Tumgik
#still no word on when the tagging situation is going to be fixed
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a castle for christmas
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my father is scottish. watching this made me wish he wasn't. maybe then i could pretend that this is something that i am ok with. probably not tho - i might just be ashamed to be associated with this intellectual property through my heritage.
is it particularly offensive? *sighs* i guess not. do i remember most of the plot besides the icky feeling of both watches? nope not at all.
maybe one day i'll drink a lot of bourbon and i'll go for a hat trick so i can do a proper review. that day is not today though, and the voices are screaming for me to articulate exactly how this movie made me feel.
blegh. that's it.
6/10
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cospinol · 2 years
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90% sure it’s another Hbtw Nano year b/c i’m not interested in or thinking abt anything else right now, fully in 24/7 hbtw brain mode, But i’m also at what i would charitably call the Beginning of a complete overhaul of any’s personal lore and motivations / the entire rhea situation, which means huge changes to the entire first arc (again) which i severely doubt will be anywhere near settled by nov @_@;; also recently started thinking about why the hell godseams as a power system work the way they do in literally any capacity + may have to fix that before I move on anywhere (++ I think it’s the cornerstone of the problem I’ve been kind of circling since last year wrt wanting the deities to be more present on earth than they currently can be, but also if that’s true then iloilo’s plan&the entire ‘correct century’ changes nothing/io has nowhere to go back to, so the simple solution doesn’t work) … never satisfied ever lol I think it’ll just be Hbtw Sea So Deep Arc (But Slightly Different This Time) for nano every year for the rest of my life at the point (-﹏-。)
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sttoru · 5 months
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. pussy slapping hcs w the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna) + small drabbles attached.
⋆ tags. dom!character x female reader (separate). smut. pwp. pussy slapping. dirty talk. further warnings before each small drabble. based on an anon request; sorry, tumblr fucked up ⋆ wc. 1.1k total
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
likes to see the facial expressions you make, so he always has you on your back when he does it.
is always teasingly slow. never rushes the process—even if you beg him to satisfy you properly.
the wet sounds your sopping cunt makes, is what he does it for. the view is something he finds rather endearing as well.
tags. mocking. edging. nicknames used; ‘sweetheart,’
“mph! ‘toru, please. . .” your legs shake with each slap to your cunt. satoru’s grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every little noise you make as his palm pats your pussy lightly. he’s going so slow—trying to get on your nerves by not allowing you to cum just yet.
“‘toru, please’,” satoru repeats your words in a high-pitched tone. he giggles at his own tease before planting a sweet kiss on the side of your chest, glazed over eyes still looking down at your cunt. your juices are coating his slender fingers and it takes every ounce of his strength to not lick them off. to taste the sweetness.
the slow slaps and the time interval between them drove you to insanity. the pleasure comes and goes—it’s torturous. satoru pouts as you pout, mirroring your actions with a shit-eating grin, “patience, sweetheart. just a few more, i promise. i’ll fuck you reaaal good afterwards.”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
does it when you least expect it, because that man loves to catch you off guard.
he can be gentle or rough about it—depends on his mood. if he’s in a good mood, the little slaps are meant to stimulate your clit for your own satisfaction. if he’s in a shit mood, the firm slaps are meant as punishment.
tags. p in v. doggy style. condescending tones. nicknames used ‘princess’.
“what now, princess?” suguru murmurs right into your ear. his chest is pressed against your back, one hand slithering down your waist to your hip and between your legs. you’re whining, unlike before, when you had the audacity to hold back your moans and act like you didn’t like what he was doing.
“where’d that attitude go, hm?” suguru grunts, clicking his tongue. you’re bratty today, but he has the solution to fix that. he pulls his hard cock out of your pulsating cunt and leaves you empty. the tips of his fingers glide over your labia instead. you try to grind back against his digits, though was met by a harsh slap instead.
your body jolts at the unexpected slap. not a moment goes by and a second one hits your pussy lips firmly. your moans are muffled by the pillow you’re biting into.
suguru sees you struggle to keep your moans to yourself and chuckles deeply. his jaw clenches and his hand lands harshly on your puffy cunt once more, “keep that attitude up and i’m not stopping until you’re screaming for mercy.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
does it gently, but is so so nasty about it. wouldn’t be surprised if you came just from him slapping your cunt a couple times.
loves to do it when you have your panties still on. that way he can see your wetness through the fabric.
tags. praise. semi-public/exhibitionism kinda. reader wears skirt. nicknames used ‘love, angel’.
“now now, love,” kento kisses the side of your neck gently, urging you to stay still. your back is against his chest and your legs are spread with your skirt flipped up. it’s an embarrassing situation—especially because you’re in his office with your lace panties on display.
the wet spot on the fabric only grows bigger and bigger with each gentle tap of your lover’s palm. kento’s slaps are painfully soft. he knows that it’s agonising for you, but it’s a complete turn-on for him, “you’re doing so well. getting so wet and ready for my cock, mm?”
your eyes roll back from the combination of dirty talk and praise. kento chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. his fingers come in contact with your clothed clit and it makes you squirm. each little slap made you needier. the sorcerer drags his fingers up and down your pussy before slapping it again through your panties;
“if you stay still for me, i promise i’ll give you what you want, okay, angel? for me?”
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
is pretty harsh when doing it. might use his cock to do so too sometimes.
loves to do it when he’s eating you out—gives a couple slaps in between, here and there. right on your clit too.
tags. cunnilingus. degradation. reader gets called ‘little girl’.
“nasty fuckin’ pussy. look at her,” toji scoffs once he pulls his mouth away from your messy cunt. he’s been lapping up your juices for a couple minutes now, the clear fluid smeared all around his lips.
the tip of his tongue drags up and down your slit—tracing circles around your clit. your hands grab onto toji’s black hair, gaining a deep grunt from him. he lifts his hand and slaps your pussy in response, “hands to yrself, little girl.”
you want to comply, but the extra stimulation your body got from that slap only urges you to grip his hair tighter. toji curses under his breath, removes his head from between your thighs and makes it seem like he’s finally going to fuck you—his leaking tip suddenly placed right at your entrance.
well, you guessed wrong. toji’s veiny hand wraps around the base of his cock, only to slap it down on your sensitive clit. you moan at the contact and he answers by doing it again, “hah. thought i was gonna fuck you? nah, ‘m not doing any of that until ya know y’r place.”
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
makes it nasty by spitting on your cunt before slapping it. loves to see the mess the fluids form on your pussy lips.
has you counting the slaps probably too. if you lose count or get it wrong, he’s starting over.
does it again and again until you’re in absolute tears.
tags. true form!sukuna. over-protectiveness. mention of murder. dacryphilia. spit. reader gets called ‘brat’
“what’d i tell you about hanging around with that lowlife?” sukuna grumbles, clearly pissed off. he spits on your cunt that laid open before him. he’d ordered you to wait for him on his bed with your legs spread while he took care of some ‘business’. which was killing that man who dared to speak with you.
“fuckin’ brat. you never listen,” sukuna continues. two of his hands hold your thighs in place, another one rubs his spit all over your aching pussy. he delivers a firm slap to your cunt once it’s coated in his saliva. you whine and whimper, but the king of curses could not care less.
you know what you should do; accept and count the amount of slaps. you do exactly that, though the harsh slaps are too overstimulating for your poor pussy, causing you to sob. sukuna’s eyes have a dangerous and sadistic look in them—clearly enjoying your tears and suffering.
the sounds of your wet flesh getting slapped repeatedly echoes throughout the room. your tears, whines and bodily reactions drive sukuna absolutely insane. he breathes heavily and stops the slaps, “on all fours. now. i’m not repeating myself.”
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fillinforlater · 5 months
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SULLied MINd
Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)
Length: 10.228 words
Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you
TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol
Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness
(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)
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“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”
“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”
“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”
“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”
“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”
“Oops, Sorry.”
The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.
You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.
No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue—white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—
You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.
“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?
“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”
Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair
“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”
“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”
And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—
“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.
“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.
“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”
“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”
“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”
“You—”
Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.
“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”
“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”
“Guys—”
“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”
“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.
“Guys, I—!”
“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”
“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”
An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.
“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.
Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.
“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.
“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?
You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.
“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.
“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”
“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”
“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”
Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.
“Then explain it to me, Minju!”
“Okay, screw it.
“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”
The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—
“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”
“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”
“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”
“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”
“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.
You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.
But you want more.
“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.
“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.
The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.
“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.
“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”
“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.
“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.
“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”
“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”
Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.
But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—
“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.
“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.
“I need the… white stuff.”
“You need the white stuff—from me?”
A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.
“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”
With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.
Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.
“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”
Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”
“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”
“Re-really!?”
“Yes. I wish I could
“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”
They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—
A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.
But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?
This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.
“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”
“Y-yes?”
“I like you, I really, really like you.
“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”
Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.
“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”
“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”
This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.
There is however still—
“Pl-please! Please love me too!”
A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.
The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.
“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?
At least tonight, you do.
“I—
“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.
“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”
“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”
“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.
“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.
All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.
“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”
“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”
“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”
“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”
Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.
After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.
“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”
You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”
“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”
“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.
“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just
“Tell me what you feel.”
Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.
“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”
“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”
You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.
“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”
Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.
Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.
“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”
“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.
“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”
Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.
This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.
“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”
You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.
“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.
“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”
“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.
“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”
No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:
“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.
“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”
“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”
“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”
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At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.
“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”
“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.
You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.
An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.
“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.
Still covered.
Still covered.
“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.
“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.
“Minju, your body looks…
“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”
“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.
Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.
“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:
“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”
“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”
“Re-really?”
“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.
“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”
Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.
“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.
“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”
“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.
“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”
“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”
“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”
Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.
“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.
“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”
“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”
The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.
“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.
“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.
“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”
The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.
“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.
“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”
Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.
While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.
“Have you ever done this, Minju?”
“N-no, never. Not even close.”
“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.
“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.
“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.
“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.
Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.
“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”
“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”
“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”
They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.
Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.
Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.
“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.
In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.
For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.
The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.
Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.
You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.
“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.
Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.
“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”
“You tasht sho good, I want more.”
“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”
Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.
“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”
“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.
“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”
“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…
“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”
“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”
She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.
“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.
“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”
“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.” She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.
“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:
This girl loves you and wants you now.
“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.
“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”
“Sounds—
Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.
“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”
Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.
“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”
“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”
“Actually—”
Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.
“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”
“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”
Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.
You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.
“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”
“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”
“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”
Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.
And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.
“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.
“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~
“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”
Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.
“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.
“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.
“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.
“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.
“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”
“I-I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”
Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?
“I want… you inside of me.”
“Perf—”
“I want you to cum inside of me!”
You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.
“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”
“Well…”
“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”
“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?
Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.
Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.
“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”
“Does it hurt?” you ask her.
“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”
Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”
“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—
But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.
Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.
“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.
Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.
Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.
“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”
She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.
“So big, too much, too much, I—”
Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.
Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.
“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.
She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.
“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.
“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.
“Fuck, Sully—”
“We have to do this every week.”
“Wh-what?”
“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—
“To happen again~?”
Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.
Who could blame you?
1K notes · View notes
ghstzzn · 2 months
Text
princess treatment | c.yj & k.th
pairing(s): choi yeonjun x f!reader x kang taehyun genre: smut, one shot, friends with benefits, porn with context warnings/tags: unprotected sex, threesome, multiple orgasms, rough sex, degradation, oral (m! rec), manhandling, mean doms!taejun, fingering, double penetration, yeonjun is taunting and chatty, taehyun is just mean. petnames (baby & princess) name calling (slut, whore & bitch) ++ clubbing, drinking. also there is not a single kiss or makeout sesh in this lol
summary: the birthday girl gets what she wished for.
note: my dreamsum. god bless the frat boy daddy line. special tag to @sammylvr bc shes been waiting SO long for this & thx for letting me yap for over a month abt this... word count: 3.8k oops
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You had two ideas in mind for how this night could end; either it ending with you blacking out and waking up with possible alcohol poisoning, or with you ending up in a stranger's bed getting the best (most mid) dick of your life.
Again, you had. 
Now, you found yourself playing with fire. Two tall, scorching hot fires. 
A dumb smile played on your lips as you went back and forth between Taehyun and Yeonjun throughout the night. Bending over to softly speak into one of their ears under the claim that the clubs music was too loud, or your touch that lingered on their arms and chest, giggling at whatever they said–even bending over in your tiny black skirt as you reached for your cup of overpriced liquor that you accidentally left on the other side of the table.
You’ve had your fair share of the two men, not knowing ever where your relationship stood with either of them. But, you couldn’t care less, you were young and having fun–plus, everyone and their mothers were aware that you occasionally fuck one of the two best friends. What they don’t know is that it’s been at least a month since the last interaction, physical and verbal, with both of them. 
It wasn’t a huge falling out with them, but it was awkward and eye opening (and very self destructive.) Simply put, you woke up one day and realized you needed to stop fucking two of your closest friends. Though, it didn’t go well with either Yeonjun or Taehyun.
The two were adamant about the entire situation not even meaning anything to them, and that friends could fuck and share their girls without any strings attached or hurt feelings. And while you agreed, you couldn’t hide the disappointment that lingered in your chest. After that conversation, you slowly distanced yourself from the two, hoping that fate would take it into its own hands and fix your friendship for you. They would regularly reach out to you and you wouldn’t always ignore them (you also took Yeonjun in a bathroom at some random house party but no one needed to know.)
You also couldn’t deny the way your body continued to crave them with each. passing. day. It was frustrating–the way you were scared of losing them but still had sinful dreams of them taking your body like it was nothing. Both of them. 
God, you needed them again. 
Tonight started out weirdly. One of your best friends, Yunjin, jokingly suggested you invite the two to your birthday party at the club, but the suggestion turned serious when she said, “wait, but like, what if they actually come?” “Plus, they’d surely open their wallets if they did show up. Just do it!” 
You should’ve expected them to show up though, they were or are some of your closest friends.
It was awkward for you at first, but it wasn’t long before your mind cleared and realized that; fuck it, its your birthday and you deserve to have a little fun. Your plans from earlier completely thrown out the window as your third eye opened and your chakra lined up (a.k.a you totally just wanted to fuck with the two the entire night, again, it’s your birthday and you’re just a girl afterall.)
“How much have you had to drink?” Taehyun asks, his hand on your knee as you sit as close as possible to him in the booth.
“Honestly, not much at all.” 
Taehyun nods slowly at your reply and you just send him a tight lipped smile. A new song starts playing, making you gasp and shout how much you loved this song. Before Taehyun could say anything, you stood up, using his upper thigh to help you stand. He takes a deep breath as he watches you skip away into the crowd, throwing your arms around your friend's neck. His gaze leaves yours, only to find Yeonjun who flickered his eyes between your figure and his own. Taehyun quickly gulps the rest of his drink down before standing, a plan forming in his own mind.
You knew exactly what you were doing
And if you thought they’d have moved on from you–oh, were you dead wrong.
You were quick to notice Taehyun's figure moving around the club, you couldn’t pin down his stone cold expression, whether he was upset or not–no one could know.
You tried to follow your eyes to where he was headed, but the crowded dance floor made it almost impossible. Taking a few deep breaths, you silently decide to tone it down and go back to dancing, hoping to avoid Taehyun and Yeonjun for at least an hour–or the rest of the night. 
But maybe your not-so-innocent game has backfired on you.
You didn’t know how much time passed, but the dance floor was starting to wear you out and you definitely needed a five minute breather. Tapping Yunjin's shoulder, you quickly shout that you were going to go grab a drink, she sends you a thumbs up and you squeeze your way out of the crowd. 
As you near the bar, you notice Taehyun and Yeonjun sitting next to each other. You reach the bar, quickly ordering a water and some random vodka mix. When you turn your head, your eyes meet Yeonjun's, who leaned back against the bar with an arm thrown over the back of the bar stool, sending you a sweet smile. Taehyun followed his line of vision, his eyes scanning over your body as he notices you. The bartender returns with your water and other drink, and feeling pressured by the two men’s gaze, you slowly make your way towards them.
“Ah, there’s the birthday girl!” Yeonjun greets you, “Where have you been, princess? Missed you over here.”
You set your drinks down next to theirs on the bar, throwing a thumb over your shoulder towards the dance floor. “Dancing. It hasn’t even been a full thirty minutes since I last saw the both of you.”
Taehyun takes a swig of his drink before replying, “Thirty minutes drags by when you aren’t running your hands all over the both of us every five minutes.”
You shyly avert your gaze from him, earning a chuckle from Yeonjun.
“Are you guys enjoying your night?” 
You face Taehyun again, expecting an answer from him. Yeonjun stands from his stool, stepping behind you, his breath hitting your ear. You shiver at the sudden closeness.
“That’s what you're curious about?” Taehyun questions, leaning back in his seat.
“Well, I-” 
Yeonjun cuts you off, “What happened to the handsy girl from earlier? Thought you were gonna come over here with more obvious neediness.”
You only bite your bottom lip in response, suddenly feeling hot with Yeonjun's hands ghosting over your waist and Taehyun's gaze burning into you. “Obvious?”
Taehyun lets out a dry laugh at your meak response. You couldn’t linger on his reaction with Yeonjun's fingers trailing down your back, his eyes falling on the miniskirt you were wearing. Suddenly, he pushes you towards Taehyun, softly but still enough to have you stabilize yourself with your hands on his thighs. 
“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling okay?” Taehyun asks. You look at him with confusion written all over your face.
Did he miss how Yeonjun practically threw you at him?
“I’m… fine?” You remove your hands from his thighs, earning a look from him that you can’t quite read.
Yeonjun lays the back of his hand against your cheek, his chest flush with your back. 
“You sure? You’re feeling hot,” he presses, “we should get you home.. Don’t want you getting sick here on your birthday, no?”
You turn halfway to face Yeonjun, blinking at both men. Taehyun was mumbling something about telling your friends that you’d be leaving and grabbing your bag while Yeonjun softly brushed a piece of hair behind your ears, smiling widely at you. 
Sat in between the two in the backseat of an uber, you fiddle with your bag nervously. Yeonjun made small talk with the driver as his hand laid on your thigh, his pinky finger drawing circles right under the hem of your skirt. Taehyun on the other hand had his arm rested against the car door, eyes fixed on your exposed thighs. You only stared straight at the windshield in front of you.
The drive back to Yeonjun’s high rise felt almost suffocating, and not exactly in a bad way. The stunt they pulled back at the club was enough to tell you what was happening next, but when you read their faces–you only see emotions that make you want to apologize.
Leaning into Taehyun slightly as Yeonjun continues his conversation with the driver, you catch his attention, “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to gh-”
“Doesn’t matter now–we can talk about it later if it bugs you that bad.” He cuts you off. You nod and settle back against the seat, Yeonjun’s hand squeezing your thigh as he shoots you a small smirk. He leans back into the seat, ending his conversation with the driver, who ends up turning the radio up.
“You’ll show us how sorry you are, won’t you?” His lips graze your ear, each word sending goosebumps down your neck. 
When you don’t reply, he only asks again, traveling his hand further up your skirt reaching his fingers under the band of your flimsy underwear. You breathe out a small yes, drawing a chuckle out of Yeonjun, who places a kiss against your head.
“Good girl.”
Suddenly, Taehyun is grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car. The journey up to the apartment is a blur as you’re too busy trying to steady your pounding heart.
As soon as you enter the apartment, he throws your bag and any other belongings he was carrying onto the couch while Yeonjun has his hands firmly on your waist from behind. 
“I mean, seriously.” Yeonjun is barely centimeters away from your ears, his hands sliding up your waist to grab at the end of your skimpy top. “One moment she's completely ghosting her two best friends, and the next moment she's all over them like a whore.”
You gulp at his words, the insult going straight to your core. “That’s not–I wasn’t trying to gho-”
“Oh, no baby, it’s okay~.” There’s a pause. “Right, Taehyun?”
You look up from the ground, suddenly inches away from Taehyun. You were now sandwiched in between the two men.
“Get out of that head of yours. You’re the only one convincing yourself that this is wrong.” He repeats the same words spoken the night you brought it all up to them.
The one button holding your entire shirt together was undone in an instant and Yeonjun dragged the top down your arms slowly, making sure to trail his fingers along your skin.
“I’m sure she can make it up to us.” Taehyun replies flatly. 
“Don’t worry, baby, it’s your birthday–it’ll be enjoyable for all of us.”
Standing just in your miniskirt in between the two men only made you grow hotter and wetter. The tension and cold air makes your nipples harden and by instinct you bring your arms to cover yourself–but Yeonjun is quick to grab them, shoving them behind your back.
“Just do what you're best at and take it, yeah?”
Taehyun steps out of the way as Yeonjun pushes you by your trapped wrists towards his bedroom. As soon as you enter, he shoves you, letting go of you in the process. You sit at the edge of the large bed clenching your thighs together, the wetness in between them is starting to become uncomfortable.
Yeonjun lets out a mocking laugh, “sitting so pretty for us, so cute how you know your place already. Giving me deja-vu right now, princess.”
He walks closer to you, standing directly in front of you, grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards at him. Yeonjun jerks his chin up, motioning for you to scoot back and you obey with zero hesitation, leaning back on your elbows towards the middle of the bed. He quickly runs his hands up your thighs, grabbing the band of your panties and yanking them off in one swift moment. 
“She’s so wet, Taehyun.” He runs a finger down your soaking slit. “You were thinking about this back at the club weren’t you?”
You whimper as his fingers tease your core, slowly trailing from your clit to your hole. 
“Answer him.” Taehyun speaks up from behind you. You feel the bed dip and a hand wrap around your throat, his thumb pushes your chin up, forcing you to stare up at him. “Did I stutter? Answer his question.” 
He releases your chin and you look back at Yeonjun, who continues to play with you, an amused look on his face.
“Y-yes. Since the club…” You buck into his fingers. “Just wanted you both–so badly.”
Yeonjun shoves a finger inside of you, quickly curling his fingers drawing a gasp out of you. He was clearly pleased with your reply.
“What a whore..” Taehyun replies, voice low. “Ignored us for almost a month but quickly crawled back to both of us for some attention.”
His hand remained on your throat as Yeonjun kept pumping his fingers inside of you, adding another to stretch you out perfectly for them. You whine and lean back into Taehyun.
“Must’ve missed us badly, huh? Cunts squeezing my fingers like crazy.”
You choke out a moan when Yeonjun’s fingers curl into your sweet spot with each thrust of his hand, he smirks and lays his thumb on your clit, pushing you closer to your release.
“Mmm–more, please!” You whine out. He presses his thumb harder into your clit, jerking it in circles while he continues to work his fingers inside of you. 
You bite your lip and gasp out loud as you cum onto his fingers, he continues these actions until you're shaking against Taehyun, who still has a firm grip on your throat–his other hand teasing your nipples.
Yeonjun pulls his fingers out of you, tapping your lips with them. “Suck.”
You let him shove his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on him as you wrap around his digits. 
“So dirty.” Taehyun says, watching intently as you suck on Yeonjun's fingers desperately. “Turn around.”
Releasing Yeonjun's fingers, you slowly turn around, settling on your knees. Taehyun lifts himself off the bed, yanking his belt off and slowly unbuttoning his slacks. He lets go and motions for you to crawl to him. “Wanna keep putting that mouth to use?”
You nod, unzipping his pants and yanking them down along with his briefs just enough to release his hardened cock. He takes your head in his hands and moves you slightly as you pump him. Taehyun grabs your wrist and brings it to his own mouth and spits, wrapping your hand tightly around his cock. 
You continue to pump him before bringing your head down to take him in your mouth. Before you could do so, your hips are being lifted harshley and Yeonjun kneels behind you, grinding into your wetness with his own cock. 
“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Taehyun yanks your hair down to him. 
Yeonjun lets out a breathy laugh as he enters you, stretching you out so well as Taehyun pushes his cock into your mouth at the same time. 
You groan around him, slowly bobbing your head and wrapping your tongue around him. Yeonjun thrusts into you once more, finding his pace. The force of Yeonjun slamming into you has you throwing a hand against Taehyun's thigh, his hand in your hair stabilizing you even if it did hurt. 
Your whimpers send vibrations through Taehyun's cock, making him throw his head back in pleasure. Eventually, with the pace Yeonjun set, it becomes too much and Taehyun's left to fucking your mouth on his own.
“Can’t even put that useless–fuck! Mouth to work.” He groans, shoving your head down on his cock. Tears fall down your cheeks at the roughness of both men. “Have to fuck you like a bitch, huh?”
Yeonjun continues to pound into you, smacking your ass harshly as Taehyun degrades you. 
“She can’t have it any other way~.” Yeonjun calls out from behind you, letting out his own string of groans. 
Taehyun suddenly thrusts into your mouth, causing you to choke around his cock. He only lifts your head to repeat the act. “Gonna swallow like a good girl?”
You nod quickly and he thrusts a few times before releasing deep into you mouth, you quickly force yourself to swallow so you don't start choking. Taehyun slips out of your mouth and releases your hair, dropping your head straight into the mattress. 
Yeonjun take this advantage to fuck you more roughly, his hips slamming against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress. “Waited weeks for this–fuck, baby, taking me so well.”
“Mmm–cumming!” You practically scream against the comforter of his bed, “Please please please.”
Immediately, you’re regretting even speaking up because Yeonjun quickly pulls out, ripping away your second orgasm. You weakly lift yourself up, “W-why? Was so close..”
“Shut up,” He says as he flips you over, “Y’talk too much.”
He enters you once more with one swift thrust, sliding in out of your wetness at the same pace as before. “You should be more grateful, Y’know? Shouldn’t–ah.. even let you come at all.”
Your release quickly builds back up with the new angles Yeonjun thrusts into you at. Gripping his forearms, you whine something almost incoherent as you cum around his cock. He only continues his pace until his hips are stuttering.
Yeonjun quickly pulls out, pumping himself a few times before his warm seed is landing on your tits and stomach. 
You barely get a second to breathe before Taehyun is sitting you up from behind. You let him lift you, your naive mind thinking they were done with you, bringing your own hands to wipe at the cum covering your torso.
Yeonjun smacks your hands away, “looks better that way.”
Taehyun continues lifting you up until you're settled on your knees once more and Yeonjun shoots you a sly smile, tapping your cheeks with his fingers before spinning you to face Taehyun. 
You give him a confused look as he spreads your legs with his own, lining his cock up to your entrance. 
“You didn’t seriously think we were done, did you?” He asks with a low voice, grinding his tip over your sensitive bud. “Wanna act like a slut–you get fucked like one.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before sliding inside of your warmth, but he doesn’t move. Taehyun only sits still as if he was waiting on something–or someone.
Your eyes widen when you feel Yeonjun prodding at your entrance, “nngh–wait! Wont fit” 
You turn your head to face Yeonjun, who doesn’t pay attention to your cries. Taehyun roughly grabs your chin to face him again. 
“Don’t complain, you’ll take it.” 
“It won’t.. You guys are t-too big.” You whine out.
Yeonjun coo’s at you from behind, slowly sinking his cock into you. Hot tears fall down your cheeks at the stretch. “Awe ~. Too big, huh?”
“Don’t act like you don't know the words to make this all stop.” 
Yeonjun finally bottoms out inside of you, ripping a loud groan from your throat at the feeling of being stuffed full. Your head falls against Yeonjuns shoulder as Taehyun slowly starts to move. 
Your body jolts with each thrust delivered from both men inside of you. Nothing but moans and whimpers escape your lips–never feeling this full in your life. Yeonjun and Taehyun were practically splitting you in half with both of their cocks, and you’re sure they aren't holding themselves together any better right now. 
Taehyun hisses as he sets a pace for him and the man thrusting from behind, “s’fucking tight.”
You grip Taehyun's shoulder, an attempt to stabilize yourself because despite being sandwiched between the two–you still felt like you were going to fall over at any moment. You attempt to pull yourself to sit up straight, but two thrusts that were delivered was enough to knock you back into Yeonjun’s chest, who lets out a breathy laugh. 
“You like this? Being filled so good–,” Yeonjun growls into your ear, “letting us fuck you however we want?”
You whimper in response, grip tightening on Taehyun’s shoulders. 
“Can’t even respond,” Taehyun mutters, grabbing your cheeks roughly, “use your fucking words. Wanna hear it–tell us how good we’re fucking you.”
“Yesyesyes! S-so good, wanted this–fuck!” 
“C’mon, baby, it’s not that hard.”
“Wanted it for so long..! Both of you–ah. Like this.” Your words are just as pathetic as the moans you let out. “Please, fuck!”
The grip Taehyun has on your hips is bruising as he continues to thrust roughly into you, Yeonjun doing his best to keep up with his friends pent up aggression, despite his second release nearing. 
“Fuck–gonna cum.” Yeonjun pants. “Inside her.”
Taehyun slightly slows down as Yeonjun’s thrusts get sloppier. It’s not long before he’s stuttering and releasing inside of you, not wasting a second before pulling out to save himself from the overstimulation due to Taehyun's brutal pace. 
The man still inside of you groans loudly before taking the chance and pushing you down onto the bed, manhandling your legs over his shoulders sloppily and fucking you deep into the mattress. Taehyun lands a smack onto your thigh and moves his other hand to your clit, rubbing at it with his thumb. 
Your stomach bubbles up with the familiar heat and you cry out at the sensation. You try your hardest to alert the man of your orgasm, and you aren’t even sure if you could get the words out before clenching around him and cumming hard. 
Taehyun continues to fuck into you, chasing his own release. You plead and whine that it’s too much but he doesn’t slow down once. His hips start to stutter as he bends your legs into your body, sloppily thrusting as he nears his orgasm.
“Fuckkk–.” He groans out before releasing deep inside of you. Taehyun rocks his hips a few more times before slowly pulling out, dropping your legs and sitting back on his knees to catch his breath.
“Took it like a whore, didn’t you?” You hear Yeonjun ask you, mockingly of course. Too tired to respond, you only pant and nod your head, giving him the response he wants.
“Good girl.” He chuckles. “Just means you can take more.”
1K notes · View notes
sweetiecutie · 8 months
Text
🖤Fuck or die🖤
Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!
Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit
A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still
It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.
And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.
You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.
Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.
Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.
- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:
- Y/n, get out of here!
Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.
You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.
- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.
- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.
His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.
- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?
Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.
- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.
- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.
- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.
- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.
He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.
- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?
Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.
- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?
You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.
- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.
Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.
You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.
- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?
Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.
- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.
You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.
- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.
- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:
- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.
You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.
- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.
You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.
With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.
- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.
Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.
He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.
Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.
- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.
A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.
- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?
His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.
- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.
With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.
- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.
Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.
One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.
Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:
- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.
Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.
Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.
A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.
It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.
You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.
- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.
As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.
Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.
And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:
SEE YOU SOON ♡
Slasher! König Masterlist
Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3
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dollfacefantasy · 7 months
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You Make Me Cry Every Time
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap
word count: 3.7k
a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight
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The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.
Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.
You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.
He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.
“Leon?”
He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.
“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.
His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.
“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.
“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff. 
You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.
“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.
It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.
“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.
“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”
He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.
“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.
“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.
“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.
That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.
“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.
“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.
“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”
You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement. 
“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.
“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.
“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.
“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.
You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.
“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”
You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.
“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”
“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”
“I’m sure,” he says flatly.
“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”
You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.
At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.
But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.
It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.
You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.
Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.
You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.
Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.
He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?
“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.
Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.
“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”
Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.
“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.
“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.
He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more. 
“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”
His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.
“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.
“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while  a lump grows in his throat.
You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture. 
“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”
You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.
“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”
“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.
Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.
“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.
“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.
You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.
His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.
You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.
He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.
He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.
“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”
He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.
You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.
That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”
“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.
Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.
“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”
Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.
His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.
He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.
He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.
His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.
“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”
You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.
Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.
“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.
Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.
He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.
As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.
“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”
You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.
You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.
One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.
“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.
“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.
“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says. 
His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”
You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.
You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.
He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.
Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.
“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.
You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.
1K notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 8 months
Text
FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
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Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
2K notes · View notes
heizlut · 4 months
Note
Okay, this thing has been in my mind lately... But could you do Semi-Dragon Zhongli and Full legacy Childe with afab!reader? Like dude with their size?? I would die of it and love it at the same time (your writing is so good btw i really love it ngl)
rip to reader because there’s no way she’s getting out of this without being pregnant 💀 also wanted to add little something and make zhongli have two cocks since he IS part dragon during this hehe
Beasts Within
cw: size difference, rough sex, monster cock obvs, forked tongue (zhongli), monster tongue (childe), two cocks (zhongli), anal/vaginal fucking at the same time, throat fucking, honestly rip reader
tags: sub!afab reader, semi dragon!zhongli, foul legacy!childe, dom!chars, mostly proofread, they/them pronouns for reader
nsfw under the cut
m!list here
⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺
You got yourself in quite the situation here. After challenging your boyfriends stating you could handle the both of them at the same time in their inhuman forms, you found yourself sprawled out naked on your large bed.
Childe looms over you in his foul legacy form, eager at the idea presented to him. Zhongli stands with his arms crossed, giving you a stern look, “This is ridiculous. I do not want you to be harmed. You know how different we are when we are not fully human…”
You pout at him, “Come onnn… Don’t ruin the fun. I’ll be just fine.” Childe looks to Zhongli, taking on the same pouty tone you had, “You know you wanna fuck them in your other form. Just do it!” Zhongli huffs, dropping his arms, “Do not say that I did not warn you…” And with that, two curved horns adorn his head, his amber eyes and markings glow, and his fingers become pointed at the tips.
You were obsessed with seeing your men in these forms. Yes, of course you loved them when they looked their usual selves, but something about their otherworldly forms made you ache for them. Zhongli’s narrowed gaze makes you shiver, “There’s no going back from this.”
Childe was the first to make a move as he leaned over you, “Give me a kiss.” You knew the drill, you opened your mouth as his slimy tongue made an appearance. It always felt strange as it licked at your lips, tangling with your own tongue, then forcing it’s way down your throat. You gag from the feeling and tears prick your eyes, but he doesn’t remove his tongue from your throat.
Zhongli moves towards you, taking in the way you looked as you did your best with Childe’s “kissing”. His lips form a smirk as he positions his mouth in front of your soaking pussy. His eyes flit to yours and without a word, his forked tongue licks a stripe through your folds and to your clit.
You buck your hips, wanting more but without the ability to say so. Both men chuckle at this, but Childe is the one who speaks up, “Aww does the needy slut wanna say something?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, unable to make a retort with his long tongue still exploring your mouth. Zhongli spreads your folds carefully with his thumbs, watching as your home clenches around nothing, “It appears you’re in need of more stimulation. I can fix that…”
His forked tongue gathers your arousal and begins to relentlessly flick at your clit. He leans closer, sucking your clit into his mouth and gently nibbling. You whimper and sputter around Childe’s tongue and Childe is kind enough to retreat it. He grasps your jaw in his own pointed fingers, making you look down at Zhongli, “Look closely at what he’s doing to you…” You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. The way Zhongli’s forked tongue moved so skilfully made your legs shake.
Childe huffs, annoyed at the lack of attention when he was the one who made you look at Zhongli. His grip tightens on you and tilts your head up harshly to look at him, “It’s not fair you’re getting all the pleasure here… Get my cock out.” He releases his grip and allows you do what he demanded all while you were letting out delicious moans from Zhongli’s ministrations.
Once Childe’s cock was freed, you ran your thumb over the slit, gathering pre cum on your fingertip. A groan comes from deep in his chest, the sound deeper than usual in this form. He laced his fingers through your hair, “Suck it. I wanna feel good too.” You fought back from telling him how whiny he was being, knowing that provoking him in this state would not be the brightest idea.
The slutty moan that came from Childe’s mouth pleased you, as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip and teasing the slit. The vibrations Zhongli’s dark chuckle went straight to your clit, making you moan around Childe’s length. Zhongli pulls away from your dripping cunt and looks to Childe, “I hate to interrupt but our dear here would be better on her hands and knees, wouldn’t you agree?”
If Childe could glare at him through his mask, he would. He pulls your head away from his cock, grumbling the whole time. You do your best not to laugh as you adjust your position to your hands and knees on the bed. Your amused thoughts were quickly interrupted by Zhongli’s hand making contact with your ass and you gasp. “I do hope you are ready for this…”, his voice deep and laced with a threat.
Before you can ask what he meant, Childe grips your hair yet again, pushing the tip of his dick against your lips, “Get back to it. I’m hardly finished yet.” You obediently open your mouth and he’s quick to shove his dick back down your throat. Distracted by this, you startle when you feel not one, but two cocks behind you. So that’s what Zhongli meant….
Your eyes roll back when you feel Zhongli slip inside your pussy first, but you nearly choke on Childe’s length when you feel Zhongli’s second cock prod at the tight rim of muscle as well. The noises of concern you made around Childe’s thick member didn’t do anything to stop Zhongli from slowly pushing into your ass. Zhongli’s fingertips dig into your hips as he buried himself to the bases of both cocks.
His head tilts back and his eyes squeeze shut, the feeling of being in both holes at once was unreal, “I apologize, but you did ask for this…” Zhongli pulls back then thrusts hard into both just as Childe forces himself deeper down your throat. Both men grunting and groaning in pleasure while you were filled up in every hole. Drool drips down your chin and onto the bed as your mind goes completely blank.
Both men thrust in tandem, causing you to cum uncontrollably on one of Zhongli’s cocks, while your tight asshole squeezed his other cock so tight he was sure it would fall off. He lands another smack to your ass as he growls, “Loosen up or I will not be able to continue.” You do your best to try to relax your body, but it doesn’t help that Childe was throat fucking you now. His large cock slipping down your throat as it tightened around his length involuntarily, “Swallowing my cock like a good little whore. Keep it up and I’ll reward you with my cum.”
You try so hard to keep up with Childe’s forceful pace as Zhongli decides he can move again. It didn’t take long for them to get back into the same rhythm they held before; each cock in and out and the same time. Zhongli’s glowing eyes shoot to Childe in a look that told him he was about to cum. Childe gives a single nod and with a final thrust from both men, loud growls and moans fill the room. Childe’s cum spills down your throat and Zhongli’s shoots into both holes. Never have you been filled to the point of feeling this ridiculously full.
All three cocks begin to soften and slip from your body to which you effectively collapse face first on the bed. Cum leaked from your pussy and ass, a sight that made both of them want to go again. Childe almost suggested it, but when he tilted his head to see your face, you had passed out from exhaustion, making him chuckle as he transformed back into his human form. Zhongli raised a brow, transforming as well, “Are they sleeping?” Childe nods and Zhongli sighs, “Go retrieve the wash cloths, please. Let’s clean them up.”
Hours later, you awoke sandwiched between the two of them. You sigh to yourself with a content smile and snuggle even further into the bed.
⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺
a/n: i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy this anon!!
taglist: @stygianoir
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bluebeary-jay · 9 months
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Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)
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Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)
Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)
Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)
Word count: 6.2K
A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕
“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”
Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”
“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.
“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”
“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”
“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”
“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”
A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”
Sweet girl.
Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.
If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.
Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.
It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.
But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.
Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.
Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.
“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.
“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.
Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.
He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.
And a lot younger than him.
He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…
He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.
Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.
Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.
“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.
“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”
You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.
“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”
The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.
“Sorry if that was too harsh–”
“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”
Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.
“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”
“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”
Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”
A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”
A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.
Fuck.
“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”
“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”
You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.
He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…
But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.
“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.
“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”
You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.
Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.
Idiot.
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Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.
He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.
He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.
The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.
But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.
So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.
“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”
You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.
It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.
So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.
His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?
And there was a lot to admire.
“You listenin’ to me?”
The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.
Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.
“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”
Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.
“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.
“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”
Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.
Lord have mercy.
“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”
Have fuckin’ mercy.
“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”
Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”
“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”
“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”
You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.
It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.
No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.
Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.
…right?
Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.
Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.
He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.
And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.
Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.
But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.
Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.
He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.
Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.
The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.
“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”
It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.
“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”
“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”
“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.
“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”
Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.
“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.
The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.
Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.
Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.
“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”
You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.
“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”
You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.
Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.
Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.
“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”
You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.
That is, until you spoke up.
“What did you say?”
…shit.
Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.
“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”
Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.
“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”
Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.
The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”
“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.
“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”
“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”
His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.
“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.
Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.
You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.
“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”
“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”
“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”
Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.
“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”
Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.
“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”
“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”
Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.
“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”
He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.
“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.
“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”
“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”
Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.
“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”
Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.
“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”
“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”
He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.
“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”
“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”
Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.
Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.
For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.
All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.
His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.
At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.
Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.
“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”
You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.
Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.
“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”
It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.
“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”
He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”
You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.
“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”
Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.
His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.
Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.
You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.
“Get back here.”
“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”
His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.
“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”
“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”
“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”
“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”
You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”
A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.
And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.
“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.
“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.
“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”
Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.
“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”
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Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.
Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.
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rageserenity · 3 months
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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bg-brainrot · 5 months
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Would You Still Love Me? (Astarion x Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: When you ask the question, 'would you still love me if I were a worm?' Astarion's response surprises you in more ways than one.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, silly goofy mood, act 3 unascended Astarion
Word count: ~1.7k
--
You’re chatting with Astarion over dinner at the Elfsong when a question strikes you. It’s an odd one, and you’re not sure if you should ask it. Your curiosity builds as you consider Astarion’s possible answers though and, by the next lull in conversation, you can’t help yourself.
“Astarion?” you ask, spearing a potato on your plate.
The vampire swirls his wine glass, watching the red liquid fall into place before answering, “Yes, dear?” 
“Would you still love me if I were a worm?” The question spills out of you, sounding even sillier than it did in your head.
Your lover blinks at you, as if he couldn’t possibly have heard that properly. But when your expression doesn’t change, your eye contact doesn’t drop, no admission of jest is to be seen, he finally says, “Darling, what kind of ludicrous question is that?”
“Well, would you?” you counter, pointing at him with your fork before popping the potato in your mouth.
His face grows pensive as he thinks. It’s a few seconds later before he asks a follow up question, “What type of worm?”
You finish chewing as you think of the worms you know. Not many admittedly– life in the city meant that free patches of earth are few and far between. So you answer the only worm that truly comes to mind, “The earthworm kind.”
“And I would know that it’s you?” he asks, leaning forward now. It seems like he’s invested in the question now, despite his initial reaction.
You nod, as if that’s a given. “Yes, you saw me transform.”
“Hells, I was hoping I could pretend not to know,” he says with a smirk. 
“Wicked man,” you retort, shooting him a responding smile.
Astarion’s face looks thoughtful again as he considers the developing situation. “Could I turn you back?”
Now you shake your head vehemently. What use was the exercise if magic would fix you? “No, nothing could turn me back. I’m simply a worm from now on.”
“Hmm, and are you certain that you would love me?” He raises an eyebrow at you in challenge, as if he’s cornered you in your own mischievous little game.
“Of course,” you answer immediately. “I don’t think my little worm brain would be able to think of much else.”
“How sweet… I think,” he says, cocking his head. You suppose it is, though you had meant it as fact. “Well then, one final question, if you would?”
You nod, gesturing for him to continue with your fork. “Go ahead, I’m an open book. Or worm, in this case.”
“How long do worms live?”
You blink, having not expected such a question from him– and truthfully also due to not knowing the answer. “I don’t know. Maybe Halsin would?”
Astarion locates the druid, sitting a few tables away talking to Wyll and Karlach. He raises his voice to be overheard in the din of the tavern. “Halsin, be a dear, how long do earthworms live?”
“A fantastic question, Astarion!” The druid’s voice carries easily with excitement. “It truly depends on the conditions of the worm, but anywhere from a few years up to eight years.”
You balk at that fact. A worm can live how long?
“I’m happy to tell you all about ideal soil conditions–”
Astarion cuts the man off with a loud, “Thank you!” Then he turns back to you. “Well, there you have it.”
“Have what?” you ask in response, confused at the turn in conversation.
“You would live at most eight years. I’m immortal, my love. I think I can manage less than a decade of loving a worm,” he says, rolling his eyes at you.
You’re not sure how to take the casual way that he speaks of your impending wormy death, but you find it oddly comforting to know that he would in fact still love you. You honestly hadn't expected that. “So you’d keep me around? Made sure I stayed healthy and safe?”
He nods, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Naturally.”
You can’t help but laugh at the idea of him keeping you as a pet worm. It seems almost unbelievable. “You wouldn’t throw me into the nearest patch of dirt? Or worse yet, let a bird take me?”
“Gods below, dear,” Astarion responds, aghast, putting a hand over his heart as if he’s been truly, deeply offended. “I would never.” Then he gets a far off look in his eyes and adds, “Well, maybe never. I suppose it depends on if I needed you as bait. But I’m certain I would be able to rescue you after the fact.”
“I would allow it,” you say, with a short nod. “If you’re using me as bait, it’s likely for good reason.”
"And after you pass? I would miss you terribly of course," he says solemnly, with his most maudlin, tragic expression.
"You'd better. And I expect the best soil for my burial," you say, pointing your fork at him threateningly.
“Of course, darling,” he says, only the hint of his smile visible from behind his wine glass. He takes a sip and looks at you again. “Now, why would you ask such a thing?”
You shrug, entirely convinced it was just a passing thought. But, as you poke and prod at your food, you find yourself answering, “I don’t know. What if, before this all ends, something happens to me. I already come with my own scars and problems, gods know how much worse it can get.”
Astarion stares at you over his wine glass, processing what you've just said before responding, "My love, believe it or not, I'm a vampire. I have 'scars and problems' of my own. If you think that anything could happen to you that I wouldn't be able to handle, you'd be sorely mistaken."
You hadn't expected him to say such words so sincerely, and you find yourself a bit taken aback. You love each other, you'd said as much on the night Astarion had been freed from Cazador, but it still feels a bit intimidating to know how deep that love could run. Apparently earthworm deep.
The idea that this man, who would rather bathe in blood than touch an inch of dirt, would continue to love you? Well, despite the inane premise, you find the warmth in your heart to feel very real.
"What about you, darling?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. "If I were to become a worm, what would you do?"
You answer quickly, "Easy. I would still love you, probably keep you on my person, and offer you blood or other sustenance when you need it."
Astarion looks at you aghast. "Sweet hells, do not put me in your pocket."
"And why not? I would be extremely careful, and then I would never lose you," you respond, explaining yourself logically. "Besides, even as a worm, who knows what kind of trouble you'd get yourself into."
"I should be saying that to you," he says, placing his wine glass on the table, serious now. "I can't believe you would put me in danger like that. I fully expect you to place me somewhere nice, like the lawn of some pampered Upper City noble."
You think about his proposition for a second before shaking your head. "But then I couldn't take care of you. What if you get stepped on?"
Astarion considers your counterargument with narrowed eyes. “Ugh, fine. I shall stay in your pocket. But I expect you to clean it regularly. And I demand that you get a new lining for it. Silk, preferably.”
“Easy enough to do,” you say, nodding along. “You would be most comfortable worm this side of the Chionthar.”
At that, the man looks pleased, picks his wine glass back up, and reclines back in his seat. “Good. And, for what it’s worth, I'm sure you would make a very cute worm.”
You’re not sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or an insult, but you suspect it’s the former. “Thank you,” you say, smiling at your lover. “You would make a dashing worm yourself.”
“Are you both expecting to turn into worms any time soon?” you hear from behind you. You turn around to see Halsin standing tall over you. His tone is friendly, warm as he continues, “I would be happy to take care of either of you.”
You can’t help the blush of embarrassment that comes over your face. You’re also not sure how to take the words. Is he asking to adopt you both, as worms? Gods, how did you end up here… So you look back to Astarion who is now shooting you a look that says, Now look what you’ve done.
“Err, no Halsin. It was just an odd little conversation we were having. Sorry to cause you any confusion.”
“No need to apologize, my friend,” he replies. “Though if you ever do need help, you know where to find me.” He gives you both an affectionate smile before heading off. 
While it’s nice to know that others would care enough to take care of you as a worm, you’d meant the question to be solely for Astarion. You’re left burying your face in your hands to hide your shame.
“So, darling… what did we learn?”
“To never ask Halsin about earthworms,” you mumble through your fingers.
Astarion gives you a ‘tsk’ before responding. “No, my dear. If either of us turns into a worm, we must hide that fact from Halsin." He scrunches his nose in distaste before continuing, "I refuse to live in whatever healthy soil he’s found for us.”
You snort at Astarion’s conclusion, but still find yourself agreeing. “Fair enough. Better yet, let’s try to keep ourselves at the very least bipedal.” The two of you share a laugh, but in the back of your mind you’re already thinking of your next question. I wonder if he would still love me if I were a mimic? I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
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erwinsvow · 4 months
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𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.
author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!
now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana
word count: 3.8k
warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.
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“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.
You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.
That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?
But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.
So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 
“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.
He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.
So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.
“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”
“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 
“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 
You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 
“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.
“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 
You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.
Then, Rafe looks down at you. 
“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”
You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 
They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 
So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.
The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.
It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 
You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.
“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.
You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.
Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 
“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.
You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.
You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 
He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.
He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 
You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.
Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.
In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 
He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.
“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.
He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.
“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”
Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.
You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.
Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.
Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 
“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.
He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 
“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 
It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.
Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 
He doesn’t.
“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.
“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 
He feels you nod your head slowly.
“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 
“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.
“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.
He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.
“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”
“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 
“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”
“I promise.”
“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”
“I promise, Rafe.”
“Good girl.”
He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 
Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.
You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 
When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.
“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 
“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”
“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”
You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.
So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 
“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.
“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 
“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”
“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.
The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.
“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.
He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 
You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.
“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.
“I should ask you that.”
“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”
“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 
“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 
“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 
“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”
You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.
You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.
Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.
“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 
“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”
He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.
And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 
“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.
“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.
In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 
The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.
“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”
He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”
“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 
Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.
“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 
Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 
He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 
You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.
He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it��s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.
“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.
Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 
He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 
“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 
“We’ll get it in a minute.” 
He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.
You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.
“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”
“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."
“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 
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eu-nicola · 5 months
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Strong Love - Enzo Vogrincic x Reader
summary: Enzo makes a bold decision to save his relationship after rumors of infidelity spread. warnings: without
from a request
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You have been in London recording a film for a month now. You initially planned to travel with your boyfriend, Enzo. However, unforeseen circumstances kept him back in his home country, managing interviews for his new film and other commitments. Soon, your name flooded social media, not for your movie but due to a particular photo everyone was tagging you in.
It was Enzo with his ex-girlfriend, Sofia, seemingly happy and together on the streets at night. The moment you saw it, confusion and pain set in. You wanted to believe it was a mistake, but the evidence was there. Unable to gather the strength to confront him in person, you sent him a text message, desperately seeking an explanation.
On the other side, Enzo anxiously stared at his phone, feeling the tension building up as he contemplated your message. "I saw the photos, Enzo, and I need you to explain what's going on," your message read. The realization of the photo's error struck Enzo, and he feared you wouldn't believe him.
As you noticed his delayed response, you tried to focus on your work on the film set. A mix of emotions overwhelmed you, from surprise to anguish. The images of Enzo and Sofia haunted your thoughts, creating a knot of insecurity and sadness. While attempting to concentrate, you awaited the answers Enzo was willing to provide.
Enzo, understanding the gravity of the situation, desperately sought to explain. When you finally checked your phone, you saw his rushed messages justifying the encounter. Amidst the filming chaos, you struggled to concentrate and process the flood of notifications that made you feel powerless and hurt.
"Love, you need to know it wasn't what it seemed. I ran into Sofia on the street by chance, and we only talked for a moment. There were no hidden intentions, I promise."
"Sofia is part of the past; you are my present and future. I made a mistake not anticipating how it could affect you, and I take full responsibility. I am willing to do whatever it takes to fix this because you are the most important thing to me."
"I know the photos may seem compromising, but I'm being honest with you. It was an unexpected coincidence. I'm sorry; I love you."
You loved him, and you knew he was being honest, but it didn't ease the pain, especially considering Sofia's past harassment when you first started dating.
"Enzo, the photos are hard to ignore, but I appreciate your honesty. I need time to process it all. I'm hurt, but I want to believe in you. We need to talk when I return." There were still a few months left until your return, but if he was truly willing to fix things, you hoped he would understand and wait.
Enzo, feeling overwhelmed by the distance and the anxiety of waiting, made a bold decision after days of reflection. He decided he couldn't wait months to resolve things and was determined to fight for you.
Within a few days, without saying a word, Enzo arranged a flight to London. Landing in the bustling city, his heart pounded with nervousness about your unexpected reaction.
That same afternoon, a few hours before you finished filming, he appeared on the set, searching for you everywhere, asking everyone where you were, and the consistent response was, "in her dressing room." When he finally found your dressing room and knocked on the door, you opened it, thinking it would be anyone but him. Seeing him, you were completely surprised.
"Enzo, what are you doing here?" you asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement.
"I'm sorry; I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to see you, talk to you face to face. Explanations and apologies aren't enough through messages," he replied, determination in his eyes.
You were moved by the fact that he flew there just to see you, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you. He continued, "I made a mistake; I shouldn't have talked to her, and I'm willing to face the consequences. But I'm also willing to fight for us, to show with actions that this is what I want most in my life, that I love you."
After hours of conversation and shared tears, you forgave Enzo because you truly loved him and saw that each of his words was sincere. During that time, he stayed with you, and despite the rumors, you paid them no attention. Every day, you both seemed more in love than ever, and everyone noticed.
After some time, you returned home, and the return flight felt different; you were better, and you liked that. You didn't know how things would unfold, but something inside you told you that everything would be okay.
475 notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
a safe haven l six
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.
word count: 8.4k
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August 2024
The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.
You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.
After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.
You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.
Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.
By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.
“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.
You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.
“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”
“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”
Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”
You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.
“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.
“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”
You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 
“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”
“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”
“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”
Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”
Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”
“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”
He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.
“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”
“It’s brown,” you answer. 
“Brown? Why brown?”
“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”
Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.
“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”
“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”
Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”
“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”
“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”
You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”
When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 
“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”
At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.
Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”
“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 
Was. 
Your throat dries at his use of past tense.
Because you know exactly what that means. 
Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.
By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.
“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”
Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”
“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”
Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 
“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”
He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.
“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”
Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”
Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”
Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.
Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.
“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”
“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.
“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”
Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.
“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”
Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.
“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”
You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”
“Why’s that?”
You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.
Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”
Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.
“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”
You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.
And he feels the same.
He deepens the embrace.
I love you.
Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.
You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.
You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 
Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.
Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.
After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 
“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.
“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”
“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 
Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”
“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.
You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 
“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”
“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”
Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.
Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”
“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”
You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.
You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?
It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.
Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?
His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 
“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.
“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”
You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”
Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”
Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”
Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.
Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.
More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.
It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 
It doesn’t matter to him.
Nothing matters to him except for one thing.
Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.
You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.
And he is yours. 
Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.
His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”
“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”
The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.
He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 
You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.
Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.
Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 
Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.
“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.
“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.
Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.
You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.
Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.
“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.
Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.
That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 
“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”
Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”
“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”
Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”
Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.
“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”
“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”
“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”
Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.
“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”
“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.
“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”
Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”
That’s all he needs to hear.
Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.
“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”
Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”
Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.
“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”
Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.
Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.
“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”
“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”
You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.
He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.
The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.
Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”
An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.
Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.
You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”
He tries to speak, but he can’t.
You’ve rendered him speechless. 
Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.
Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.
“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”
“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”
Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 
It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.
You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.
After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.
“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.
“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”
Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”
You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”
He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”
“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”
“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”
“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 
Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.
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thehighladywrites · 6 months
Text
— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”
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☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader
☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.
☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises
☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹
tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04
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Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.
He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.
Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.
Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.
Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.
There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.
Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.
“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”
Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.
“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”
His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.
“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”
“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”
Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.
He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.
“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.
“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.
The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.
“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.
But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.
But damn, he was persistent.
Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.
“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.
Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.
He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,
“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”
He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.
“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.
Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,
“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."
Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.
He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”
His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.
You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.
Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.
Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.
Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.
Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.
Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,
“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”
You placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I want your hands.”
You kissed his other cheek.
“ I want you inside me, mate. “
You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.
Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.
A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.
‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.
Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.
His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.
You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.
You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.
“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.
Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.
“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”
You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”
He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.
Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.
Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.
“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”
As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.
“Delicious.”
Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.
He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.
“Can I repay you Azzie?”
Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.
He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.
“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”
But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.
Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.
Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.
You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.
Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,
“Play later.”
You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.
His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”
“You’re doing so good, keep going.”
“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.
By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible. 
The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.
Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.
“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”
“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”
“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”
Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.
“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”
Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.
Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.
Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.
“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.
“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.
You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.
Oh, how you loved him.
In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.
“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.
The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.
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