. My longest fic to date, but I put a lot of heart into this and hopefully it shows.
During the course of these few months I've reached 12k followers which is still wild to me after all this time, so thanks to everyone who follows and reads, especially if you've been there since the beginning 💞💞
This was supposed to be out on the 31st for Wony day but I'm impatient, so enjoy this early gift. I've really enjoyed writing this version of Wonyoung and plan to do more with her.
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makeyoumine69 · 8 months
Text
Morning sex with Patrick | NSFW HEADCANON
— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
— A/N: That was very sudden, but I hope you like it. Many thanks to @sleeplessphantom for inspiration and @optional for the amazing gifs!😍
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓
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It was no secret that Patrick's sex drive was quite high, so even if he fucked you before you went to sleep, it didn't mean he wouldn't fuck you again in the morning. Especially if you acted like a brat all day.
If Bateman woke up early, you were already in trouble, because his big palms would find their way under your clothes before you could even notice. Inch by inch he would explore your tender skin, enjoying the way your body would react to his small, innocent touches, making his cock harder than ever.
Patrick would play with your breasts, rolling your taut nipples between his skillful fingers as he turned on his side, pulling you closer to his body so you could not escape what was to come. Elated, Bateman would greedily take your little tip in his mouth, closing his eyes in sweet pleasure as you knit your beautiful eyebrows, by this time you would be so fucking wet and he would make sure to check it.
"Mmmhm," you mewled as you felt his hot breath on your belly as he descended upon you. "Pat… Patty!"
"Yes, babydoll," he growled back in a raspy voice, kissing your inner thigh as he caressed another. "I'm here and I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."
Slowly you opened your eyes to see the sun reflecting off his beautiful hair, giving it a golden hue, while Bateman was already settling between your legs.
The burning sensation of his hot tongue on your sensitive clit made you almost bite the pillow — every time he did it felt like the first time, it was overwhelming and astonishing because he knew what he was doing. He always did.
"Aww—Daddy," you arched your back and buckled your legs up to his face as he lapped at your juicy pussy, holding you wide open for his thirsty mouth. "So good, it f-feels so good!"
Throwing your head back, you crumpled the blankets underneath you from the pulsating tension in your lower belly as Patrick was literally devouring your warm body, not forgetting to make lewd noises that drove you crazy. But as soon as he felt you begin to convulse, he stopped everything and pulled away from your heated slit, forcing a sad gasp from your rapidly breathing chest.
"Patrick?" You leaned up on your elbows to look down at him, but at the same moment he deftly grabbed your hand to wrap it around his engorged length. With each stroke, Bateman's panting grew louder and soon he was closing his eyes in pleasure, tilting his head and letting go of your hand as he allowed you to take control of the pace.
"Such a good little girl," he groaned passionately before lying down next to you and placing his hand where his mouth had been a few minutes ago. "Today I wanna see you bouncing on my cock."
His words, along with the circular rubbing movements around your swollen bud, made you whimper and encouraged you to jerk him faster. For a brief moment, the two of you would look into each other's eyes, blurry with intoxicating desire, as your hands were giving too much pleasure by playing with needy, hot flesh.
Soon you would be hopping on top of him, wailing pitifully as his beefy dick rammed into you from below, his firm hips giving you no rest.
"Daddy! You're s-so big!" Shaking, you cried out with your eyes closed as his strong arms pinned you down on his thick cock, slapping your ass from time to time when you dared to slow down just a tiny bit.
"Argh—yeah, just like that," he praised you, admiring the view of your bouncing breasts as you did your best to ride him hard, no matter how painful it was for your little hole - his veiny shaft tore you from the inside. "Use my cock... mhmm... use my cock like a dirty slut you are!"
Whimpering, you leaned on his buffed torso, speeding up and letting yourself get lost in the fire of passion, the curve of his dick hitting all the right spots and the angle of penetration was so sick — you had no choice but to cum hard around him, squeezing his pulsating cock so vividly.
"Mmhm! I'm so... SO CLOSE... AWW!"
"Jeez, your greedy pussy is clinging to me so fucking tight!" Bateman grunted, forcing you to sprawl across his chest as he fucked you senselessly, his strong arms giving you no chance to move.
You fell over the edge, feeling the waves of pleasure hit every part of your body like an electric shock. Patrick had to thrust harder to break through the grip of your pussy, soon he would join you in the ocean of bliss, spending his warm seed in your womb until it began to flow down.
And only after some time, when you both had recovered your breath, would Bateman cradle your face and bring you closer to kiss you gently on the lips, murmuring: "That's what I call a 'good morning.'"
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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uzubebe · 5 months
Text
purgatory
type: one shot
pairings: dean winchester x fem!reader (mutual pining, friends to lovers?), sam winchester x fem!reader (estranged besties)
disclaimer: i don’t write often, but i’ve been rewatching supernatural and i have so many idea. this may not be the best, but just some self indulgence. i love sammy with my whole heart but he needed to be told off ok.
summary: the dick was dead. dean and cas were gone. and you didn’t rest a wink while searching for them. unfortunately it turns out dean wasn’t the only one sam abandoned that year.
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“cmon there has the be something” you sighed, aimlessly scrolling through 14 open tabs on your laptop and a pile of messy papers scattered across the motel table. you slammed your hands on the table in frustration, letting out a shaky breath and gripping your fists tight.
it had been a year. an entire year without dean winchester. the second he vanished you had delved into aimless research in a desperate attempt to find him. you had to busy yourself, because thinking about his absence for too long caused an indescribable pain to open up in your chest.
you had only broken down three times in your year long search, which you figured was a record for someone going through what you were. you’d spent countless nights crying yourself into restless sleep, sleep filled with dreams and nightmares about the eldest winchester.
you crammed your hands to your tired eyes in a hurry, shaking your head vigorously in an attempt to wake yourself. you had to focus because you sure as hell knew sam wasn’t doing anything about it.
after deans disappearance sam explained that he needed time and space, which you understood. you cared for him just as much as you cared for his eldest brother. he had been your best friend for as long as you could remeber. and this was his brother, someone he didn’t want to learn how to live without.
you didn’t realize that time and space meant him also disappearing for an entire year with zero contact. you tried to understand him in the beginning, tried to rationalize why he would leave with no warning or explanation, because there had to be one right ? after four months you decided he wasn’t coming back and it was your job to find his brother.
you felt tears well in the corners on your eyes, inhaling a sharp breath and stretching your arms to regain your composure, gearing up for more research instead of dwelling on the loneliness.
you were pulled from your thoughts as your phone began vibrating vigorously from your bag. you quickly pulled yourself from the chair, feeling your body creak, this year had aged you in more ways than one.
you pulled your phone from the bag and froze. you narrowed your eyes, studying the caller id in absolute astonishment.
dean winchester.
you scoffed in disbelief, settling on the first emotion that bumbled up your throat, anger. you quickly hit the answer button.
“listen, i don’t know who the fuck this is. but lose this fucking number, i don’t have time for prank-“ you started spitting vigorously into the phone, being cut off at the gruff laugh that echoed through the speaker.
“…dean?” you whispered. it couldn’t be. how was he calling you?
“yeah, y/n. it’s me” he said softly, this time the tears came pouring out without warning, you let out a sad sob mixed with some kind of laugh.
“where are you? please tell me where you are.” you begged, he quickly gave you his address and within second you were tumbling into your car and speeding to him.
-
once arriving you let out a sigh, mentally preparing yourself for something you had been longing for for the last year. after 2-3 seconds of this you decided you couldn’t wait a second longer. you barreled out of the car and began your search for their motel room, suddenly turning into an olympic runner as you looked at each room number. you breath hitched in your chest as you finally arrived in front of the door. you knocked briefly before swiftly barreling into the room. nothing could’ve stopped you from getting inside that room, and there was no time for pleasantries and manners.
“dean!?” you screeched, scanning the room. your eyes landed on him as he stood from the motel bed to greet you, a sense of overwhelming relief washed over you as you ran to him.
within second you were in his arm, tears flooding your eyes as you buried your head into his chest. you felt an arm tighten around you waist, as he cradled the back of your head with his free hand.
“shh, it’s okay y/n. i’m here. i’ve got you.” he whispered, trying to calm you from the heartbreaking sobs escaping your chest. you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him as close as you could, fearing that if you let go he may disappear once again. after what felt like hours and finally realizing that this was real, you slowly pulled for him allowing him a minute to truly study your appearance.
you looked exhausted. your hair that had been previously above your shoulders now hanging loosely below your shoulder blades, tangled and messy. the bags under your eyes had grown, and you looked like you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in ages.
“y/n…what happened? are you okay?” he asked, concern flooding into his pretty green eyes. you let out a laugh and wiped your nose. you moved from him slightly, opting to grip one of his hands to keep yourself grounded.
“uh..you happened. i’ve been looking in every nook and cranny in this god forsaken country trying to find you.” you explained, sending him a melancholy smile. he studied you, pulling you to him and setting a soft kiss to your forehead.
“thank you. i’m sorry. i wish i could’ve been here.” he whispered, setting his forehead to yours. you closed your eyes, smiling softly.
“you’re here now.” you realized, letting out a breath that it felt like you had been holding for the past year. it felt like you had been suffocating all this time, and seeing him finally allowed you to breath properly again. you were basking in this feeling, inhaling the fresh oxygen that would only be provided by the presence of dean winchester.
you were trapped in your thoughts, that was until you heard a slight cough from behind dean, interrupting your moment.
“if you’re going to say something. don’t.” you demanded moving from dean, and seeing his younger brother sitting awkwardly on the bed behind him.
“listen-“ sam began, but you quickly cut him on, shaking your head as you moved further into his view.
“no sam. i don’t have to listen. you left. crowley told you that you were on your own and you just took his fucking word and ran with it. i was here. i was here the entire time and you just left ! so you don’t get to tell me to “listen.” not when i spent the last year destroying myself to find your brother, while you went off and got a fucking dog.” you spat, sam straightened up slightly, fidgeting with his hands. you were shaking uncontrollably, the prior moment of bliss was being overpowered by the rage and loneliness you had kept locked up throughout the last year.
“how do you…?” he asked, trailing off as he tried to gain the courage to meet your eyes again. you let out a cynical laugh, balling your hands into a tight fist.
“yeah. i looked for you. i was concerned. i needed to make sure you were okay. but you’ll never guess what i found. to my pleasant surprise i saw you playing house with a pretty brunette and friendly little dog. so you’ll have to give me a lot more than a sob story about how you couldn’t handle dean being gone for me to ever forgive you.” you said, moving closer to sam. he hadn’t ever seen you this way, so angry. he had to admit he was slightly unnerved and almost scared.
“because you know who else couldn’t handle it ? me. but i didn’t just lose dean, i lost you too. i called you daily for weeks, desperate for some kind of explanation. i was going out of my mind, alone in dingy motel rooms without the two people i needed most. and then, after a few months, i couldn’t even get your voicemail, just an automated voice telling me i was desperately trying to reach a disconnected number.” you were seething. you felt like every vessel pumping your blood was boiling, your raging heartbeat pounding in your ears, you thought you might pass out.
“so i don’t want to hear about how there was “a girl.” because there was a girl here the whole goddamn time. a girl who had been by your side for years. and you. still. left.” you continued, sam found himself staring at the floor, studying its pattern, because he couldn’t take the look of absolute betrayal that consumed your eyes.
“and guess what ? i didn’t get the fairytale year you had. because my person, the one i wanted to be with. the one i wanted to settle down and get a fucking dog with, was gone!” sam flinched at your tone. by the end of it, you found yourself screaming, throat feeling hoarse as you finally took a breath.
you calmed instantly as you felt deans hand reach for yours. you inhaled a deep breath and turned to him. not even realizing you had practically confessed to the years of pent of feelings you had for the man.
“y/n. i understand. really, i’m upset too. angry even. but let’s take a breather, yeah? you need a good meal, and an even better nap. why don’t we get out of here, give each other some space, regroup later?” dean suggested. you hadn’t noticed his watery eyes and unsteady voice. he was brought almost to tears at the state you were in, at what his absence had caused. you nodded slowly moving closer to him. sam slowly stood up.
“just call me when you guys are ready. y/n…i’m sorry. i really am.” he whispered, you didn’t turn around to look at him. you knew yourself well enough to know that those puppy dog eyes would make you feel insurmountable guilt, they always had. but you didn’t regret what you had said, it was the truth. and right now, you weren’t sure what could help you forgive your former best friend.
dean gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. he looked back to sam and sent him a sad smile as he led you out of the motel room.
he stopped and turned to you once the door clicked shut. he studied you, narrowing his eyes as you suddenly became incredibly fascinated with the small rock next to your left foot. you forgot what it felt like to have him watching you so intensely.
“where were you?” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze, relief washing over you instantly, he was here. he was real.
“uh…purgatory. guess standing to close to dick when he died gave me a one way ticket to his afterlife.” dean explained, you scoffed slightly, mentally punching yourself at the realization.
“fucking purgatory. of course. i should’ve figured that out. god.” you cursed yourself, how could you have been so stupid ? of course he was in fucking purgatory. dean picked up on the fact that you were internally blaming yourself for his disappearance and immediately took action.
“hey. hey.” he whispered, settings his hands on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him. he bent down to your level, a stern look on his face.
“do not, for one second, blame yourself. none of this was your fault, and you’ve done more than i could’ve ever anticipated. i know it was a hard, even excruciating year, but i’m here now. and i’m not going anywhere.” dean insisted, you studied the look in his eyes. it was one you hadn’t seen from him before, or maybe it had been so long that you just needed to re-educate yourself on his mannerisms.
“okay. thank you.” you whispered, setting one of your hands atop his. he scoffed slightly at you thanking him, when they should’ve all been thanking you.
“cmon, let’s get you something to eat sweetheart.” dean smiled, moving to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and walking you towards the car. you nuzzled into his side, wrapping your arms instinctively around his waist.
“think i made sam cry.” you scoffed slightly, replaying the intense speech you shoved down sam’s throat.
“yeah well i’m thinking maybe he needed to hear it.” dean stated, you let out a sigh and nodded.
“and for the record, i would’ve really liked it. settling down and getting a dog with you. i wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.” dean declared, setting his lips to the top of your head, feeling him slightly smile into your hair. you’re smile grew, it felt like your heart was finally beating normally again. you dug your head further into his side in embarrassment.
“well i guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.” you whispered, giving deans waist a reassuring squeeze.
“great plan, so we thinking doberman? golden retriever? maybe something small like a chihuahua or something?” dean joked, pulled you tighter into his chest with a laugh.
“shut up” you giggled, punching his chest playfully, sending him a big grin as he continued to chuckle. and since being back, dean felt okay again, at least for that moment. cause the two of you were together once again, and he had the ability to make you smile like that. he wanted to do it for the rest of his life.
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feirceangel · 8 months
Text
Imagine | Saved (Sanji)
Imagine being attacked by a bandit and begging a stranger for help.
Word Count: 1470
Warnings: hurt/comfort
(Not my gif!)
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~
Another kick was aimed at your stomach, stars splattering across your vision as you wheeze with pain.
“Learned your lesson yet, bitch?!” The bandit screams as he levels another kick, this time aimed at your back. “This’ll teach ya to talk back!”
You try to fight back tears at the onslaught of kicks but the pain is unlike any you’ve felt before.
All you had done was tell the man to stop harassing some kids who were playing in the street. They weren’t hurting anyone by playing outside, but this ruffian had taken offence when their ball rolled too close to him.
Instinct had taken over before you could think rationally, and you leapt out in front of the children. Hands splayed wide, you demanded that he leave the kids alone.
He obviously didn’t care for that.
And now here you are, splayed on the dirt, crying hot tears as waves of pain wrack your body.
Some of the townsfolk are watching on the sidelines, too afraid to move.
You meet their eyes, silently begging for help. They glance away. The people you’ve known for years and years, who you’ve helped countless times, they look away from your suffering.
That is enough to break your heart as the bandit breaks your body with another swift kick.
Struggling, you slowly start to crawl away. You’re determined to at least try and escape. The odds may be against you but that doesn’t mean you can give up.
Dirt scrapes your chin as you use your sore arms to drag yourself away from your attacker. He laughs at you pathetic attempt, launching into more verbal assaults. His words fall on deaf ears, your only focus on crawling away.
Your ribs sting sharply with every breath you take, your head pounding in time with your erratic heartbeat. Your hot breath blows clouds of dust with each inch you gain, and you can feel bruises forming where he kicked you so brutally.
Before you can struggle further away, a pair of black shoes comes to rest in front of you. You follow the shoes upwards to see legs and then a blond man in a black suit.
He has a cigarette perched between his lips, his expression displaying a disturbing lack of emotion.
You reach out, taking his boot in your hands and dragging yourself closer to the stranger.
You ignore the taunts of the bandit behind you, focusing on the man before you. His deep eyes meet your gaze.
“Please.. help me,” you beg.
Unable to lift your head anymore, you place your cheek atop his boot.
You hear him inhale deeply, followed by the soft thud of a cigarette falling to the dirt, then a rustle of fabric.
He crouches down and gently lifts your head. You’re shocked when he slides his suit coat under your head as a makeshift pillow.
“Of course I’ll help you, darling,” he says, his voice filled with an intense kindness that has you tearing up again.
You watch as he turns from you, his kindness disappearing in an instant as he faces your attacker.
You shiver at the intensity of his anger as he glares at the bandit.
“How dare you hurt her,” he says stepping forwards. “Swine like you shouldn’t even gaze upon such beauty.”
Pain momentarily forgotten, you watch as he tucks his hands in his pockets before raising his right leg.
“You think I’m scared of you?! My bounty is-“
The bandit doesn’t get to finish his bragging.
The blond’s foot moves faster than you can track, hitting the man with a sickening thud that sends him flying into a nearby building.
Astonished, you watch as the bandit struggles to stand up. He’s sweating now, realizing that this stranger is much more powerful than him. He shakes his head as the blond approaches.
“You’re misunderstanding-“
Your rescuer tsks, “It’s too late to grovel.”
The bandit tries to turn and run now that the tables have turned, but the blond is too fast. He brutally kicks the man back into the rubble without hesitation.
“Please-“
Blood sprays into the sky as he directs a kick at the bandit’s jaw.
You hear a sickening crack and watch him fall lifelessly to the dirt with a thump.
Mouth dry, you watch nervously as the suited man walks back to your side. He kneels down, eyes full of concern, the anger having dissolved right after he fell the bandit.
“Mademoiselle, are you alright? Where are you hurt?”
“Thank you,” you manage to breathe out. The pain has returned full force now that the adrenaline has worn off. It makes your vision swim with tears so you close your eyes. You shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed but you can’t help the swell of emotion from rising up.
This handsome stranger just saved your life when no one else would.
“You need a doctor,” the man states, not mentioning your tears as he glances up at the crowd. “Is there a doctor here?!”
“N-no,” a voice in the crowd replies.
Frowning, he returns his focus on you, “I’ll take you to our ship doctor, he can help.”
He hesitates for a second, before taking you in his arms. He tries not to jostle your wounds, guessing that at least a few of your ribs are broken.
The agony of being moved makes you cry out, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he lifts you bridal-style.
“I’m sorry, darling, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well,” his voice is soft, soothing.
You don’t even know this man, and yet you feel so safe in his embrace. His kind words of encouragement bring another bout of tears, as he begins walking.
After what feels like an eternity being held in his warm embrace, you reopen your eyes as you are gently set down.
Your saviour moves away from you, as a reindeer-like creature starts fussing over your injuries and asking questions. You can’t focus on anything except the man lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag and lowers a hand down to his side.
Against your better judgement, you reach out and clasp his free hand.
“Please don’t leave,” you croak out, now surrounded by more unfamiliar faces as the rest of the crew checks out the commotion you’ve caused.
He pauses and you’re certain you’ve made a mistake. But that thought is squashed as he steps closer to you, “Of course.”
~
You must’ve passed out at some point.
Opening your eyes, you already feel much better. Your chest is bandaged and your headache gone, though it still hurts to breathe too deeply.
You glance to the side and see your rescuer seated beside the bed. He appears to be sleeping.
Shuffling slightly, you turn to get a better look at him. You’ve only just realized that he has curly eyebrows and a small goatee.
His eyes open and you are quick to avert your gaze.
“Are you feeling better?” He asks immediately, sitting up straighter.
You nod, “Yes, thank you.”
“I was worried, but Chopper said you only have two broken ribs and lots of bruising. You’ll want to rest for a few weeks.”
“Broken ribs sound about right.”
He tilts his head downwards, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time.”
“What do you mean? You saved my life,” you try to sit up but the sharp pain reminds you that you need rest. “I’d be dead without you.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he raises his head again.
“Who are you? I want to know the name of my rescuer,” you ask, smiling a bit.
“Sanji,” he replies, finding himself lost in your grateful eyes.
“Sanji, my knight in shining armour,” you take his hand again. “Thank you.”
“And your name?”
You supply your name and he echoes it with a smile.
“I’m glad I could help you.“
Replaying the events in your head you suddenly realize something.
“You called me beautiful.”
His face flushes red at your sudden statement.
“No one’s ever called me that,” your eyes start to tear up again. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
He nearly melts at your words, face completely red now. Before he can utter a reply, the reindeer guy returns.
“Are you ok?! Don’t move, you broke some ribs so you need rest to get better!”
You smile at his fretting, “I’m alright now thanks to you.”
Sanji smiles as you reassure the doctor that you’re ok. Leaning back, he lets Chopper do his thing as he smokes.
He can’t help but wish that he made the bandit suffer a bit more when he sees you wince in pain. And he doesn’t let himself think about what would have happened had he not been walking down that particular street.
Fate was in your favour today.
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hrefna-the-raven · 7 months
Text
Hope in hell
Masterlist - BG3 masterlist
Part 1 - Drunken minds speak sober hearts
Words: 2138
Warnings: smut (18+)
Summary: The dreaded morning after ;)
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Raphael let out a groan, his head pounding like a piece of metal relentlessly being hammered into shape by the most skilled dwarven blacksmiths, the constant painful throbbing clouding his memories, making it difficult to piece together the events of last night, despising how he felt like a common mortal after a night's out. He attempted to sit up but froze as he felt something soft resting on his chest, accompanied by a comforting warmth. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down and let out a sigh, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. Haarlep must have slept with you, assumed your form and then... his eyes shot wide open and he muttered a curse under his breath as fragments of the previous night's memories flickered through his mind.
That damned incubus got him drunk and then you showed up and... His hands delicately traced the contours of your slumbering figure. It was truly you, his beloved little mouse, curled up against his chest. His heart raced, a twinge of pain accompanying the rapid beats, as he pondered how to proceed. What clever remark would he throw at you once you woke up? Would he even need one? Would you recoil and attempt to flee from the sight of the devil beneath you? He didn't get enough time to find an answer to all his questions as you slowly stirred awake, your eyes were still closed as you lazily stretched and your hips accidentally brushed against his growing arousal.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest, causing you to quickly raise your head and look at him, eyes wide with surprise. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, swirling in chaotic circles, expecting to be scolded, pushed away, or even punished. But to your astonishment, nothing happened. You still remained lying there, on top of him, silently gazing into each other's eyes, both afraid that any spoken word might shatter the peaceful and loving moment you were sharing. But the silence grew heavy and a sense of unease slowly crawled up your spine, threatening to consume both your thoughts and body. It was unusual to witness Raphael in such a state of quietude, after all that happened, it didn't sit right with you that he was so calm, devoid of any movement or speech. It almost seemed as if Haarlep had managed to shatter him completely, that one evening of unfiltered truth had stripped away every trace of his self-centered arrogance, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before you. You were the first to ever glimpse at the raw essence of Raphael's entire being and, despite your constant cat and mouse game, you felt no desire to exploit it; on the contrary, you cherished this side of him, the devil laid bare, and at this very moment, you yearned to love him more than ever.
"About last night-"
"I feel the same!", you interjected, cutting off Raphael mid-sentence, "but if you..."
Any further words you were about to utter were engulfed by a provocative moan as you sensed his growing arousal pressed firmly against your hips the moment you attempted to readjust your position. Raphael's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hanging open, unable to withstand the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over him.
"To hell with this, I want you!", the words escaped your lips almost simultaneously, filled with an urgent longing.
Raphael snapped his fingers, and in an instant, both yours and his clothes disappeared. He pulled you towards him so swiftly that you had to clutch onto his horns to prevent yourself from toppling over. As his mouth met your dripping folds, you couldn't help but whimper. It was at this moment that you realised how much of the Raphael you came to know was still present. The damned devil teased you with the anticipation of his hot tongue caressing your arousal but you simply wouldn't have it, not now. You lowered your hips, grinding gently against his face, yearning for any kind of friction. His claws dug into the tender flesh of your thighs, firmly keeping you in place.
"My little mouse", the devil chuckled, "so eager to be eaten."
With a tantalising slowness, he dragged his tongue through the delicate contours of your folds, briefly encircling your clit before sucking on it with an insatiable hunger. The air was filled with the intoxicating symphony of your sinful moans and your grip around his horns instinctively tightened. This was a desire that had consumed your thoughts for countless nights, the fantasy of being pleasured by your very own devil. And now, as it finally became a reality, you couldn't hold anything back. The intensity of your climax approached rapidly and just as you were about to reach its peak, his licks ceased. Frustration welled up within you, ready to protest, but then he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing clit while simultaneously thrust two of his large fingers deep inside you. The rhythmic pumping intensified, driving you towards the edge once more. Within mere moments, your inner walls clenched around his fingers and you experienced a mind-shattering orgasm, screaming his name in ecstasy.
With an unexpected tenderness, he released his grip on your hips and gently cradled you in his arms, carefully laying you down on the bed beside him. His face turned towards you, his eyes filled with love as he gazed upon your blissful expression. As soon your eyes met his, he understood that there would be no turning back anymore, he was in love with this fragile mortal and he would curse himself to an eternity of anguish if he'd deny himself the bliss of your love. The hells and all its devils be damned, he would see that you'd remain at his side for as long as you'd live.
"You now know about my best kept secret", he whispered, as if afraid that any disruption would shatter the fragile balance, "and rest assured my feelings for you will not easily waver. However this is hell and I'm not just any devil but the son of Mephistopheles, I, I can't", he faltered, uncertain of how to proceed as it felt wrong, for the first time in his existence, to utter those words.
"You can't show weakness to others, you can't show your love to me", you offered, the pain your voice obvious.
You turned your eyes away, unable to bear the increasing sorrow, but his hands swiftly moved to cradle your face, redirecting your focus back to him.
"If you're willing to stay by my side despite the laws of the nine hells working against us, I will vow my love to you within my House of Hope for as often as you desire it and I promise you that beyond these walls, I will always treat you with utmost respect and defend your honour, for you will be the lady of this house", he paused briefly, attempting to discern your reaction before continuing, "if you'd be willing."
His words left you in astonishment as you blinked. Did he truly express his desire to commit to you, vowing to cherish and safeguard you? It was a proposal you should have considered longer before answering, yet your body instinctively reacted before your mind could fully comprehend the situation. You crawled towards him, pushing him down on his back as you straddled him, gently, to not hurt his wings before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a fervent embrace. Raphael moaned your name as he felt you positioning his hardening member at your entrance, sinking down on him just enough for the tip to enter. His hands found your hips, holding you in place momentarily as he broke the kiss.
"What are you doing?"
"We're not done until we both had our fair share of pleasure", you breathed as you sank down on him, swallowing a moan, "besides shouldn't the lady of the house keep her man satisfied?"
Raphael's smile widened as he guided your motions, starting off slowly and then picking up speed. Feral growls escaped his lips as he he could feel himself approaching the peak of his own pleasure fast. He had been intimate with many throughout the decades, including Haarlep, a being existing ultimately to provide pleasure, but there was something special about you. The closeness, the shared emotions, the intimacy - all of his previous encounters paled in comparison to the connection he felt with you in this very moment. But you felt just as good, riding a devil, having his cock buried deep down inside you, filling you up perfectly while hitting that sweet spot over and over again, transforming this sinful act into something heavenly. The feeling of pure bliss cursed through your whole body as you moved your hips in a perfect rhythm, the heated embrace of desire and lust unleashed as both of toppled over the edge. In this moment of tenderness and passion, it was clear that your connection went beyond physical pleasure. It was a union of souls, an experience that transcended mere satisfaction. 
"Raphael", you moaned loudly as your walls clenched around his cock, feeling it twitched as his seed spilled inside you.
Both of you panted heavily, a contented smile playing at the edges of your lips as the devil sat up, his arms wrapping around you to pull you into a tight embrace.
"I love you", he whispered tenderly, chuckling as you hummed your consent, too spent to utter a word.
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"Oh my, what a perfectly delicious sight", a familiar voice chuckled, drawing nearer.
Your eyes snapped open and you blinked in disbelief as you spotted Astarion standing in the boudoir, bearing a smug grin as he observed the two of you with obvious amusement.
"Astarion?!", you shrieked, scrambling off Raphael, hastily covering your exposed form with the silk blanket to hide both your nakedness and your embarrassment from your companion. The vampire merely chuckled, his gaze shifting between you and the devil.
"Guess again, little mouse", the pale elf playfully teased, giving you a sly wink, his crimson eyes glowing up for just a second, "it seems my plan worked rather well."
Before you had a chance to fully comprehend who was standing before you, Raphael, still unclothed, swiftly leapt out of bed and lunged towards the elf. His fingers clenched tightly around Haarlep's throat, exerting a dangerous pressure. You wanted to scream, to implore Raphael to stop, but Haarlep calmly transformed into his master's form, causing Raphael to immediately release his grip on the incubus' throat.
"You wretched creature!", Raphael spat, "you poisoned me! Do NOT forget your place in this house, slave!"
Instinctively, you retreated further onto the bed, clutching the blanket tightly as sudden fear surged through you. You had witnessed many facets of Raphael's personality, but this seething rage terrified you beyond measure, especially coming from the same being who had cradled you tenderly just moments before but a part of you also understood his anger.
"You misunderstood, my dear master, my intent was never to poison you. I simply intended to", the incubus gestured towards you, "enhance your chances with your favourite misadventurer, all in your best interest I assure you."
Raphael was fuming, wishing he could obliterate Haarlep into countless fragments. However, he recognised that he couldn't afford to destroy such a gift from his father, at least not yet, and deep down Raphael knew that the incubus was right, without his involvement, last night and this morning wouldn't have unfolded so magnificently. Haarlep, of course, fully grasped the advantage he currently held over his master and decided to push his luck even further, knowing that such a perfect opportunity would not present itself again in the near future.
"If you'll excuse me", he hummed while transforming back to Astarion's form, "I have to get back to my new, rather passionate, lover. It's quite nice to be in the receiving end for once."
He gave you a sly wink and blew a quick kiss your way before disappearing once again, leaving you alone with the annoyed devil.
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Rising to your feet, you cautiously approached Raphael, still wrapped in the warmth of a blanket. Your fingertips lightly traced along the edges of his magnificent wings as you circled around him.
"Why not free the incubus from his duties?", you suggested, tugging at his hand and bringing it up to your lips, planting kisses along the inside of his arm, "no more Haarlep means no father watching your every move."
Raphael chuckled, pulling you close and lifting you effortlessly in one swift motion.
"Well, well, my little mouse," he whispered, planting a sweet peck on your lips, "not only are you full of delightful surprises, but it also seems that I couldn't have asked for a more perfect lady of my House of Hope."
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@dark-and-kawaii
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mochatsin · 8 months
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WHEN MC COMES HOME INJURED
There are a lot of issues that you can come across as a human in Devildom and sometimes, the brothers aren’t really prepared for the worst case scenarios. One day they find you at home injured from other demons, how will they respond to this?
TW: Implied Bullying, Violence, Torture, Injury
sometimes I wonder if MC is a bit desensitized to violence (but not to a level where they’re no longer bothered by it). Think about it, the brothers have war-level fights all the time in the house. Plus MC lives in a realm full of devils.
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Lucifer  
His patience has never been so tested, all he can think about right now is going straight home. He heard that there was a  commotion that happened in one of your classes, so everyone was excused to leave early.
He never heard any of the details, and he would’ve asked the teachers or anyone in your class but it was better to hear from you instead. The wellbeing of the exchange student is his responsibility after all.
Lucifer was about to knock on your door but he heard a sniffle coming from your room which made him start panicking. “MC? Pardon me, but I’m coming over.” 
He found you by the bed, clutching your arm that’s poorly bandaged. Seeing the tears in your eyes broke his heart as he ran to your side. 
You told him that things got bad during your potions class. You don’t know how it went wrong when you followed the instructions correctly, but the cauldron exploded and gave you a bad burn. The teacher even scolded you in front of the class despite being in pain, making you an example of a foolish student before dismissing everyone.
Lucifer knows you’re not one to make clumsy mistakes like this, yet he keeps quiet to himself about that. His focus for now is to treat your wounds properly. But boy, he could feel his blood boil through his veins. How dare they make a fool out of you?! 
He promised to find something human-friendly for your skin as he applied a spell to numb the pain before going back to RAD. 
On his way, he overheard two students snickering to each other. Lucifer recognized them from your class. 
“Who knew adding fire newt tongues would’ve made it that explosive?” “You should’ve seen the look on their face when the teacher got mad. I knew the teacher hated them but it was hilarious when they looked like they were gonna cry!”
Lucifer had this sinister smile on his face as he walked up to the students. “Meet me in my office. We need to have a little talk.” 
It takes him an hour before he can come back to you with a healing salve. Gently applying it to your skin, you were astonished at how it was instantly restored!
Before you can comment about your amazement, Lucifer brings you in for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry… I’ll make sure you won’t get hurt like this again. I promise.” He tries to act calm but with how his hands held you so firmly, you can feel that he really was worried.
You could say that Lucifer keeps to his word when you find the demons, even your teacher, hung up by their legs in the potions classroom. They were beaten beyond recognition, you can’t even tell if they were still alive because the brothers lured you away from the scene before you could inspect them further. 
The whole school got the message, to never mess with the Morningstar’s human. The punishments are beyond what they could imagine, it’s not worth the few moments of satisfaction from making you cry.
Those people were dragged away by Barbatos to the castle’s dungeon, never to be seen again. Diavolo had to make arrangements for a replacement, and Lucifer ensured that you have at least one brother for every class to watch over you. 
He was strict and a bit more overprotective to you than usual, so it took a lot of time for you to reassure him that you’ll be fine.
Mammon 
To lesser demons, it’s a wonder how his denial with his problematic gambling and theft still made him think that he’s amazing and great. 
The stacks of reports about Mammon in the student council room can break records. He would ask Grimm that he would refuse to pay back, steal things he considers valuable, and his money-making schemes have caused lots of problems for other students. 
Despite the punishments from Lucifer, some demons think that it’s not enough. They want to hit him where it hurts. 
Mammon has been waiting for you, spamming your D.D.D. with several messages. You both planned to spend the night watching a movie together once you get home, but you’ve been running late and he’s getting impatient. 
When he hears the main door open, he rushes with the intention of complaining about what took you so long, until he finds you limping your way inside. 
“HEY MC I– huh… MC? What’s up with you? HEY!” As soon as he realizes that there’s more injuries on you, he instantly carries you to the bathroom and treats your wounds as best as he can.
He doesn’t speak, but he can’t hide the trembling of his fingers when he applies gauze pads and disinfectants on your wounds. 
You tried to explain what happened to him to the best of your abilities. You were cornered by some demons you didn’t even know on your way back home and they picked a fight. When you described what they looked like, Mammon instantly knew who they were.
“How about you rest first in the room while I go handle something yeah? Maybe report this to Lucifer” He lied of course. As if he’s going to waste a single second not hunting down these bastards. He lets one of his brothers tend to your wounds, he has other matters to attend to.
Mammon would send those demons a message, saying that he’s ready to repay them if they meet up. He was ready to give them back 10 times the pain they gave you. Break their legs for making you limp, even. 
You wake up in your bed to find him asleep next to you, holding your body close. The small tear stains on his cheeks made you pout and… well, you don’t tell him about the red stains left on his hands.
He walks you back to your classroom only for you to find it trashed. Broken chairs and desks, holes in the black board and the walls, and the demons from yesterday looking so bruised and wounded that they could barely shrink back in fear when they saw you and Mammon together. 
Lucifer would’ve punished Mammon for wrecking school property until you explained to him what happened. Given the nature of these circumstances, he didn’t tie up his brother from the roof like usual, but made him clean up the classroom he trashed.
Even with his goofiness around you, that incident was a reminder for the school that he’s still the second most powerful brother and the wisest thing is to never touch Greed’s treasure. 
Levi
Levi noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately when you come home. You’re always too tired to watch his shows and when you do, he finds one thing odd. 
When the anime he was watching showed a scene about bullying, you would flinch or turn away. You were never like this before and now Levi is suspicious. What has been happening in RAD when he’s not there?
Lucifer called him in to catch up on his classes since he’s been slacking off due to his games. He stayed a bit behind and when he finally finished, all he could think of was finally getting his hands back to his controller but then he stopped when he saw you in one of the empty classrooms. 
You were being cornered by a large demon, probably the size of Beel, who taunted you. About how you’re nothing but a weakling without the brothers, and calling them here would just prove his point. 
He was raising his fists to land another blow so you used your arms to protect yourself, but it never came. Instead, you find Levi kneeling down next to you with a sad look on his face.
He was in his full demon form, his tail holding onto the demon’s fist and won’t let go. “MC… why didn’t you tell me? Or at least any of us?” He seemed hurt because he didn’t know you’ve been in so much pain, especially when he saw the bruises on your skin as he tugged your sleeves down. 
He wrapped his jacket around you and wiped away your tears, trying to calm you down. Though it’s hard when Levi’s tail now has a death grip on the wrist of the demon who’s now screaming in pain and begging to be let go. 
“Shut up!” He hissed, his fangs bared out when he turned to the larger demon. 
Levi snaps his fingers and the demon disappears. The demon finds himself in the depths of the deep sea, struggling to breathe and swim up. He was spared from the agonizing suffocation by the sharp teeth of Lotan who swallowed him. 
He shifts back to his regular form and waits until you’re okay to be held. He tries to be gentle with you given the amount of bruises you’ve gotten. Since he’s not good at magic, maybe one of the angels can do something about this.
He doesn’t leave your side while Simeon tends to your bruises, all while he calls Lucifer to inform him of what happened.
“You’re my player two, we’re supposed to help each other out you know? That’s how the game works. S-so rely on me more MC!” 
He didn’t want to let you watch some anime that has bullying in the story, out of fear that it might remind you of what happened. The last thing he wants is to accidentally make you upset. 
Levi started attending school more, waiting for you outside your classroom every dismissal. You’d spot him gaming on his phone and if you’d ask why won’t he go straight back to the house, he’d just stutter way beyond comprehension. 
His cute flustered look as he struggles with the slightest physical contact, no one would guess that he’s the reason for the disappearance of the biggest bully in your class. It’s all game over when you mess with the Grand Admiral after all.
Satan 
Despite being just a new exchange student in a realm with little to no knowledge, you still somehow make it through the academic year and even get better marks than half of the demon brothers who lived for centuries. 
Some demons in class find it infuriating to see a lowly human do better. ‘Maybe they’ve just cheated.’ ‘Perhaps they use spells to see the answers’ ‘the wizard knows some sorcery, maybe this one does too’ ‘how wicked.’
Those were rumors you hear when you enter a classroom before a lecture. You try to not let it bother you because they’re not true. It’s from the combined effort of your hard work and the brother’s teaching you from scratch. 
Satan has been waiting for you in the house since you told him that your lesson from today was a bit difficult to understand, so you both set up a small study session for when you get home. But it’s been about an hour ever since your last message. 
No amount of reading has calmed his nerves since you’re not one to be late for no reason. It’s been raining really hard so he thought that maybe you’re stuck in this weather, but the lack of messages is still concerning. 
When he heard the door open, he closed his book with the intent of questioning why you were late, but he saw how soaked you were from head to toe. 
He grabs your arm to help clean you up, but you hissed and yanked it away. He looked at you confusingly before he noticed the puddle of rain water was mixed with something… red. 
Without haste, he sits you down in the living room and rushes to get the first aid kit. He’s thankful for learning about first aid, but never did he think that he would have to use it on you like this. 
He focused first on calming you down, placing soft kisses on your head every time you’d whimper. It worried him a lot, but he didn’t want to ask you about your tears until he’s sure you’re okay. 
It took half an hour, and a whole lot of pain relievers until you’re okay. Satan went to grab your things left at the door, only to see a lot of your books and homework torn to bits. Connecting two and two together, he knew what happened. 
When you slept, there was only one thing racing in his thoughts. To hunt. He’s heard of the rumors about you, and he’s had enough of staying passive about it. 
He practically interrogates every student he comes across until he gets his answers. When he finally has a name, he would turn each stone in the realm until he finds them. 
The moment he does, the demons are facing the most agonizing cat and mouse chase of their lives. Satan would follow suit behind their tails, and each time they ran across him they would shed more blood and tears. 
He would’ve killed them on the spot with one snap of a finger, but that’s too easy. He wanted them to feel the fear, let it consume their soul until they go insane and give up. Only then did he grant them the release from this torture by burning them in green fire that not even the storm can put out, until there’s only ash. 
He comes home, covered in blood and ash. He smiles as he places a kiss on your head when he finds you still asleep. After that, Satan offered to help you get some spare books and do something about your ruined homework. 
He became much more aggressive afterwards, no longer tolerating any ill intent directed towards you. Mutter something under your breath, he’ll make sure it’s your last. That’s how they’ll pay the price. 
Asmo
Asmo has so many admirers that are not limited to adoring fans online, but even famous celebrities that had the luck of working with him in magazine gigs and product commercials.
To him it doesn’t matter what kind of attention he gets, whether it's healthy or parasocial, he’ll bask in all of it as long as he’s the object of their affections. 
He wouldn’t normally care when his brothers would get crowded with his fans who wanted them to deliver their love letters and gifts, despite all of his brother’s complaints or protests. However, you’re the exception. 
Asmo doesn’t really hide how he feels about you. He would post your pictures with him on Devilgram or brag about you online. It did harbor some jealousy, but there are some that dealt with this worse than others. 
‘It’s unbearable to see him with such a lowly human!’ a demoness thought as she found a new post from asmo’s page with you in the background. Her nails could crack through her phone at the sheer rage and she plans to do something about these feelings.
Asmo has been calling you nonstop since you two were supposed to meet up at the house to go to a salon together, after your shift ends of course. However, you’re running late and the salon would close in half an hour. 
He was by his room when he heard your door open and closed. Asmo had the full intent to be extra whiny about your tardiness when he went to your room and opened the door. 
He was in the middle of complaining but trailed off when he saw you clenching your cheek and turned away quickly from his gaze. You were trying to make him leave, saying that you’ll change first, but he’s not buying it. “Let me see, please?” 
He moved your hands away from your face and gasped at the claw marks that ran across your cheeks. It hurts him to see that you try to hide the face he finds so adoring, so pretty. And he wants to find out who dared to ruin it.
He sits you on his lap while he applies any sort of healing skin that can restore it. He’s not going to allow a single scar caused by some low blood demon to rest on your face. He looks at you with a pout on his lips as he asks “... who was it?” 
You can’t help it, so you explain that the demoness that was also in the magazine cover with him the other week, stopped by your work and slapped you across the cheek. About how a human should not have her place next to the Avatar of Lust. 
For a quick second, he was wrath and you felt it. But he gave you a smile and held you close “you know that’s not true right darling?” and whispered sweet words to you.
Asmo spent the next few hours asking Levi and Solomon for help. The demoness instantly lost thousands of followers online, each and every scandal anonymously  exposed for the whole realm to see. He was hell bent on ruining her life with all the power he has as an influencer and a demon.
You never see the demoness again, you just know that she lost every connection and supporters she had overnight. If you ask Asmo about it, he’ll just shrug and smile “It’s just how it works honey. But don’t worry about that thing, why don’t we go to the spa like we should’ve done a few days ago? I booked a new appointment for us” 
Only Asmo, and maybe Solomon, knows the truth. So if you see a pink toad at the side of the road, pay no attention to it. 
Beel
Beel has been regarded as the star athlete when it comes to Fangol. Other than his towering height and unbelievable strength, it’s a product of all his hard work and training. He’s been doing more every time you promised to watch his games. 
He treats you like your lucky charm, and every time you’re there he would always do so well in his games. The other team doesn’t like that, they’re tired of the constant loss. Maybe if they do something about Beel’s lucky charm, he would be demotivated to play.
They’re demons after all, so cheating is not exempted in their nature. They’re willing to do what it takes to get Beel down to his knees, even if it means they’ll get their hands dirty.
There’s two days before the big game and Beel wanted to get a family-sized snack as usual from the fridge to calm his nerves. That’s when he found you rummaging through the freezer. 
Maybe you were trying to get some hellfire ice cream, so he thought. Until he saw that you pressed an ice pack against your head. “MC? Are you okay?” He walks in to check on you. 
He gasped when he saw that you looked a bit roughed up. There’s a bruise slowly forming on the corner of your lip, and some dried blood from the side of your temple. 
He knows that this was no accident when he found more bruises by your arm. Since he got a bunch of those during Fangol, he knows how to treat them. You’re no player though. After putting two and two together? He’s starting to get an idea what might’ve happened.
You did eventually open up about why you were hurt. You were going home and felt someone throw a Fangol ball to your head. You recognized that they were from the opposing team of the upcoming match and they continued to use you as target practice as you ran all the way back to the house. 
Beel was holding onto a bowl of cold water with a damp towel to treat you and as soon as you finished your story, the bowl was nothing but shards on his palm. 
His deathly aura must’ve alerted the whole house, especially Belphie who suddenly woke up from a nap as he came running towards the kitchen only to find his twin already in demon form. 
You’ve never seen him this angry that was outside food (or Belphie) and you tried to calm Beel down, but he left you in Belphie’s care while he walked out of the house. There was no way he was going to let this pass, not when you’ve already gotten hurt.
It doesn’t take Beel a long while to find the opposing team, especially when they always wear those ridiculous jersey jackets. Despite their large sizes that almost compare to him, they’re nothing but flies to Beelzebub himself. 
“Heard you had a bit of target practice earlier… I wanted to go easy on you, so if you drop out of the game and never show yourself again I'll spare you.” 
One of them scoffed and tried to throw a punch at his face. Let’s just say… never aim so close to his jaw. That player was no longer capable of holding a Fangol ball anymore, and the whole team got the message. 
You received a notification online that the upcoming Fangol game has been canceled, as the team captain is suddenly incapable of playing anymore. 
Beel comes home with a smile on his face while he has takeout of your favorite food. Mammon would comment about how it’s a miracle that he didn’t eat it on the way home, and all Beel said “It’s okay, I already grabbed a bite somewhere else.”
Belphie 
If demons would cower under the sights of Lucifer, the exact opposite can be said about the youngest. Not everyone can find the demon who does nothing but sleep to be intimidating, despite his status and power. 
Belphie doesn’t really care about trivial things about that. As if the demon who was willing to go against the royal prince himself was actually going to get bothered by mere rumors, even though it was all true.
He wouldn’t mind being called ‘a heavy weight’ when it comes to doing work, since he’d rather exert the least amount of effort if that’s what it takes for him to sleep faster. Sometimes he would forget important meetings because of his 8-hour naps. 
Today was one of those days where Belphie overslept while you were waiting for him in the library to do work together. He woke up and realized that he was almost an hour late so he was rushing towards the door but surprisingly bumped into you. 
“MC! I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to make you wait so long…” He was a bit panicked because you looked upset, though you told him that you’re fine and tried to walk back to your room. 
He grabs your arm and you wince, pulling it away from him. He looks at you confusingly, before he notices a slight cut on your cheek and how your clothes look a bit dirtier than usual. So he gets worried and asks what happened to you. 
You explained that while waiting in the library, you overheard some demons talking so badly about Belphie and calling him names. You confronted them, trying to defend his name, and the demons gave you a certain lesson for trying to sermon them. 
Belphie whines and pulls you in for a hug, trying to provide any sort of comfort he can give. “You didn’t have to do that for me MC… but thank you. Go get some rest, you deserve it more than I do.” 
His touch with you is so gentle when he makes little circles on your back as he hugs you. He lets you rest on his chest, feeling calm and safe in his arms. But Belphie was far from that. 
He could feel himself close to popping a vein, the only thing stopping him from shifting into his demon form was because he was holding you. When he puts you down on your bed as you sleep, he stares at you for a while before whispering “... I’ll repay you for your kindness, MC” 
The demons were laughing as they left the library, talking about the human they just picked on earlier. Too busy in their own merry to notice the pair of eyes that’s been following them.
Such carelessness would be their demise when they ended up getting thrown down the alley by the very demon they’ve been speaking ill of. Belphie stares down at them with no mercy in his eyes, despite the blood and screams. Unlike his twin, he was not as merciful. 
“I can tolerate the nasty things about me… but if you hurt my MC, then you deserve eternal sleep.” 
He comes home and immediately after dealing with the trash and starts walking back to your room. He’s glad to see that one of the brothers must’ve healed your wounds since your skin has been restored. 
‘... if they really see the best in me, maybe I should put in more effort.’ he thought to himself, hugging you close as he drifts off to sleep. You wake up only to find that, surprisingly, Belphie has done all the work for the both of you.
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devnmon · 4 days
Text
too sweet. || a.m.
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a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !
wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)
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Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.
He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.
You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of your from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.
It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.
He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.
The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.
His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.
When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.
At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.
You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.
Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.
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cherryredstars · 7 months
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HI OH MY GOSH i read your fic where the reader tutors miguel and im so Hngghuagsg its amazing youre so good at writing<33
i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write a similar situation with like reader who's not exactly quiet, maybe someone who doesnt even like take the subjects he takes, but he passes by her in the hallway, she's known by people in his classes, she has friends and she talks to everyone but him. and he doesnt know why, (ik its a stretch but could the reader have acne in so many fics i see readers being kissed on the forehead and im like i have acne there he wouldnt want to kiss it :"D)
little does he know that she, whos normally not a shy person is shy to talk to him because she likes him and like she cant fathom him liking her back, she;s...just her. shes not special, or even like a topper. she's just there. and she couldnt be more further from the truth
im so sorry if this is confusing its long and a bit confusing but id love to see what youd do with it<3 thank you
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Insecure!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Slight Insecurity, Mentions of Acne, Slightly Jealous Miguel
Summary: All he wants is your attention. 
A/N: So cute, so cute, so cute
Word Count: 1.8K (Barely Edited)
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You remind him of a mouse. 
Always running away before he can fully register that you’re there. Always skirting around his field of vision in the halls as you walk past and purposely quiet your voice to not alert him. It frustrates him. Knowing that you’re there and not at the same time. It pains him because he knows you only do it when it’s him. He isn’t even around you constantly, but he knows there is a difference in the way you act around him. 
He knows you’re usually an energetic and bright person. If he were to pull random people in the hall aside and ask them about you, all their faces would light up in recognition of your name and they would go on and on about their love for you. They would recount all the times you’ve made them laugh and smile, how you’re the sunshine stuffed into a single person, how you can’t take three steps inside the school without someone calling out a greeting towards you. They all talk from experience. Experience Miguel doesn’t have.
He’s tried, he really has. He thought maybe he intimidated you with his height and the usually dark look on his face. So, he tried his best to be soft when you’re around, and tried to convey that he wasn’t a threat. But all of his attempts are in vain. You still stop talking when he comes up to your shared group of friends, always pick the furthest spot away from him, always keep your words and attention towards him to a minimum. He can recount the multiple occasions where one of your mutual friends walked with you down the hall and stopped to talk to Miguel. Each time, his gaze shifted towards you and watched the way you don’t even turn towards him, instead scrolling through your phone as you waited. 
It takes everything in him to not wave a huge sign in your face spelling out PAY ATTENTION TO ME! A large amount of his self control goes towards not pulling whoever you're walking with away from you so he can take their place, forcing you to give him the attention he’s so deprived of. Whenever he asks one of your friends about your behavior, they can only give him a sympathetic look and the shrug of their shoulders. So instead, Miguel steals his time with you through secret observations. His attention instantly snapping towards you when the group is hanging out, his eyes searching for your frame in the halls in between classes. 
He watches the way your eyes light up when you talk to someone, wild hand movements accompanying your stories. He watches the way you always adjust the strap of your book bag that you can never really fix. Loves the look of surprise on your face when someone you don’t know calls out your name and you laugh in confusion as you say hello back and turn to your friends in astonishment. Watches the way you randomly pull your phone out in the halls when you trail behind your group of friends, a small frown on your face as you turn your head and poke at the raised bumps on your skin. Each little sight feels like a breath of fresh air to Miguel, welcoming anything you unknowingly give him. 
It’s a god given gift the day he finds you sitting alone on the bleachers afterschool, none of the people you usually hide behind when you want to get away from him in sight. He keeps his movements slow and quiet to not alert your attention towards his approaching figure. When he sits besides you, you jump in surprise, a look of awe on your face at the sight of him that quickly morphs into the familiar shyness. He watches the way your hand tightens on your phone before you quietly speak up. “Hi, Miguel.”
The sound of your voice, directed entirely towards him makes his heart sing. He feels the unease wash from his shoulders, but he can see it transferring towards you. Even though it pains him to, he leaves a considerable amount of space between the two of you. A whole other person can fit in the empty space. Miguel clenches his fist as he eyes the space in envy, trying his best to ignore it for the sake of your comfort. 
He must be god’s favorite today because as you watch him, you let out a shy smile and whisper out: “You can sit closer, y’know?”
He doesn’t hesitate to fill the space, his knee bumping with yours in his eagerness to be closer. A small laugh leaves you and every rainy day for the next month is cleared away in your happiness. Miguel is utterly hypnotized by you, his eyes shamelessly staring at your face as he drinks in what he’s been missing out on. Is this what it's like? Is this what it's like to be in the presence of a star?
Your smile turns awkward the more he stares at your face, mistaking it for him studying the patch of acne you’ve had difficulties getting rid off. You shift in discomfort, trying to subtly cover the area from view as you clear your throat. Miguel is awakened from his state of awe at the sight of your discomfort, the way you try to hide your imperfections clear as day to him from all the times he’s watched you do it around your friends. Miguel sits up straighter and turns his body to fully face you. He gently moves your hand away from your face, unobstructing his view of you. “You looked really pretty today. Liked the way you did your hair, it looks nice.”
Your eyes are wide as you look at Miguel, his words not fully being processed by your muddy mind. He’s so close and he’s touching you. You think maybe you’re having mirage from being out in the hot sun for too long. You hesitantly look behind you, thinking he’s talking to someone else. The action makes Miguel smile slightly, his thumb rubbing against the pulse point on your wrist to call your attention back towards him. You continue to blink up at him, a blush forming on your face as your point to yourself in clarification. 
Miguel’s smile widens as he tilts his head slightly, a strand of hair covering his eyes while his shoulder shake from silent chuckles. “Yes, you.”
Your smile grows wider in bashfulness, muttering a small thank you as your hand goes to your hair. In your nervousness, you start talking about your process in getting up this morning. Oversharing about how you had tried it out the night before only for it to give you difficulties this morning that made you frustrated and think you would be late to school. Miguel listens wholeheartedly, a small smile still on his face as he lets you say everything that comes to your mind. You end the rant with another thanks towards him for being the only one noticing your efforts with your appearance. 
He finds the appreciation unnecessary, but he’s proud to have gained it from you. He’s sure he looks like a proud puppy with a wagging tail at your praise and his ability to coax a conversation that lasts more than three words. He racks his brain for more things he could say, anything he can do to make you speak more and keep up this easy going air that's so rarely over the both of you. The tiniest bit of pride shines in his eyes whenever he’s successful. 
He lets you go on and on, dismissing your apologies whenever you feel like you’ve talked too much. He’s always been more of a listener than a talker anyways. Plus, he likes discovering the world you dive into when you get lost in your mind. He especially doesn’t mind it when that world subconsciously causes you to raise your hand and push away the strand of hair covering his forehead. His heart beats dangerously fast as he holds his breath, scared he’ll break whatever spell he’s in. It’s only after you start pulling your hand away that you freeze with the realization of what you did. 
A nervous look crosses your face as you start to apologize profusely, your hand still hovering over the side of his face. Miguel shakes his head with a happy smile, once again scolding you for your obsession with the word sorry. When you don’t stop your onslaught for forgiveness, he clasps your hand and presses a kiss to the heel of your palm, successfully shutting you up. You’re a stuttering mess, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you try to form words in your useless mind. Miguel chuckles against the warm skin of your palm and keeps it in his hold as he moves your joined hands to the warmed metal between the both of you. "Go on, princesa. What happened next?"
More shy than before, you continue on, both of your thumbs taking turns rubbing the back of each other's hand. During the never-ending conversation, the two of you get closer and closer. Your body now pressed into Miguel’s side as you laugh and smile at each other. Miguel adds little bits of speech into the conversation, commenting on things he hears or remembers happening or to agree with you on something. He's never seen you so open and carefree with him, and he selfishly wishes for more moments like this. 
Too soon, the moment is broken when your phone starts ringing. You answer, a sorry expression on your face before you turn slightly to answer, pulling your hand from Miguel’s. He clenched his empty palm as you talk, staring down at the lightness that it contains. When you hang up the phone and turn back towards him, the closed-off and reserved behavior returns. 
"I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you, Migs." You whisper as you begin to stand up and gather your things. The nickname you call him warms him through the cold reality of what the two of you will resort back to. 
He hums sadly, the hand previously in his pocket taking your hand again. He debates giving it another kiss, but he decides against it. Instead he gives your hand a gentle squeeze and a small smile. Your cheeks flush again and you give him a fleeting smile in return before making your way down the bleachers. Once you make it down, he stands up and watches as you walk towards a newly pulled up car. You turn and give him a small wave, turning away too quickly to catch his small wave back. 
A heavy sigh leaves him as you drive off. A small weight stays on his chest and he curses slightly, hoping the two of you won't go back to square one. 
Meanwhile, you sit in the passenger seat of the car, a fond smile on your face as you trace the string of numbers scrawled out on the slip of paper he pressed into your hand.
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This is the last Miguel request in my inbox WOOO!!
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stylesispunk · 3 months
Text
"The not so invisible String" part 4
Not outbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader
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summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?
word count: 5,5k
warnings: angst, cheating, in summary, it is a terrible day for the reader. "Doe" is her nickanme. No proof reading haha
a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks (again) to write something. It was my birthday on Tuesday so my inspo came back for a moment because I felt happy that day. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 Remember my dms and asks are always open for you
dividers by @/saradika.
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Time stopped. Tears and tears streamed down your cheeks. Humiliated, broken, and foolish. There was nothing but fury and desire next to a flame that threatened to explode into a fire, burning all the last years you had spent beside a man who just caused pain.
Your hands on the wheel were shaking, and your knuckles were purple after punching a thousand times, cursing Dwight’s name as if it were poison with a bitter taste in your lips.
You were following him. Following the path to the world he had built behind your back to trap him in the act, to defy him, to hit him, and finally to remove the dagger he had punched in your lungs.
You were going to free yourself from a world of dirty lies you and Dwight had created to free yourselves from old flames that didn’t allow you to advance, but you had loved and respected him, even when he left you in the dark.
Like everybody else, you thought.
There was always someone better—someone to run to, someone to love—but it was never you.
You were the one left in ruins, playing hide and seek, alone, and crying.
All the negative thoughts running through your head stopped the minute Dwight parked the car in a pretty nice house, where he had been playing doll house with another woman and another child.
You parked the car a discreet distance away from where Dwight had entered, and your hands were still trembling as you sat there, grappling with the maelstrom of emotions tearing through your heart.
It seemed like this city was cursed.
The seconds stretched into minutes as you contemplated your next move. The desire for confrontation warred with the awareness that once you stepped into the world Dwight had kept hidden from you, there would be no going back. The flames of anger fueled your decision, and with a deep breath, you stepped out of the car, your eyes focused on the battle field ahead.
Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. Each step you took meant facing the piece of the puzzle that had been kept hidden from you. The heavy weight of treason on your shoulders and pain and rage fueled your mind.
Finally, you reached the door that seemed to hold the answers you sought. The muffled sounds from within hinted at a world you had been excluded from. Your hand trembled as you reached for the piece of wood, and with a deep breath, you knocked at the door, waiting for the revelation.
The door creaked open, revealing a woman with a warm smile on her face. She was oblivious to the fury that raged within you. Her innocence seemed to contrast sharply with the treason that broke your ego. The smile faltered slightly as she took in the tear-streaked face and red eyes.
"Hi there, can I help you?" she asked, her tone friendly but tinged with concern.
Your eyes scanned her face with astonishment and disbelief. How could she be so unaware of the man she was with? Your gaze shifted, and that's when you saw the little girl, no more than four years old, happily playing in the living room.
The contrast hit you like a ton of bricks. The image of Dwight playing the role of a loving father to this child felt like a betrayal on a whole new level, taking you to the very exact moment he stopped playing with Tara, the moment he stopped acting like a father to her. You struggled to find words; your voice was caught in the turmoil of emotions.
"I... I need to talk to Dwight," you managed to say, your voice raw and trembling.
The woman's smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. "Dwight? You must be mistaken. There's no one here by that name."
Your heart skipped a beat. Could you have been wrong? Was this not the place you thought it was? Doubt crept in, but then you heard a familiar voice from within the house, calling the little girl's name.
"Daddy!"
Your breath caught in your throat as Dwight appeared in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to shock at the sight of you standing there.
"What are you doing here?" he stammered, his attempt at feigning innocence falling apart.
The reality unfolded before you, and the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. The woman beside him, the child, the house—it was all part of a life Dwight had been living behind your back. Your hands clenched into fists as anger and hurt surged through you.
"Who is she, Dwight?" you demanded, your voice a mixture of pain and anger.
He hesitated for a moment; the guilt was written all over his face. The woman beside him looked from you to Dwight, realization dawning on her.
"Daddy, who is she?" the little girl asked, confusion in her innocent eyes.
Dwight stammered, struggling to find words that could undo the mess he had created. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of the little girl's toys.
“Elisa, please take Emma to her room,” Dwight said for the first time.
The woman, apparently named Elisa, took a step back, her eyes flickering between you and Dwight. She gently guided the little girl, Emma, away, leaving you and Dwight in a charged atmosphere.
The weight of the betrayal settled over the room, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your gaze bore into Dwight's, demanding an explanation that might never suffice.
"What is this, Dwight?" you questioned, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "How long has this been going on?"
Dwight avoided eye contact; his guilt was evident. "It's complicated," he muttered, a feeble attempt to justify his actions.
"Complicated?" you scoffed, bitterness tainting your words. "So, you accidentally had a daughter with another woman?”
“I can explain,” he said, reaching for you, but you stepped back.
“You made Tara and I move here because you wanted to be with her, didn’t you?” The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, and anger surged through your veins.
“I thought it was the best for us and for you,” he stammered, his excuses sounding feeble and hollow.
“For us? Or for you and your secret family?” Your voice rose, a mix of betrayal and anger coloring your words.
Dwight’s eyes darted from you to the ground, realizing the depth of the mess he had created. The room felt heavy with the weight of shattered trust and broken promises.
When no more words came from his lips, you turned to leave. Dwight's desperate plea echoed in the background. "Please, let me explain."
“I don’t want your damn explanations, Dwight. I want a divorce.”
As the weight of your decision hung in the air, Dwight's face contorted with a mix of desperation and regret. The word "divorce" hit him like a cold, hard truth, a consequence of the choices he had made. The room seemed to close in around him as he grappled with the reality of losing the life he had taken for granted.
He grabbed you by the arm with such force that it almost fell from your shoulder, stopping you from getting into the car.
“Love, please, let's talk about this. We can work things out," Dwight pleaded, his voice a desperate attempt to salvage the unraveling threads of your marriage.
You pulled your arm away, resentment etched on your face. "There's nothing left to talk about, Dwight. You made your choices, and now I'm making mine. There’s no way I’m staying with you after this.”
But for him, this couldn’t be the end; this couldn’t be the end that his so-perfect family on the outside was done.
“This just suits you well, right?” He asked, with a bitter taste on his tongue, “Now you will run to Joel.”
Your jaw clenched at Dwight's accusation. The bitterness in his words stung, but you knew that responding with anger would only prolong the pain and the fury rustling your bones. With a heavy sigh, you looked at him.
"This has nothing to do with Joel," you stated firmly, your voice devoid of the emotions that churned within. "This is about us, about what you did. I won't stay in a marriage built on lies."
“Oh, but it was made of lies!” he exclaimed, now fury corroding him. “Do you think it didn’t hurt me to now you would never love me the way you loved him”
Your patience was wearing thin, and Dwight's attempts to deflect blame onto Joel only fueled your frustration. "Stop trying to shift the blame, Dwight," you retorted, your voice sharp. "This is about your choices, not Joel. Our marriage was broken long before Joel came back into the picture."
You started the car, determined to put distance between yourself and the wreckage of your marriage, from Dwight and his venom, and as you drove away, the weight of the truth settled on your shoulders, and the road ahead seemed both daunting and full of uncertainties.
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“Hey, why aren’t you coming back to work?”
2:30 p.m
“Come on, Doe where are you?”
2:35 p.m
“Doe, seriously I’m getting worried.”
2:45 p.m
“If you don’t come back, I’m coming to your house.”
3:00 p.m
Oh Joel, sweet Joel, you thought as his messages popping up on your screen, yet you didn’t answer, not finding the strength to even take your phone a put effort on making up a lie.  You wanted distance, silence and peace.
You were sitting on the couch, looking around your house, and it felt so cold to be on your own, alone, humiliated and sad. Your tears had almost run out, your face felt tainted with the salty taste of your own sadness.
You knew you weren’t innocent. You had been taunted with the could’ve been with Joel, with a flame that tainted your life with a dark blue because there will never going to be something like that, someone like him.
 Back when you found yourself with your back against the wall, kissing the lips of Dwight, your wound was open and you allowed the fire sparks enter to your, blind hoping for the care of a man again, you allow the hollow eyes of Dwight find yours in that desperate need for something.
But after time, those eyes didn’t look at you with love, there was no spark or adoration on them just the used of company, and you killed each other by no loving each other enough.
But now, you felt lifeless and ashamed of what you had chose for yourself. Honesty felt so cruel because was tearing you apart, and it felt particularly cruel because it was a reminder of how you were never enough to anybody.
"Mom, what happened? Why are you crying?" Tara asked when she stepped into the house, coming back from school.
You didn’t even notice the sound of the door being closed, just the touch of your concerned daughter touching your shoulder as a source of comfort.
You tried to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that had escaped. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Just a tough day."
Tara, ever perceptive, wasn't easily convinced. She approached you, her eyes searching yours for an honest answer. "Mom, I know something's wrong. You can talk to me."
The vulnerability in Tara's voice tugged at your heart, and you realized that keeping everything bottled up was affecting not only you but your daughter as well. The cruel truth was going to see the light of the day, but you weren’t going to be the one taking responsibility for Dwight’s actions. Taking a deep breath, you look at Tara, inviting her to sit next to you.
"It's about your father and me," you began, choosing your words carefully. “I’m divorcing your father.”
Tara's eyes widened, a mix of shock and sadness flickering across her face. “What? Why?”
You sighed, grappling with the difficulty of explaining the complexities of adult relationships to your daughter. "Sometimes, adults face challenges, and they make choices that hurt others. Your father and I have reached a point where we need to go our separate ways."
Tara's gaze remained fixed on you, absorbing the weight of your words, and before she could say something, the sound of the door opening made you turn your attention, and there stood Dwight, his face desperate and fearing the worst once he took the image in front of him. The tears on your face and Tara’s expression.
"Why are you telling her?" Dwight burst out, his voice edged with anger. "She's just a kid!"
You shot him a stern look, defending your decision. "She deserves to know the truth, Dwight. It's not fair to keep her in the dark about what's happening in our family."
Tara looked between the two of you, her eyes wide with confusion and concern. "Dad, what's going on?"
Dwight's frustration escalated, and he glared at you. "You're poisoning her mind against me, making me the villain in this."
Tara's expression morphed into sadness and disappointment as she looked at her father. "Dad, just tell me the truth. What's happening?"
Dwight hesitated, realizing that the truth was inevitable. "We're having some problems, Tara. Your mom and I are trying to figure things out."
“Stop lying and act like a fucking man!” You exclaimed, frustrated by this situation. “I’ll go upstairs, and when I came back here, you must have told her the truth.” Your determination changed something in Dwight’s expression.
You went upstairs, leaving Dwight and Tara alone in the living room. The weight of the situation lingered in the air as you ascended the staircase, knowing that the inevitable truth would surface. Tara was going to suffer, and Dwight had to face the consequences of his actions and confront the reality of his choices.
As you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn't help but sob. There was anger and fury rustling your emotions. But amidst it all, there was concern for Tara; you had to be strong for her and act as an adult.
While you took a moment to collect yourself in your room, downstairs, Tara pressed Dwight for answers, her young eyes searching for clarity in the chaos.
"Dad, what's really going on?" Tara asked with urgency in her voice.
Dwight, cornered by the truth, took a deep breath before responding, "Your mom and I have been having problems for a while. We're trying to figure things out, but she is making it complicated."
Tara frowned, sensing the weight of his father’s lies. For her, you were a victim of a bad love story. "Is it because of another woman?"
Dwight hesitated, his eyes avoiding direct contact with Tara's gaze. "It's more complicated than that."
“What could it be more complicated than cheating on my mom?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows. "You're trash, dad. How could you do this to Mom? To us?" she demanded, her eyes filled with a maturity that exceeded her thirteen years old.
"I messed up, Tara," Dwight admitted, his voice carrying the weight of regret. "I made some wrong choices.”
Tara's expression hardened with evident disappointment. "I can't believe you would do this to her.”
"Tara,” he whispered, but she had already left the living room.
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The tension seemed to be haunting the entire house; a breathing, tainted air of unfaithful lies suffocated you, passing back and forth inside the room, fitting all the pain inside.
Dwight retreated to the bedroom without closing the door behind him. You took some distance from him, creating an emotional barrier between you and your soon-to-be ex-husband.
You were there by the door, like you were just a kid facing the anger of a mad father.
“I suppose you’re happy with what you caused." Dwight spitted, turning the blame on you: “Tara calls me trash, trash! I’m his father, for fuck’s sake.”
“Perhaps she saw the truth behind your pretty face.” Your voice, so insensitive yet fueled by disappointment, threatened to cause a fire with each word you threw against him. “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for what you did.”
Dwight, torn between guilt and the remnants of his wounded pride, attempted to justify his actions. "It's not that simple, okay? Things have been complicated, and I made mistakes."
“Having a daughter with another woman and having a secret family is not a mistake but a choice,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I never meant for it to get this far. It just happened."
“What would your little girl say if she could hear you calling her a mistake, Dwight?” anger bubbling within you."
His expression shifted from defensiveness to frustration. "I get it, okay? I messed up, but you don't have to make this any more difficult than it already is."
"You've shattered our family, Dwight. Tara deserves better than this." As always, you were putting your daughter before yourself.
“She does, but you don't,” he shot back. “You never loved me. How do you think I felt all this time when I woke up to you looking at pictures from your past, from your lover?” Dwight's frustration escalated, and he paced around the room, his hands running through his hair in a display of exasperation. "You never loved me. You were always stuck in the past. How do you think that made me feel?"
Your jaw clenched, and your eyes narrowed at Dwight's attempt to turn the tables on you. "This is not about me and Joel! I didn’t see you until that day Tara got that problem at school.”
“I don’t care! I got tired of you, and I found a woman who cared about me.”
"What I even was to you, Dwight?" You questioned, and your voice broke at the hurt and the feeling of being a small kid being threatened. The room, still echoing with the remnants of the heated argument, seemed to punish you.
Dwight's face contorted with a combination of emotions, from defensiveness to guilt, and a lingering pride that fueled his attempts to justify his actions. "You were supposed to be my wife, the mother of my child. But all you cared about was your past and that guy, and I was the man you found a way to fill that void inside you."
"Then why are you here?" you asked, the pain and confusion evident in your voice. The room felt like a battleground of dirty, shattered lies and promises.
Dwight hesitated, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing his face. "I thought I could have both. I thought I could keep you and have this other life."
Your incredulous gaze met his, who stood silently, looking at you for some answer, perhaps a beg.
"You can't have it all, Dwight," you asserted, your tone firm. "Life doesn't work that way. Choices have consequences."
Then there was silence, and silence is the most devasting sound when you can’t repair the damage. There was no need for more words, not more fights.
“I’ll stay in this house until I find a place to stay, then you can come and live with your new wife and daughter.”
You made a move to leave the room, to find solace elsewhere, away from the chaos Dwight had unleashed upon your lives.
But Dwight, desperate and unwilling to accept the consequences, blocked your path. "You're not going anywhere. We need to talk about this."
Frustration boiled within you again, and you pushed against Dwight's attempt to keep you in the room. "It’s over, Dwight.”
“You’re my wife,” he said, tightening his grip on your arm with such anger in his eyes. "You can't just walk away. We're married, damn it!"
Your eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and fear. "Marriage is built on trust, Dwight, and you shattered that trust. You made your choices, and now you have to live with the consequences."
The struggle for dominance continued, both emotionally and physically, as Dwight refused to release his hold on you. In that moment, the facade of the once-happy family crumbled, revealing the ugly truth beneath.
You closed your eyes in instinct, waiting for the hard touch of his hand on your face, but all you felt was the loosening of Dwight’s strong grip on your arm, and when you opened your eyes again, there was Joel between you and the man who had caused so much pain. There was an unspoken anger in Joel’s eyes; he would not stand by and let anyone harm you.
"If you ever think of it, put a finger on her, and I will smack your face," Joel warned, his voice firm.
Dwight laughed at Joel’s attitude, finding it both amusing and offensive. “Do you really think I was going to hurt her?”
Joel's jaw tightened at Dwight's dismissive laughter. The air in the room crackled with tension, and the weight of the betrayal you had just experienced hung heavy in the atmosphere.
"I've seen enough to know you're capable of causing harm," Joel retorted, his voice laced with restrained anger. The lines were etched on his face.
“Are you going to say something?” Dwight asked towards you, ignoring Joel.
You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting Dwight's with hurt. "It's over, Dwight. There's nothing more to say. We're done."
Dwight's face contorted with a mix of frustration and regret. He seemed to be torn between attempting to salvage what was left and accepting the consequences of his actions.
Joel, still standing protectively in front of you, spoke up with a calm yet firm tone. "She's made her decision. Leave.”
Dwight, feeling the weight of defeat, left the room with a resentful glance, muttering under his breath. "Enjoy it while you can. The only reason I’m behaving is because Tara is the house.”
Joel's jaw clenched, and a flicker of anger danced in his eyes, but he held his composure. He didn't want to escalate the situation further. Instead, he focused on you.
Once Dwight left the bedroom, your only thought was Tara. “Where is Tara?” You asked mostly to yourself than Joel.
"Relax; she is in my truck. She is fine,” he assured, gently stroking his thumbs on your shoulders.
Joel's reassuring words offered a momentary comfort. The weight of the newfound truth was heavily on your shoulders, and your concern for Tara fueled your urgency.
"Why are you here?" you asked, this time finding Joel's gaze.
He sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. "I came here because you didn't answer my messages or calls. I was worried about you, Doe. Something felt off."
Gratitude and regret were displayed on your face as the events of the day settled in. "I didn't want to involve you in this mess."
Joel shook his head, his expression softening. "Doe, what happened?”
But instead of words, a sob escaped from your lips. Finding solace in Joel’s presence made your feelings overwhelm you. Joel pulled you into a comforting embrace, allowing the tears to flow freely.
“Dwight was cheating on me, Joel. He had another family,” you mumbled on his shoulder. The crumbling of your marriage and the betrayal you experienced all poured out in that moment.
"I'm here for you, Doe," Joel whispered, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of chaos. "You don't have to face this alone."
As the sobs subsided, you pulled away, wiping away the tears, and your gazes connected.
Joel's gaze held a mixture of concern and empathy. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face; his touch was gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry you're going through this, Doe. You don't deserve any of it."
The vulnerability in that moment deepened the connection between you and Joel. Despite the years that had passed, the emotional intimacy you once shared resurfaced. His thumb traced a soft pattern on your cheek.
“I don’t want to sleep here,” you roared, hugging Joel tightly.
“You won't,” he said, kissing your temple. “You and Tara can stay with me tonight.”
Joel held you in his arms, offering the missing warmth from your life, feeling like a roof in the middle of a storm. The weight of the pain and betrayal you had just experienced slowly eased as he whispered reassurances. "You won't have to go through this alone, Doe. I'm here for you, whatever you need."
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It was almost summer; holidays were coming, and you felt brave enough to make confessions of love. There was a guy from school, and you were convinced that he reciprocated your feelings. The anticipation of young love and the butterflies in your stomach didn’t lie. As you mustered the courage to confess your feelings, reality unfolded in a way you hadn't expected.
That guy made fun of you in front of everyone, leaving you with shame.
In the quiet corner of the park, where Joel and you often hang out, you poured your heart out to Joel. The guy you liked had not only rejected your feelings but did so in a cruel manner, making a public spectacle of them.
By this time, both of you were sixteen, and Joel felt the weight of your pain. Although he had been secretly developing feelings for you, his priority was to shield you from unnecessary hurt. In that moment of heartbreak, he became your protector.
With a protective arm around your shoulders, Joel offered a comforting presence, his own heart silently breaking at the sight of your tears. He didn't utter words of love, not wanting to complicate an already painful situation, but his actions spoke louder. Joel stood between you and the judgmental eyes of your peers, ensuring that you wouldn't face the humiliation alone.
"You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are, Doe. That guy doesn't know what he's missing."
It’s me who can see through you.
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The evening settled into a quiet calmness as the memories of the tumultuous day began to fade. The soft glow of dim lights in Joel's house created a comforting atmosphere, providing solace in the midst of the storm.
Joel, always caring for your emotions, approached you gently. "Sarah and Tara fell asleep," he informed, his voice a soothing murmur. "Do you want to share a glass of wine? It might help ease the weight of the day."
You nodded, appreciating the offer of a small respite. Following Joel to the cozy living room, you found solace in the warm ambiance of a place that felt like home. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating a sense of intimacy that contrasted with the chaos you brought with you.
As Joel poured the wine, you couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn your life had taken. The comfort of friendship, which had evolved into something deeper again, provided a steady anchor in the storm. Joel handed you a glass, his eyes reflecting concern for you.
"To resilience," he proposed, raising his glass in a silent toast.
You reciprocated, clinking the glasses with a small smile on your face. The velvety red wine offered a taste of familiarity, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there were still constants in your life.
"It's funny how life works, isn't it? That we found each other again." You began, breaking the silence.
Joel nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I never stopped caring about you, Doe. Even when we were apart, there was always this connection that transcended time and distance. I guess our bond is meant to be."
As you shared the stories of your personal lives without each other for the last few years, the unspoken truth lingered in the air—the bond between you and Joel was more than the forceful friendship you were trying to recover; there was something else still taunting the beating of your hearts when you were together. It was a connection that had weathered the storms of life—an invisible thread woven your paths together.
"You were there for me, and I didn’t fight for you that night,” Joel admitted, his voice carrying the weight of his regret. "And, truth be told, I never really got over you."
The weight of Joel's confession hung in the air. He had already told you that he still loved you, but this time, his admission felt personal, opening a door to a realm of emotions that had long been kept at bay.
You looked into Joel's eyes, a mixture of surprise and realization flickering in your gaze. The atmosphere seemed to shift, the quiet acknowledgment of a shared history merging with the present.
Perhaps a second chance.
There you were, after years of the night you left the house, you both shared the confession of love you waited to hear the most—the regret and the sadness. In the soft glow of candlelight, Joel's expression mirrored the vulnerability you felt. The unspoken emotions hung between you, bridging the gap of time and space that had kept your hearts apart. The weight of his words lingered, unraveling the layers of history and emotions that had shaped your lives.
"I always wondered what could have been," Joel admitted, his gaze unwavering.
As the weight of unspoken confessions hung in the air, you felt a surge of emotions pushing you to bridge the gap that had separated you and Joel for so long. The vulnerability of the moment, the shared history, and the admission of lingering feelings created a magnetic pull you couldn’t ignore.
With no rings and no faithful promises to keep with another man, you felt free.
Leaning in, you found yourself drawn to Joel, a longing that transcended the years apart. The soft glow of candlelight flickered in the room, casting a warm ambiance on the faces of two souls entwined and meant to be together again.
As you looked at him, you got lost in the dark starry universe his gaze held, the stars and constellations written the words he didn’t say to you in the past, and without a warning, you leaned in, but for your surprise and also shame, Joel pulled back, eyes wide, mouth open.
Oh.
“Oh god,” you said, holding your tears and face behind your sacred palms, hiding from the cruel joke you felt toward the world today.
"I can't, Doe," Joel whispered, his voice carrying a sense of restraint. His gaze, though filled with a depth of emotion, conveyed a silent plea for understanding.
Confusion and a tinge of hurt flickered in your eyes as you retreated, the space between you now feeling deeper than ever before.
"I understand," you murmured, a faint smile attempting to mask the disappointment that lingered beneath the surface.
Joel watched you, his heart heavy with a mix of regret and a profound desire to ease the pain that etched your features. But Joel wanted to kiss you and worship every single inch of you, but he wasn’t able to give in under your state, yet he was so vulnerable, and a deep ache settled in his chest. He wanted to be the solace you needed, but the weight of the moment and the chaos of the day made him hesitate.
He didn’t want to take advantage of you.
"I want to be there for you, Doe," Joel said softly, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. "But not like this. You deserve more than a rushed moment in the midst of all this chaos."
His words carried a sincerity that echoed in the quiet room. Joel had waited years to express his feelings, and now, with the universe conspiring against both of you, the timing felt painfully wrong.
You lowered your hands, meeting Joel's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that surrounded you. The connection you shared held a delicate balance.
“I’ll go to sleep,” you said, feeling the exhaustion that permeated every fiber of your being. The weight of the day, the end of your marriage, and the nice words of Joel.
“Goodnight, Doe," Joel said, his voice a soothing presence.
You nodded and said, "Goodnight, Joel.”
++++
Upstairs, unbeknownst to you and Joel, Sara and Tara huddled together, peeking from upstairs, watching the scene unfold in the living room. The girls exchanged concerned glances, sensing the gravity of the situation.
"Dad is such an idiot," Sarah whispered to Tara, her young eyes wide with frustration.
Tara nodded in agreement, her own eyes reflecting on the events of today.
Sarah leaned in closer, her mind buzzing with an idea. "We should do something to help your mom and my dad be together again.”
Tara's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Like what?"
A mischievous grin formed on Sara's face. "We'll be matchmakers! We'll get them together. They obviously still love each other, and it's about time someone did something."
Tara hesitated, glancing back at the living room, where you had just retreated. "But won't your dad be mad?"
Sara shook her head. "Of course not; he would have his girl back."
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tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99
@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick
@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx @luvwanda @sarahhxx03
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lvlyghost · 10 months
Text
One Last Time
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader.
Summary: You and Ghost go on your first mission since your break up.
Word Count: 1k
Tw: angst, hurt with very little comfort. suggestive themes. ghost being cold hearted. reader's call sign is starlight. not proofread 👻🌸
A/N: Finished this in one sitting lol, just couldn't stop thinking about it so forgive me if it's all over the place, i totally didn't write while listening to champagne problems🫶🏻✨💞enjoy
Masterlist✨
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The sun's starting to hide on the horizon, casting pink and orange shadows against the concrete walls of the abandoned building you're currently hiding in. You sort of wish you at least had your earphones. Anything to help you swallow the tense silence that's fallen between you and Ghost.
Both leaning against opposite walls, waiting until it's safe enough to go out and reunite with your team. You cross your legs, shifting in your place to a more comfortable position. The temperature slowly decreasing as the yellow burning star in the sky disappears. You didn't mind Ghost's presence. You liked him. And he liked you too; perhaps way too much for your own good.
But not after what happened.
Not after that night –12th of June–, just one week ago. When he had decided that this –your relationship– had no future. And it hurt like hell. Your ever present smile faded when you came to his barracks ready to spend another night under the covers, admiring each other. You loved him it physically pains you. He had greeted you with that stoic face of his, grabbed you gently by the arm and pulled you inside only to break your heart.
Ghost pulls his mask over his lips to take a sip from his canteen, you divert your gaze not liking what his mouth reminds you of.
You don't get to see him anymore. Not in the way he only let you. You don't get to hear his deep chuckles, or how his chest rumbles when he does. You can no longer have the pleasure of touching his pale features; or feel the stubble that adorns his jaw under your hands. Never again will his hands travel down your body nor hold you when you have a nightmare. Shared lunches at the cafeteria with the team.
Maybe it all became too much in the end.
What were you supposed to say, to do now? Act as if nothing happened? You swallow. Your heart is beating fast so you force yourself to breathe deeply.
"You okay sergeant?" He finally asks, staring straight to you. Ghost's right arm resting atop his leg, the other one splayed in front of him. The intensity of his gaze never leaves your form.
"Yeah. Just tired, Lt." You lie. Because you're not tired at all. you're heartbroken.
"Sleep then." Ghost barely does so it feel almost selfish to do it.
"I'm fine." You murmur, looking everywhere but at him.
"Look at me when I speak to you." Your eyes snap to his. Wide-eyed you fight back an insult. How dare he? "I'm still your superior out here." So you wait. You wait for him to break first. Had you been paying attention to his demeanor for the past week; you would've noticed the cracks on his façade. No one knew like you did.
But you refused to look at him ever since that Friday night. "Whatever happened that night it stays there. Don't bring that shite here."
"With all due respect, Lt." You pause feeling the tears welling in your eyes. "Shut the fuck up."
Silence falls again. Ghost's hand balls into a fist, jaw tightening so hard you can hear the bones crack as an overwhelming press on his chest settles. He had never meant to hurt you, but things were getting too serious, you were getting too close. He couldn't afford to have something like that; Ghost knew what it meant to let someone too close. And he broke that rule. You plagued his mind, his space and feelings.
Too bloody close.
"That all you've got, kid?" He ask firmly. "Try again. I'll give you another chance. Thought you more than anyone would understand."
You're shaking. Astonished by his words. The pain is unbearable. You laugh with no emotion.
"What am I supposed to understand, Ghost?"
"Why it can't be."
Shaking your head in denial you stand up, not thinking about the consequences, too enraged. Ghost is quicker though. Jumping from where he was sitting he grabs you by the straps of your combat vest and yanking you down with him. His nostrils flare from underneath the balaclava, eyes boring into yours. His visceral reaction sinks deep inside.
"There's a potential sniper out there. You trying to get killed?" He hisses through gritted teeth.
You slap his hand away from your vest, yet you don't move away from where you sit between his legs.
"Thought you didn't give a shit about me."
"You're bloody blind if you think I don't care about you."
"You don't!" You bite back. "If you cared for me in the slightest you wouldn't have tossed me out like I'm a stranger! Like nothing we went through ever mattered to you." His body goes stiff as you keep talking. "I loved you..."
Ghost can't bear the way you tremble in his arms, watching you sob. In pain. Because of him.
"I told you not to get close to me. I knew from the beginning I'd hurt you... not because I wanted to. I don't know how to do this. I wish I could be better for you, but I can't, it's all I've been my entire life. My biggest regret is that I started to care for you somewhere along the line; and when I realized, it was too late." He pauses. "Forgive me." The words echo in your ears, paralyzing your entire limbs. "I know you're hurt," he whispers your name. Not your callsign. Your real name. The one he adores to call you when he's buried deep inside you, and you cling to him like he's everything. "I don't deserve you, not even the smallest part of you." He holds you closer, you're still not looking at him, the weight of his words... it's too much.
"It was real, Simon." Your voice is soft and very quiet. "All this time it was real to me. Just because you were afraid..."
"I am fucking scared!" He yells. "Can't bloody see it?! If I lose you...-" you look up at him, mouth agape forcing as much air as you can inside your lungs. "How do I make it right?" He questions. "It was real to me too. Too fucking real."
As angry as you're feeling, broken and betrayed you bring a hand up to his pained features, lifting the mask so you can feel his warm skin again. Ghost's eyes are frantic, waiting for you to speak.
"Let me in."
Staring in the pitch black darkness, silence reigns yet again.
One last chance, that's all you need.
"Ghost, Starlight, sitrep." When no one answers the radio crackles again. "Hostiles coming your way, get ready."
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lovingrosewho · 10 months
Text
Framed
Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)
ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Word count: 3467
Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).
Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)
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“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.
It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.
SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.
“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.
“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.
“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.
The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.
“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”
“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.
The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.
“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”
“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.
“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.
“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.
The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.
You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.
You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.
You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.
Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.
“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.
“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.
The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.
“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.
With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.
“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.
“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.
“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”
“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.
“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.
“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.
When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.
“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.
Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.
“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.
“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”
He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.
“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.
“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.
“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.
“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.
SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.
“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.
“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.
“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.
“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.
“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”
He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.
“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.
SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.
Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.
Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.
Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.
He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.
He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.
“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.
“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.
“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.
His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.
When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.
“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.
God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?
You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.
Meanwhile, you’re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?
You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.
“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.
It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.
You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.
“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”
He looks at you in disbelief.
“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.
Of course, he remembers. Twenties.
That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.
“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”
“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.
He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.
“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.
You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.
“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.
After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.
“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.
“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.
“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.
“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.
“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.
“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.
“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”
“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”
He chuckles.
“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”
You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.
MASTERLIST
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hoshiseon · 4 months
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desire ; preview
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♰ pairings :: ot8 vampire!ateez x fem!witch!reader
♰ genre :: dark fantasy, smut, strangers to ?? to lovers, fluff, maybe slight angst?, soulmates/fated lovers
♰ content :: polyamory, references to religious themes, all of them are kinda down bad... some more than others, reader is enamored with them (i'll add more by chapter, they're not written yet)
♰ word count :: 580
♰ note :: all of the descriptions are general as this is the preview, please read the warnings for each chapter!! this is my first time not writing in third person :,) each chapter will probably focus of different sets of members. the chapters aren't planned, i'm writing this as i go so pls be patient. i'm not sure how many chapters there'll be. feedback is greatly appreciated and i should have the first chapter up very soon!! ♡
♰ gen. warnings :: blood, violence, predator/prey dynamics (non sexual & possibly sexual in later chapters), fear, anxiety, sight obsession, stalking, general dark themes, manipulation (non sexual)
☽ smut warnings by chapter, MDNI!!
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as i look around confusedly, i forget that there was a small chance i was being followed by something. instead astonishment replaces the fear as i look around. but not for long. i start to hear the distinct sound of crunching leaves coming from my right. this time my entire body freezes for a fraction of a second and i do not turn to see whatever it is coming for me. instead i turn left and start to run. as i sprint through the tree line, i make it long enough that the clearing behind me starts to morph back into endless trees.
but turning back to look proves to be a mistake as i trip once again and fall, unable to catch myself as i collide with the ground. sharp pain shoots through my knee again and i know this time i would not just have a bruise. i wince and cry as i push into the dirt to roll onto my back. through my fear, i could only hear my boots making contact with the earth beneath me but now that i am still i can definitely hear the pursuit of something coming towards me. it doesn't sound like running but then again i may not be able to hear over the sound of my own pounding heart and heaving breaths. i attempt to scramble to my feet and push through the pain in my leg but i can only manage a weak limping jog. i feel tears pool in my eyes as i stop to lean my side against a tree. there's just no way i'll make it to my cabin like this. and there's no way i'd beat whatever it is that's following me. as the pain in my knee starts to throb, i sink lower until i'm sitting with my back against the tree.
through my wallowing i failed to realize that the sound from before had stopped. as i turn my head to look around, i spot a silhouette to my left. back from where i originally started running. it looks like.... a person? who in their right mind would be out this far? it seems like the seconds drag on as i stare wordlessly at the unmoving figure. i have no options to weigh so i wait. for impending doom most certainly. but there's nothing i can really do. trying to get up again really isn't practical and would just alert them to my location, if they don't see me already. i blink and suddenly the figure looks a lot closer than they were a second ago. no... my mind is playing tricks on me no one moves that fast. my heart rate kicks into high gear as the figure starts to become larger. they're definitely getting closer. my reflexes kick in and i scramble with no success to get onto my feet. i hear my breath stutter and a cry threatens to leave my lips as the figure finally really comes into view and then stops. though it's still very dark, they're close enough now that i can see the person is a man. he's human looking... enough. but that doesn't really quell my fear. he's still not close enough that he could hear me if i spoke in a normal tone but i shouldn't get my hopes up. i watch as his head tilts to the side for a second before he starts to walk, much slower now, towards me.
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dilftaroooo · 2 months
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Ino craves you but you always liked to tease
★tags: ino is whipped yall + sub!ino + dom!reader + afab reader + fingering + mask kink + my first time writing for ino, so pls be g-gentle with me.
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Takuma does what he’s told. If he’s ordered to stand, he’ll stand. If he’s ordered to jump, he’ll jump. If he’s ordered to sit on his knees and take the only front-row seat of you fingering your drooling pussy, then the seat is already taken.
“Don’t lick or touch until I tell you to.” Your tone refrains him from even thinking about stubbornly rebelling against you. There’s a hindrance in your blunt demeanor with each weak point you hit with languid digits, but it’s there regardless, still a looming overcast that darkens his view from brilliant sun rays. It rains ever so slightly but when it pours, he makes sure to cherish the wet taps draping across his skin.
He’s weak in this state, enough to mumble out a puny ‘yes ma’am’ that's barely a pitch louder than the sloshing of bodily wetness. You’re loud. And you’re dirtying the couch; it was a hand-me-down but his nostalgic memories are still engraved in that ragged cushion. That doesn’t make him no never mind though.
Consider it pleasurable torture because the growth between his legs ache with a sense of carnal urge, wanting to be freed from the confinements of fabric and kissed by weeping lips of sin to wash that disgruntled pain away. 
But that pain only grows as you continue to flick, probe, and pinch at every delicate inch of fragile skin while coffee brown hues gaze up in delight, dare he say, honored to witness a beauty as enticing as you. The fat around your thighs and tummy seems grabbable and the erect nubs on your chest begged to be sucked.
Saucers widen to plates as Takuma’s astonished eyes feed off of the display in front of him. He’s internally waiting for your word, your order to wrap his hungry lips around your hard clitoris and lap greedily along the path of your labia.
He’s ready to feel your fingers grip the roots of his locks once he graces you in eager swipes and rattles you with grunts that ring through your heated body, keens oozing from your lips like warm chocolate drizzling onto his awaiting tongue–he’s drooling like a wet dog. Perhaps from both your juicy cunt and that blatant chocolate simile.
With a look so desperate, you must’ve picked up his heavy pants because they were starting to sound pathetic to you.
“Taste me.” And with those words, Takuma could’ve sworn he heard an angel coo against the shell of his ear, he guesses those hushed prayers of you really have been heard!
He crawls tentatively like a newborn kitten, unsure of the world they’ve been born into. He wet his lips, not that it was needed since he’d been salivating this whole session, but call it a force of habit. 
If he couldn’t smell you before then he could now with how the tip of his nose traced the wisp of your pubic hairs that remained unshaven save from the light wax you’ve gotten on your bikini line. The soft scent of sweat provoked a moan from him and he couldn’t help but swoon over how his tongue would pick up each salty bead with shameless content. And he was close to doing so until-
“Stop.” Takuma halts. He believes he’s in the wrong for how your sternness cuts through the sexual tension in the room. “Clearly you’re forgetting something, lover boy.” It takes him a beat to recognize what it is until his eyes land on the black cotton of his mask, almost lying purposely beside you.
Upon putting it on, you hum in delight and spread your legs further. Takuma delves in. Though with the mask acting as a cruel barrier from the treasure he initially seeks, he remains happy to find that he can taste you on his tongue. Your cunt is savory and delectable that he seemingly can’t make any comparisons to anything he’s ever tried. It’s enough to make him want to shrivel into a heap of nothingness, enough to make him fight against an army of guns with the aid of a sword.
A sword that's dull and pertains no prowess but he’d be willing to take that slim chance at victory just for the sake of you.
You bring him to the lowest point of desire and yearning that even sucking your pussy through cotton fabric was enough for him to squirm.
He looks up at his obsession with love-stricken eyes. Eyes that say that he will love you and your pussy forever. And with you singing out to him like a whimsical canary, he’d make sure that his love is what he gives you until the day he’s deemed dead.
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le-92vi · 1 month
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It's You and Me (Part 2)
Suguru Geto x Reader
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Genres/Warnings: hs!suguru, biker!suguru, fem!reader, academic weapon!reader, mostly fluff and banter, v little angst.
Word Count: 3.3k
When your highschool crush moves across the street from you, there's not much option other than befriending him. Especially, when he's the one suggesting it.
Notes: It's me! I'm back, hello.
(Part 1)
----
You had to admit that being around Suguru was easy.
He just had this way of making people around him so comfortable, so heard. And him being a year senior to you came as an additional perk.
He'd help you with your projects and assignments whenever he had the time to spare. His well-polished reputation among teachers at school gave you a free pass to many things you couldn't get, even as the top student of your grade.
He'd introduced you and Maki to his other cool, senior friends, often sitting with you during lunch. Let you know about upcoming events and competitions, grabbing you all the extra credits for the perfect final grade.
Your high school life was passing by like a breeze.
And, if he insisted on helping you to make it easier, who were you to say no?
In turn, you'd treat him with your mom's delicious food all the time. It was a win-win situation for both of you.
Your families--especially your mothers--had grown closer too, they were practically always hanging together, save for the time they went to work. It was like your mom was back in her teenage years with her best friend. And oddly enough, you'd always be reminded of Maki when you saw them.
Everything had progressed into the present so, so naturally, it was almost scary. It had always been an object of your fascination how humans formed bonds with each other so easily and then lived to protect them forever.
"Wait," You placed your fork down in disbelief, "So, you went to school together?"
"We did!" Suguru's mom chuckled at your astonished face. She and Suguru were over for the afternoon, just a small lunch get-together, planned out by your lovely mom. "Sadly, I had to move away after for my final year. My parents wouldn't hear a no."
"That's crazy." You were unsure of how to process the piece of information you were presented. You turned to look at Suguru, who was nonchalantly still indulging in his food. "You knew?"
He looked up from his plate, cocking an eyebrow, "I just assumed they knew each other from somewhere, not that they were already friends. I would've never guessed that one!"
"Right? I mean, what are the chances of moving across your best friend from high school?" You mused.
"Well, It was hardly a coincidence," Your mom chimed in, amused by your antics. "We did keep in touch after she moved away, honey. How old do you think we are? We had emails."
"Yeah, and we had been planning to move back here, sooner or later." Mrs. Geto spoke. "Suguru's eventually leaving for college, so we thought a little change wouldn't hurt."
"And by little, she means 30 more minutes of commute to school every day," Suguru contorted his face playfully at his mother, earning a slap on the shoulder.
"We did ask for your opinion, mister!" She defended herself.
And, so the lunchtime chit-chat continued. But your mind stayed hung up on that one sentence.
Suguru is eventually leaving for college.
He won't forever be your next-door neighbor who helps you with homework and brings you to get takeout with his friends. He won't be at your house for these little luncheons soon enough. And, he won't be around to hang out with you forever, soon enough.
Of course, he would visit when he had time and you could talk on the phone, but you knew things wouldn't be the same once he left for college. He'd have a completely new life there. Would he even want you to be a part of it? Would he call? Would he have any time to think of you, or his friends?
Would you ever see him again, after he moves for college?
As his (secret) admirer, it was a painful realization, but more so as his friend.
A mere, off-handed comment hit you like an arrow, straight to the heart. You didn't even realize how much a single sentence could affect you, until Suguru shook you by the shoulder, jolting you awake from your daydream, "Where are you?" He looked at you with a slightly confused expression, wondering what you were so lost in thought about. "You said the other day you wanted help with your physics assignment?"
You were--evidently-- not used to dealing with a situation like this.
When you realized Suguru was your next-door neighbor, you were repulsed by the idea of it, the first thing. You liked him. Maybe it was even enough to call it a crush but, feelings are scary, man! Constantly seeing him around would only accelerate your feelings for him.
You didn't want that. You couldn't be distracted. You wouldn't let him distract you. And, certainly, you wouldn't become one for him, either.
"I think I told Maki I'd call her." you brushed off his question.
***
"Yes, but now I don't Iike him like that anymore…" you were plopped on your bed, on a call with your one and only.
Suguru had left earlier to meet up with his friends. You'd pass on the offer, saying you had homework to complete, which was partially true.
You turned around to lay on your stomach, head resting against your free hand, ranting like she was your therapist, "I just don't understand why I'm acting this way, Maki"
"Didn't you just say, you don't like him like that? I don't see the problem?" She spoke calmly. She always did.
Even if you cried to her about the most random stuff, she'd always listen to you and never judge you for it. Well maybe, she did judge you a little but that's just what friends are for. "Have you considered the possibility that you're still not completely over him and want him to be around longer?"
You hummed in response, repeating after her. "Umm, I'm not sure where you are trying to go with this, but it's not that."
"I think you're just confused. You used to like him, but now that you actually know him he's not your type, so you're just confused." She finished, emphasizing the last part.
"You sound experienced." You chuckled, trying to get a rise out of her.
And, just as if she could see right through you. She cleared her throat, "We are not doing this again," putting on her sternest voice.
***
"Did you miss the bus?" Suguru inquired as he straddled his bike across the street.
"Looks like it," Your hands shot up with dejection.
What could you do?
Both your parents were off to their offices right before you rushed off to school, yourself. "I swear I was out on time."
"I can't believe I get to witness a sight like this, Ms. Perfect missing her bus to school." Suguru snickered as he got off his bike to walk back inside his garage.
He's been hanging out with Maki too much.
You were already crossing over to his house when he emerged from the garage with a skating helmet. "That won't protect my head from a truck," you chuckle.
"Might protect the truck, who knows?" He shrugged. "Who knew there'd come a time that you'd need a ride? I would've been prepared."
He placed the helmet on your head and buckled it securely before revving up the bike's engine, "Hop on," He patted the seat.
With a sigh you climbed his bike, sitting behind him. Your hands gripped a part of the seat behind you to find some sort of balance.
This was as nerve-wracking as it was new to you. Sitting on a bike.
On Suguru Geto's bike!
"What are we waiting for?" You turned to get a look at his face, which was shielded with a helmet.
"You'll fall off if you sit like that," he commented, pushing his visor down.
"How else am I supposed to sit on a bike, then, Suguru?" You sounded annoyed, as you stole a glance at your wristwatch. You were already late. "I'd be really thankful if you get us to school on time."
"I know, so just hold onto me, or something." He turned around to look at you with his visors still blocking you from getting a look at his face. You couldn't make out from his tone if he was getting annoyed at you, or laughing.
"I'm entrusting you with my life. Is that not enough?"
"Oh my god! Just hold onto me. It's not that deep!"
"Alright!" your hands snaked around his waist, awkwardly unsure of how to be. Sure, you were friends but friends don't get a feel of each others' waists, do they? Do you rest your palm against his abdomen, or do you hold your hands in front of him?
Your mind wreaked as you fidgeted with your hands.
Suguru must've noticed.
He removed his hands from the bike and placed them on yours. He crossed your arms flat around his waist, so you were practically back-hugging him now.
You could feel each and every crevice of his abdomen, and it was messing with your brain. His hand rested on top of yours until he was sure you wouldn't take them off anymore.
You could smell his cologne and his shampoo from how close you were to him. You felt a small laugh vibrate through his body as he revved the engine one last time and finally made his way to school.
You were definitely late.
***
You were completely zoned out when the teacher called your name for the third time.
"I get that it's been a long day. I do, but--" She closed her textbook with a sigh, seeing the drowsy and listless bunch sitting in front of her. "Let's end the class here for today."
And, without missing a beat, the whole class was up and about their businesses for lunch. The teacher shook her head, half in disbelief and half in mirth.
You were packing your stuff to leave as well when the teacher tapped on your desk to get your attention, "Would it be possible for you to drop by the library and get these books for me?" She slid a piece of paper towards you.
Noticing how short the list was, you agreed, "Sure, Ms. Seige. I can drop them off by the end of the lunch break."
You folded the paper, tucked it in your pocket, and bid her goodbye.
You looked at your wristwatch and, noticed that you had a good twenty minutes before lunch began. You could still enjoy with your friends if you quickly dropped off the books in time and rushed to the lunch hall.
Not that fifty minutes for a lunch break was a short time, but you hadn't seen any of them all day, except Suguru, of course.
You greeted Shoko with a hug and handed her the piece of paper with the list of books your teacher wanted, along with a few snacks you had picked for her on your way. She had been a huge help to you for most of the year in finding all the books you were asked to gather by your teachers, being the student in charge of the library.
"Who is it this time?" She unfolded the list, flat on the table.
"Ms. Seige. Physics." You dropped your bag by her chair, as you watched her type away on her computer and scribble some things on the list.
"Oh! She's a good one." She turned in her seat and remarked, as she handed you the list.
"That's rare- you praising a teacher," You chuckled.
"She deserves it," She shrugged, turning back to her work. "Do me a favor and, drag Suguru on your way back. He should be somewhere in the back. Let's get lunch together. I'll text the others."
It was flabbergasting and borderline frustrating how Suguru was so effortlessly smart. "Does he ever attend any of his classes?"
"None that I know of."
"Must be nice…" You muttered to yourself, as you wandered off to find him and your books.
***
Suguru was cooped up in a small corner of the library, sitting-- rather leaning the upper half of his body against the bookshelf. From the looks of it, he must've been in that position for a while. Just looking at his stance made you question everything you knew about him.
How was he sitting-- laying, whatever he was doing-- in that position? What about the book captivated him so much, that he was torturing his back like that?
You quickly slipped your phone out and clicked a picture to show the others later. Placing the books on the nearest table, you slowly crept up behind him, mostly to give him a scare, but you were also very much intrigued by his novel's contents.
A little detour and you were practically breathing down his neck. But, the guy still hadn't a clue.
You were able to easily read into his book from where you were standing.
Touch me, tease me. Feel me up.
Two sentences were enough for you to understand what captured Suguru's undivided attention.
"So you were actually into friction, not fiction!" You mock-whispered in his ear, with every intention to give him a jump scare.
And boy, did it work!
Suguru's shoulder, which supported most of his body weight against the bookshelf, slid from the sudden shock. "What the-- OUch!" He was flat on the ground in a matter of seconds. Yet, that didn't stop him from concealing his book at the sight of you. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
You tried your best to not break into a burst of laughter as you stood straighter, towering above him. "Nothing,"
"Why would you creep up on me like that?" He brushed off his clothes, still trying to tuck away his book. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, all flustered and unmoving. A bright red tinge rose on his neck, face, and ears. He was so red he could qualify as a traffic light.
All you wanted to do was pull out your phone and click another picture, but you decided to spare him the torment. One embarrassing picture in the group chat was enough to rid him of his sleep for a few months. Gojo and Shoko would never let him live this down.
"Oh, come on! Don't act like you wouldn't," You grinned, unable to hold back anymore. You held out your arm towards him, "Be grateful that it was me."
He grabbed your hand as he hoisted himself up. "Did you," he sighed, "read any of it?"
He looked like he was on the verge of tears. One wrong move, and you'd be the first reason Suguru ever let his emotions win.
Your face turned blank, almost mirroring his. But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying teasing him. He wouldn't be upset with you if you told him the truth, right?
That just wasn't like Suguru.
Right?
The corners of your lips curled up into a ghost of a smile, as you looked up at him through your lashes, "Touch me, tease me, feel me up?"
His hands immediately flew to his face, covering up any expression,
"Oh my god!" he whined.
You burst into laughter once again at his unexpected timid behavior. "Suguru," You seized his hands away from his face, "That's all I read. I promise."
His lips turned into a sheepish smile, finally looking at you, "This had to stay between us. Forever!" His hands swung side-to-side, and so did yours, holding onto his as he whined.
You drew your hands back, cringing at his coyness. You had never seen him act like that, and it was kind of creepy. You had to admit.
"Ugh," You mindlessly reacted. "Why are you acting like this?"
Before he could respond, Shoko yelled from her desk up front, "Guys, it's been FIFTEEN years! It doesn't take that long to find three books and a guy!"
You rushed to pick up your books at the sound of her voice, but Suguru caught you by your wrist, "I promise I'll bring you to school and back every day. They can't know," He pleaded.
You could tell how serious he was, just by one look at his face, "I won't." You reassured him. You felt slightly disappointed in yourself for teasing him. Just his expression sat like a heavy weight on your chest. You had no idea a little joke would affect him this much. "You don't have to bring me to school every day. It was meant to be a harmless joke, Suguru."
"I know," He stuck his tongue out at you, walking past you and picking up your books. "Let's go."
This bastard.
He was very much aware of the affect he had on you and used it to the best of his advantage. It took you a whole moment to realize that you had been fooled by his stupidly pretty face.
"Suguru!" You followed after him, but he was already dropping off your book with Shoko and running out of the library.
***
"On a school night? Your parents will ambush everyone," Shoko flicked Gojo's forehead, stopping him from stealing her fries.
"But, this would be our last one!" he theatrically caressed his forehead, turning around frantically to persuade everyone. "They're out of town for the weekend, anyways."
"Still, don't you think it's a little short notice?" You blankly stated. But, who were you kidding?
High school kids from your school would sell their souls to attend one Halloween party thrown by THE GOJO SATORU. There was no such thing as "short notice".
You looked at Maki for some sort of sign, and then towards Shoko.
Your eyes didn't dare look in Suguru's direction. You weren't upset with him. Of course not. Yet, you couldn't. He was never one to talk much, unlike Gojo. It was never easy to understand his true feelings.
"You'll come right?" Suguru nudged your shoulder lightly.
"I don't know," You whispered back.
"Please?" He said leaning ever-so-slightly into you. Looking at you the same way you did, in the library, and his head tilted.
Anything Gojo said after that faded into nothingness, as you looked at Suguru's face. Blood rushed through your whole body so furiously, that you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your face grew uncontrollably hot. Subconsciously, your hands fanned your face and you leaned backward in your seat. That look on his face felt so foreign to you. It was almost like he was playing some sick joke at you.
His smirk grew into a boyish grin. He so knew he could convince you with just a smile. "Hmm?"
You cleared your throat, bringing your focus to your wristwatch. You needed an excuse. Anything. "I have to drop these off," You gathered Ms. Seige's books from the table, as you scrambled to leave.
"I'll go with you-" He began saying, but was cut off by one of his classmates. You were out of earshot but could still make out by the looks of it that she demanded all his attention.
Dissatisfaction greeted with you a warm hug at the sight of him talking to the girl. You hated feeling this way. Why should someone else get to control how you feel? As disappointed as you felt, you didn't let it get to your head. You didn't look back at the group for a second time.
Sure, he could have other friends or girlfriends.
It was none of your business.
Suguru was just a friend to you.
And that's all he'll ever be.
Tags: @mandysfanfics
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