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#the contouring was a little rough and also i had to let
bucksangel · 1 year
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sexy shrek is an ally
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taintedcigs · 7 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ YOURS, MINE, OURS. ghostface!dom!steddie x fem reader
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— summary : you ask your boyfriends to surprise you in ghostface masks.
— word count : 4.6k
— warnings : 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!!, smut, prn without plot, p in v, bj!!, or*l (m and f receiving), fingering, hj, unprotected sex, mmf/mfm threesome (mostly mfm for this one but they do stuff too), dom/sub dynamics, mean!dom!eddie, mean!dom!steve, sub!reader, very tiny knife play, spitting?, degrading, petnames (baby, slvt, whore, princess, etc.)
a/n : not proof-read >:( whoever came up w soft dom!eddie and mean dom!steve combo i owe u my life! also kinda wanna make dom!steddie a series with various one-shots but? what do yall think?
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You had talked about this many times before.
Expressed how badly you wanted the two of them to fuck you in that Ghostface mask.
So when they finally agreed with the plan and came in through your window, pining you against your bed, you couldn't help the lustful gasps that left your plump lips, which were already muffled by your own laced panties that they stuffed into your mouth.
"She's already moanin' for us," Eddie purred, tilting his head, his eyes dripping with lust behind the mask as he traced the contours of your face. "Such a desperate slut," Steve mocked further with a deep chuckle.
Your tiny skirt was flipped upward on your stomach, and both of their hands were roaming your body. The sight of your pantieless, glistening cunt was enough to have both of the boys' blood rush to their cock, painfully prodding through their jeans.
Both of them were quick to take off their masks, tossing them aside with their knives while they toyed with you. Eddie held you by your wrists, and Steve's lips were sloppily latched to your neck, nibbling and licking every spot he could find, rough enough to mark your body in every place possible. "Touch her," he murmured toward Eddie, who nodded frantically.
Steve ordered both of you around with ease, his cock growing harder at the fact that the two of you were so quick to obey his orders, that submissive look was embedded in both of your eyes.
Eddie's calloused hands were rough as they landed on your thigh, you yelped quickly, "P-please," you whined, voice still muffled.
"I can't hear you, sweetheart, what did ya say?" Eddie mocked with a sly chuckle. "Poor little baby just wants to be stuffed with our cock," Steve whispered against your neck, you whined an incoherent babble to them, and Steve huffed before he yanked away the panties from your lips so you could speak.
“Yes!” You whined out of breath. “More!” You pouted at him all brattily, earning a harsh slap on your ass.
"Behave." Steve warned with dark eyes, Eddie's one hand still had a tight grip on your wrist while his other hand was quick to snake between your thighs, fingers teasing at your clit.
His hands let go of your wrists and his face slid down to your thighs, lip ghosting over your leg as he looked up at you with a sly smirk. Your body was burning with desire, you wanted to grip his head and push him further into your aching cunt, and just as you were about to reach for him, Steve had a harsh hold on you with a tut. "Nuh-uh," he mocked with a tilt of his head.
"You're gonna lay there and take what we fuckin' give you," he spat, his hands quick to retrieve the knife next to him, cutting your bra in one swift motion, both of the boys groaning at the sight of your breasts. You opened your mouth to tell him off, but he quickly interrupted you with the light graze of the knife on your skin.
The cold exhilarating touch of it had you arching your back, nipples quick to harden as both of them watched you smugly.
"So fuckin' desperate," Steve mocked, his gaze overblown with lust now, loving the way you submitted so easily and how much of a slut you were for them.
Your thighs closed around Eddie's head, desperate for him to give you something, anything. “Please,” you panted. Eddie looked at Steve for confirmation, who nodded with a sly smirk.
He was quick to slide a finger into your slick walls, curving his digits and pressing his lips against your cunt to suck on your clit, earning small cries with each of his movements. "You like that, honey?" You nodded frantically.
Steve cherished your whines and the shift of your hips to gain some more friction. He placed the knife aside before his mouth latched onto your nipples, both of them overstimulating you in every possible way, deliciously.
Steve dropped the firm hold on your wrists; instead, focusing on the bulge prodding against his tight pants, he stroked himself with a low whine that was dulled by your breasts that were attached to his lips. 
You wanted to take advantage of your free hands, take Eddie by his curls, and push his head further down, but you were too distracted by the two of them—the way their mouths moved and the way their hands roamed on your body. And, besides, you knew if you tried anything, both of them would have you crying out, mewling, to even have them fuck you.
You were beyond frustrated. The moment they came through your window with those masks and the moment they took them off, revealing their devilish smirks, your pussy ached at the sight.
"Look at our slut, Stevie, so fucked out with just our tongues, hmm?" Eddie said through gritted teeth, lapping up your juices in delight. You moaned in response, your heels digging further into the bed. You sounded like a woman possessed.
Steve let go of your nipples with a slight pop sound. "S'fuckin' loud for us today, aren't you, sweets?" He tutted with a tilt of his head. 
"Look at those pretty little glossy lips, Eds," he hummed, hand squishing your cheeks as his eyes devoured you whole.
Eddie looked up in awe, oggling your breasts with a shift of his hips. He needed some kind of friction. You looked perfect from this angle; your mouth stood agape with Steve's force on your cheeks, and tits glistening with his spit. He wanted nothing more than to watch them bounce up and down while he stuffed you full of his cock.
He continued his soft strokes on your clit, making you arch your back onto his mouth. "Think you need to have that mouth stuffed with something bigger than her panties, Stevie." Eddie suggested with a mocking grin.
"God, you're so fuckin' perfect, baby," He praised Eddie with a frustrated huff. "C'mere," he muttered. Eddie was quick to oblige, leaving you all whiney and frustrated as he reached for Steve.
"N-no!" You squealed out, "n-need more, need both of you." You huffed with a pout, looking at both of them with an innocent look.
The cold glare they gave you was enough to have your lips pressed tightly into a straight line, you knew if you went further with your brattiness, you'd be in for a long punishment, but you didn't want that, at least not today, not when your insides were pulsating with the need to be stuffed full of their cocks and their warm cum.
"Behave." Steve warned with a harsh grip on your face, making you look at his darkened gaze. "Eddie was such a good boy today," he praised again, turning his gaze toward Eddie's sickly sweet brown eyes.
"And you were nothing but a brat," he spat without even looking at you, making you pout further.
"'m sorry," you huffed. They paid no attention to you when Steve grabbed Eddie's chin harshly. Kissing him so roughly that his lips mashed against his teeth, making him yelp for more.
He swirled his tongue in Eddie's mouth, one hand discarding his curls messily, while the other was quick to free himself of his painful pants and even more painful boxers.
Revealing his hardened cock as it plopped against his stomach, making him hiss against the dizzying kiss. Pre-cum beaded from his deliciously pink slit, making your mouth water and your thighs dampen further and further the more you watched them.
You loved both of them dominating you, but seeing Steve so easily overpower both you and Eddie had your stomach in a twist. The sudden flip of a switch in Eddie between you and Steve was glorious, and it had you whining like a brat.
Steve stroked himself as he deepened the kiss, his deep brown eyes half shut with desire as he whined into Eddie's mouth, your core immediately vibrating with the ache for both of them.
He smeared the pre-cum sitting on his angry tip onto his length, fucking his hand roughly with a determined gaze on you.
Heat rushed to your cheeks and straight to your aching cunt as you watched your two boys with desire.
Eddie's gaze widened once he fully comprehended where the lewd noises were coming from. Steve jerked his thick cock, a stilled smirk plastered on his parted lips. Eddie didn't hesitate to help Steve out, his hand flying to take over as he stroked up his shaft, slow and steady.
Steve grunted into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. You watched with your teeth dug into your lips, the more Eddie tugged at Steve's thick cock, the more Steve panted and bucked his hips further into Eddie's calloused hands, spurring you on and on.
Steve broke the kiss with a satisfied huff when he heard your strained groans, biting Eddie's bottom lip before he turned to you, "enjoying the show?" He mocked, licking his lips while he kept his stern gaze on you, and Eddie palmed Steve’s dick with the need to have his cum spurting all over the both of you.
You nodded with a slight huff, pupils blown with lust. "If you had been a good girl, you'd be the one stroking my cock," Steve hissed.
"Or better yet, I'd have you bouncin' on it." You whined loudly at that. Wanting nothing more than to have both of your boys filling your holes, any and all of them.
"P-please," you begged. "I'll be good, s-so good, I promise." You feigned an innocent look, a pout adorning your lips.
Your begging earned their attention as Eddie's movement on Steve slowed down, stopping completely when you continued. "Promise, I'll be so good, the bestest," you hummed, earning a warm smile from Eddie, who was too quick to soften up the moment you gave them those eyes.
Steve sighed a deep breath. "What'd ya think, baby?" He turned to Eddie, who was almost already drooling, his cock swelling more at the sight of your wet cunt, begging to be plunged into.
"Stevie," he whined. "Need to be inside of our lil' slut."
"Need to stuff all of her holes and show her who owns them." Eddie's tone was gentle toward Steve, his gaze on you was anything but. Deep brown eyes looking like they were ready to swallow you whole.
"Please, baby, I want to teach her what happens to bratty little sluts like her, hmmm?" Eddie almost growled, making blood rush straight through Steve's cock, twitching with need.
"So fuckin' perfect," Steve groaned when he pulled Eddie for another kiss, harsh and sloppy.
"Don't give into her too fast, baby. I know she's cute with her pouts and all, but we need to punish her, yeah?" Steve demanded, watching Eddie nod quickly once he got back to his first position, eyes hungrily watching you.
"Don't worry, Stevie, I'm gonna remind our baby who owns her," he said with a low growl, reaching down to grab your hips with both of his hands. Your breathing grew shallower the rougher he was with you.
"And make her never fuckin' forget that she's ours to use. Our personal little cock sleeve," his voice was more teasing now; that damned smirk played on the curve of his lips as his fingers slipped between your legs, quick to re-find their place, your gushing cunt giving him easy access.
You wanted to agree with him, and be good for both of them, but all that escaped your parted lips were strained moans, and your hips were quick to buck into his fingers, wanting him deeper and deeper.
"Oh look how she's squirmin' under my touch Stevie," Eddie hummed, and Steve watched in awe. Both of you were driving him fucking crazy.
"You love that, don't you, baby? You love being used by us. Love being filled and stuffed in all of your holes, hmmm?" He frowned mockingly.
"The perfect fuckin' cum dump," he hummed, the stroke of his fingers alternating between slow and fast, making your head dizzy as the lewd sounds of Eddie fingering you filled the room.
"P-please," you whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "M-more," you cried out, eyes quick to become glossy.
"So fuckin' mouthy today," Eddie tutted with a disapproving sound, head turning to Steve. "You wanna take care of that, baby?" He asked all sweetly; his fingers were sliding quickly between your slick folds, sending a shot of desire straight to Steve's cock.
Normally, he would've told Eddie to watch it for trying to act like he was in charge, but he loved Eddie ordering you around like this, and he loved to see you squirm underneath him.
Steve tutted with his brows pinched together. "Thought you wanted to be our good girl, honey," he hummed, fingers slowly stroking your cheek. You looked up at him all doe-eyed. "I-I am! I promise!" You weakly protested between your whines; Eddie's fingers were so agonizingly slow that you were trying to rock into his movement.
He heaved a sigh of breath. "Look at you, doll. Your gloss is all messed up," he said in a low tone, gripping your chin harshly to force you to look up at him.
His fingers were quick to graze against your lips. "Let me fix it," he hummed. With half-lidded eyes and whines escaping your lips, you nodded obediently.
His other hand grabbed his hardened cock, giving it a few tugs before he slapped it across your cheek, earning a shocked gasp from you. Your eyes widened with excitement as you watched him.
His fingertips found their way to his pink slit, and a hissed sound escaped as he swiped his thumb over his angry tip, spreading some of the pre-cum before he dragged it on your mouth, smearing it all over your lips.
A sly grin overtook his features as he dragged his cock all over your lips, making sure each part of your lips was drenched in his semen.
Before he could tell you to taste him, your tongue darted out of your mouth, a loud moan escaping your lips as you eagerly lapped up all of his juices, looking up at him with a heavenly gaze and a sugary smile.
Steve looked back at you dumbfounded. Surges of pleasure coursed through his veins like electricity, and his balls felt so much heavier when you slightly parted your lips to take his index fingers in your mouth. You sucked at it greedily, faux innocent eyes never leaving his.
Eddie's movements came to a halt as he watched the two of you, both of their cock hardened to the point of pain, ready to release just from the filthy sounds you made as you sucked on Steve's fingers.
Steve slowly retracted his digit from your mouth. "Open," he muttered, voice low. You parted your lips happily, watching the way he fucked his hand. You wanted nothing more than to have him filling your mouth and to feel his warm cum shooting down your throat. Just the thought of it had you closing your thighs together unashamedly.
"Let me see that tongue," he purred, grabbing your chin. You stuck your tongue out without any complaint, giving him the same gaze that had both of them groan in unison.
"Such a good girl for us, aren't you?" He hummed, making you nod frantically before he spat into your mouth, you almost gasped at the invasion of his fluids in your mouth, but it warmed your tongue quickly. "Swallow." He demanded, and you happily swallowed, watching the way his deep brown eyes squinted in satisfaction.
"You're so fuckin' perfect," he grunted. "That filthy fucking mouth, and those perfect tits," he hummed in excitement, fisting his cock roughly, "and just the sight of that tight cunt, oh, god, baby." He let out a strained groan.
"Tastes even better, Stevie," Eddie said with a smirk, diving back into your thighs, pressing the flat of his tongue against your throbbing clit, soaking in the way you squirmed under his mouth.
"I don't think I can fuckin' wait," his voice drowned out between your thighs, "need to be inside'a her." He slurred.
"I think you've earned this, princess," he whispered. "Right, baby?" He hummed contently, attention diverting to Eddie.
Eddie's head was quick to pop up, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. "Fuck yes," he groaned eagerly, not even wasting a second to undo his zipper and toss his clothes aside.
You looked up at him excitedly. "Masks?" Steve's eyebrows rose at that. "You want us to wear our masks while we fuck your holes, honey?" He shuddered, his mind going numb with how perfect you were.
You nodded happily. "Since you've been such a good girl," he hummed, slipping on his mask before he tossed Eddie his.
You could feel Eddie's thick, veiny shaft pressing against your legs, smearing his beads of pre-cum all over your inner thighs.
They were both so addicting—the way they moved in unison and how they had your breath hitching just with their masks on.
You don't know what it was that you loved about those masks, but you loved how they immediately made both your boys more confident and dominant. Especially Eddie, who was eyeing you with such hunger that it had your core throbbing, the head of his dick prodding your entrance.
Steve had your attention back when he slapped his dick against your lips, parting them open before he gave it a few tugs. He kneeled on the bed, towering above you.
He slid his angry tip into your awaiting mouth, not worried about hurting you once he pushed himself harshly with a low grunt coming out of his lips. Your mouth was quick to wrap around it, licking and sucking every inch of him you possibly could fit. “See, you look so much prettier like this, baby, droolin’ all over my cock and knowing your place,” he groaned, eyes carefully watching you behind the mask. 
And you loved every second of it—his husky voice with that goddamn mask as he shoved your face further onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubes as you drooled around him. And Eddie could tell how much sucking Steve’s cock turned you on, feeling the way your thighs dampened more and more. 
“Stevie she’s fuckin’ soaked from sucking your dick,” Eddie mocked with a chuckle as he teasingly slid his shaft against your slick walls. You whimpered for more, but he just looked at you with that goddamn smirk.
They enjoyed this, teasing you until you got all whiney and teary, so cock drunk to the point where all you could let out were incoherent babbles for them to make you cum.
"Isn't this what you were fuckin' begging for, baby, huh?" Eddie pouted mockingly.
"To be fucked dumb by both of your daddies, hmm?" He asked, dragging his cock up and lining it with your entrance. You were quick to nod frantically, mouth muffled by Steve’s thick cock shoved into it. 
You could barely comprehend what was happening when he started to sheath himself inside of your velvety walls, making your pussy accommodate his size quickly. It burned, just a little bit, but your cunt clamped down around him quickly, and a groan lodged in his throat, his face scrunching when he pushed himself further. 
“You look so good like this,” he panted. “All fucked out on our cocks, just begging for more, like a bitch in heat.” Eddie groaned, 
Steve’s hands quickly wrapped around your hair, yanking you hard as he pumped further into your mouth. “Can’t even move her damn mouth,” he spat. “Have to do all the fuckin’ work,” he groaned. You could barely catch your breath the more vicious his thrusts got. 
But you were used to it, welcoming his thick cock as you took what he gave you, trying to hollow your cheeks to please him further. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your face heated from being so breathless. 
“Look how well she’s takin’ both of us… and this tight fuckin’ cunt… molded just for us,” he moaned, watching the way his cock split you apart. His grip on your hips hardened, enough to leave a blotchy bruise, marking you. 
He eyed you with a proud smirk, plunging into you harder while Steve fucked your face with ease. Your whines and groans were uncontrollable, as were Steve and Eddie’s. The room was filled with a mixture of the lewd sounds of your grunts and the harsh slapping of flesh. 
Eddie was feral, plunging his cock further into your velvety walls, not stopping until he was sure you were fully stuffed, and the deeper he went, the deeper you took Steve into your mouth. All three of you were in sync; the rocking motion had everyone in a hazy state, not knowing when any of you were about to fucking lose it. 
“Such a warm fuckin’ mouth, Eddie… and she’s droolin’ all over my cock,” Steve grunted, his grip on your hair tightened, slamming your head with force as he enjoyed the way you gagged around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat.
“She’s drenchin’ my cock too, so good for us,” Eddie chuckled. You rocked your hips back onto him, making Eddie almost lose it. “Fuck- fucking messy little slut.” He growled in a husky voice, pumping his cock in and out of you in a delicious pace.
“God, you both look so hot…” Steve groaned. “Shit, shit, shit… Love watching your cock drive into her, gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, both of you.” 
You could barely focus, delighted sobs muffled by Steve’s stuttering hips driving further into you. “Needy fuckin’ whore,” he shuddered when you choked around him. “Don’t know how much longer I can hold off." You looked up at him all doe-eyed, ready to take all of his cum and swallow it whole.
He almost lost it at that look—so primal and needy, but so fucking innocent. “Mhmm, gonna shoot my load down that pretty little throat.” You whimpered, making Steve’s head fall back in pleasure. 
“Fuuuck, want that princess? Want me to fill your slutty mouth?” You nodded as best as you could, pouting. 
“Shit, pretty girl, I’ll give you all of my cum.” He stroked your cheek, wiping away the tears that left your glossy eyes. 
“You close, baby?” Steve asked, directed toward Eddie, who was lost in your pussy, reveling in your moans. “F-fuck yes,” he panted.
“Can tell she’s fuckin’ close, too… Tight fuckin’ cunt squeezing me, wants to milk me dry, yeah?” He asked with a mocking chuckle. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, pretty girl, shit I’m gonna-” Steve was losing it, grumbling as he furiously fucked your mouth. “N-need your cum, Stevie,” you let out a gurgled sound, Steve’s cock immediately twitching, balls drawing up with the need to release.  
“I’m gonna- oh, fu-fuuck,” he let out a load groan, bucking his hips with a force that had your mind fuzzy, enjoying the feeling of being filled everywhere. Steve was hitting the back of your throat, and you could almost feel Eddie in your tummy. 
His cock throbbed in your throat. “Take it, b-baby, fuuuck, mmpf! Y-yeah… take it all,” he grunted, with ropes of hot cum spurting down your throat with one final thrust, tainting your throat. 
He watched you swallow it all with a filthy smile on your lips. Eddie was stunned watching the two of you, his vision blurring as he was chasing his release now. 
You’re too fucked out, but now with your mouth free, you want to tease Eddie and get him to his breaking point because you know you are close—so close that it aches. And you know he will only let you cum once he does. 
Your attention diverts back to him, with an innocent look, “Mhmm, Eds?” you whined, voice still coarse after getting your throat abused by Steve. 
He looked back at you, pupils blown wide. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He hummed, 
“W-wanna see you,” you hummed with a sweet pout, and he was quick to oblige, taking off the mask swiftly. 
You grind your hips onto his cock, tiny whimpers leaking out of your plump lips, wanting more. 
More, more, more.
“I-I…” you barely let out between your whines, and he stared at you in a hypnotic gaze, each part of him completely allured by you now. 
Your fingers grazed against your tummy. “I-I can feel you here, sir,” you stuttered with that look again. Leaving Eddie stunned as his mind reveled, calling him 'sir' with the most pornographic gaze ever, you truly had him wrapped around your finger. 
He shuddered in a deep breath. “Jesus fu-fucking,” he growled. His pace picked up, head thrown back as he plunged into you. “Fuuuuck, angel, keep sayin’ shit like that, and you’ll make me cum.” Steve watched curiously, blood quick to rush to his cock again when both of his sluts were so fucking filthy. 
“Wanna make you cum, sir,” you sobbed beneath him. You were close, so fucking close. Body shuddering with how badly you needed a release. “P-please need m-more.” Tiny whines left your parted lips; he could feel your cunt gushing on his cock, desperately sucking him in. 
“Shit, pretty girl. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? To be fucked dumb like this? To be our little fucktoy?” He was losing it, beads of sweat prickled on his forehead.
“Mhmmm, love being owned by the two of you,” you hummed, head tilting toward Steve with a vulgar look before turning your attention back to your own release. “Please, Eds, n-need to…”  
“You wanna cum, baby?” You nodded frantically. “Wanna cum, while I claim you? While I stuff you full of my cum, have it leakin’ down those pretty thighs?” He hissed. 
“P-please!” you cried out, “want you to come inside’a me.” You cried out, your pussy convulsing more and more around him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he hummed. He pistoned into you, watching his cock split you open once more. “Cum for me,” he hissed. 
That was all the confirmation you needed as you chased your release, primal groans filling the air as your walls fluttered around him, orgasm washing you away as you were sure you saw stars for a moment.
“F-fuuuckk, g-gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep,” he growled against your ear, fully losing it with one vicious thrust, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing him as thick ropes of his warm cum spurted inside of you, painting your walls white.
Both of your visions blurred with how hard you came, and Eddie could feel his cum leaking out of your stuffed pussy, he groaned at the feeling. 
Once his cock softened and slipped out of you, he crashed next to you, planting a quick kiss on your bare shoulder. 
Steve was quick to jump back into the bed, making his way down to your thighs, and your head cocked in curiosity, watching the way he spread your legs. 
His cock twitched at your fucked out expression. Your hair was messily discarded, your mouth still stained with Steve’s cum, and your tear-strained cheeks made him hard again.  
His head drooped down to your glistening pussy, stuffed full of Eddie’s load that was leaking down your thighs. His fingers spread apart your pussy lips, admiring how full you were. “W-what are you doing?” You asked with a sweet hum. 
“I wanna taste both of you.” Steve hissed with a devilish smirk, diving into your sore cunt as his tongue flattened on your clit, savoring the taste of the two of you.
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wolfiezz · 5 months
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could u write ellabs x reader? maybe the reader is dating them both and they get jealous bc some girl is flirting w the reader? maybe some fluffy after care at the end :)
YES 🦭
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✦ | Cw; Dom!Abby/Ellie, Sub!Fem!Reader, Marking, Overstimulation, Mentions of blood, Multiple orgasms (?), Sorta fluff (?)
✦ | An; it’s SHORT (and maybe rushed) I’m sorry sowwy
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"You're ours. Do you ever forget that," Abby growled, her fingers digging into the swell of your hips as she guided you along the length of Ellie's wet cunt, her own naked body pressed up against your back. You’d cum about three times by now, you mind has completely turned to mush, and all you can do is whimper and whine about how overstimulated you are. But you take what they’re giving you anyways.
Abby’s rough hands feel so good against your sweaty skin as you try to focus on the feeling of your pussy rubbing against Ellie’s, her sweet grunts and groans motivating you more despite the throbbing ache in your thighs.
“So pretty, sweet girl. Look so good on top of me,” Ellie groaned, letting Abby do the work for both of you, her legs quivering on your shoulders. You tell she was getting close by now, the subtle trembling of her legs, the occasional whimpers she let out, the way her back arched every time Abby pushed down a little bit too hard.
“Guys, please, I can’t—“
“You can, and you will,” Abby snarled, giving your ass a hard smack that’s definitely going to form a dark bruise later on. You really, and actually, couldn’t take this anymore. You’ve lost track of how many times you came tonight, your body was defiled in cum, sweet, and blood, and your body was burning for a break, aching even. Though, they wouldn’t stop, no. Not until every inch of your body and mind was branded in their marks.
After some time, Ellie finally came, about her second or third one this night. You whined and squirmed on top of her as her warm juices splashed against your swollen cunt, this also being the cause of your own orgasm. This left both you and Ellie breathless, Abby smirking as you admired how fucked-out you two looked.
“You think she’s had enough?” Ellie rasped, her hands smoothing down you quivering backside, easing the pain from the many, many marks that she’d left there. “Yeah, she’s good,” Abby responded, gently placing kisses on the back of your sweaty neck before dragging you off of Ellie and into her arms, carrying you into the bathroom for some much needed TLC.
“You did such a good job for us tonight, beautiful,” Abby praised, sitting you down on a towel on the counter and drenching a freshly cleaned washcloth in warm water, lathering it with soap and carefully slipping it over the curves and contours of your body, wary of the tiny wounds they may have left behind. The only thing you could really manage for her was a drowsy smile, your body gradually coming down from shaking as she deemed you clean enough as washed the soap off of your skin, wrapping you up in a fluffy pink towel, and carrying you back to your bedroom.
You were mostly sure you would find Ellie there, and you did. She looked like she’s already cleaned herself up as well as the bed.
“Come get in bed you two,” she hummed, patting the bed before she got into it herself, leaving the sheets pulled back so Abby could lay you down and tuck you in, making herself snug beside you, ultimately sandwiching you between the both of them. “Good night, princess. I love you,” Abby whispered, giving you and Ellie one last round of kisses before slowly drifting off into sleep. Leaving you and Ellie awake for a little while longer.
“Well, good night, I guess. Love you,” Ellie rasped, tenderly kissing your nose before falling asleep along with Abby, leaving you the last one awake.
Your eyes slowly began to flutter shut, body laying limply between the both of them, before remembering to utter your last words of love before drifting off into dreamland.
“Love you guys, too.. Good night.”
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astrum-aetherium · 8 months
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The absolute otherworldly experience that would be sex at Henry’s place. His strict use of kerosene lamps would pave way to such an enchanting setting. Like just imagine the radiant glow and the little shadows contouring every dip of his body. Tehehehe kicking my feet rn. Also he would absolutely revel in it too, with his affinity for aesthetics and whatnot.
—ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
mouse, my dear — you, as always, are so incredibly precise and creative with your submissions, i am stunned anew. admittedly, i've completely banished the detail of him exclusively using kerosene lamps in his home out of my mind! i just dramatically clicked open my digital copy of tsh and browsed it via the find tool, and yup, there it is: I had been told by the twins that Henry disliked electric lights, and here and there I saw kerosene lamps in the windowsills. how painfully, achingly pretentious, and yet so in-character. awe-inducing.
and, well, concerning the notion of having sex in a setting such as this one... god, yes. you've almost drawn it all out for me. that warm, luminous, rich glow; prancing shadows upon the walls, especially when you get to it; light folding neatly into each curve of his body, thereby emphasizing them; the dimmed, scorching, hauntingly ominous atmosphere; the vintage feel of it all... ahhh. god.
try to imagine all the types of sex to be had in this setting and i'm sure you're bound to drop unconscious: rough and merciless as an outlet for tension or punishment; gentle and passionate in the dead of night; breathy and desperate after not having seen each other in a long time; vocal and unwound as a distraction from your studies; drunk and blurry as a celebration of a successful exam. anything — in that deep, brassy golden light, so scorching and yet cooling at once, in a way it is both welcoming and alien.
and yes, he would enjoy it just as much — like you said, for the aesthetic of it above all else. his pretentious vein would throb with excitement, wherefore he would only be motivated to please and appeal to you all the more. the antique air of indulging in the generous delicacies that are your bodies while bathed in kerosene lamp glow... yep, that would scratch an itch or two of his that he never deemed reachable. he would lose himself in the appeal of it; he would only want to have sex at his place from then on, or at the very least enjoy it lots more that way. he'd offer more intimacy to you in this setting as well — letting his lips linger and drift upon your skin longer, with a much more scorching effect, and smearing worshiping remarks in latin and greek into your flesh while he's at it. he would be so lenient, so giving, so good to you; authentically falling in love with him would never seem so appealing.
what a wonderful, mind-numbing thought. thank you. i need a cold shower.
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2dmanlover · 1 year
Note
op I loved your linger fic with omen I NEED a part two I'm BEGGING
Linger pt. 2 | Omen x Fem!Reader NSFW
part 1
cw//just smut LOL, hints of voyeurism, love confessions :>, ooc (human form) omen.
a/n- okay this is a case in which i was willing to write a part two just cos the fic and anon were foaming at the mouth begging for me to write it so here ya go <3. ALSO IDK WHAT HAPPENED TO THE COLOR OF THE TEXT IM SORRY DARK MODERS
758 words
Ever confident of your intentions, he let his head fall to the side and flashed a rare smile. The sight made you shiver and subconsciously catch your lip between your teeth. Your eyes roved over his lenten form; his hand still resting at the base of his cock, hair splayed out on the pillow case, and thin blue wisps emanating from him, all perfectly framed by the moonlight spilling through the window. 
“You just going to stand there and stare?” His voice came out gravelly as always, sending licks of electricity up your spine. Your face flushed red and hot, knees almost knocking together. Omen began to tighten his grip on himself, slowly stroking up and down, putting on a show for you, knowing how cute you look when you’re flustered. 
You couldn’t help but let your shorts and panties drop, leaving nothing but your big t-shirt draped over your perked breasts, outlining your pebbled nipples. 
Slowly you walked towards him, each step light and almost silent on the floorboards. His gaze swept over your body as he sat up on the edge of the bed, kicking his boxers off in the process. 
“How shameless,” he sighed deep, hardening under his own touch. 
You cupped both sides of his face with your hands, kissing him hard. Rough hands dipped under your shirt, smoothing down the curve of your waist. The two of you reenacting what you both wished would have happened in the hall. 
He urged you to straddle him, pulling you by the back of your thighs. You whimpered at the brush of his tip against your bare clit. Twitching under you, his kisses went rogue and sloppy. The very tips of your fingers dipped through each rift of his abs, lingering to smear the fresh load he had just spilt on himself. He pulled a tight breath through his teeth as you skimmed over the contour of his cock. 
“You don’t know what you do to me,” Omen spoke low into the shell of your ear, gently turning you over on your back. Two fingers dipped into your folds, teasing your hole and spreading your slick. Flames crawled from your core up your neck, decorating your cheeks in red; culminating in a light and shaky whimper. His broad hand followed the heat up to your throat, pinching your nipple on the way. 
You shook with anticipation, looking into his dark eyes, barely illuminated by the ambient light. Eyes shifted down to his achingly hard cock that he held at the tip, dragging it through your dripping slit. Your face heated up more with embarrassment, realizing how aroused you had gotten by watching him jerk himself off. 
“Little voyeur you are,” he chided, his gaze boring deep into you. Finally, he sunk in the tip, working it a little before sheathing himself in your warm cunt in one fluid motion. 
You sobbed out a moan of his name, stretching your head back as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you.
“Please Omen—“ he interrupted your pleas with a kiss, both of his arms planted by the sides of your head, holding up his weight. 
Each stroke became faster, your moans becoming increasingly harder to control. It wasn’t like it mattered, though, as every breathy mewl would be drowned out by the sounds of Omen pounding into you. Underneath it all, he was much more vocal than he normally was, blabbering into your ear between kisses.
“You’re so good for me,” he admitted, “so fucking good.”
“Omen, please,” you choked out between thrust induced squeaks, “make me yours– I want to be yours. Fuck– I need you.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, yet were not empty, each and every one true to your deepest desires. 
He shifted his gaze to your sticky, flushed face, brows knit together in pleasure. 
“All mine–” he cut himself off with a groan, your walls clamping down on him as your nerves crawled towards the climax. 
“I love you,” he breathed out, kissing you just under your earlobe. Your arms flew around him as the orgasm ripped through you, nails digging into the hot skin on his back. He followed shortly behind you, pulling out to release onto your stomach. 
His lips captured yours hard and passionate, something you never thought you’d feel out of him, making up for the sudden feeling lost within your pussy. 
“I love you too, Omen,” you sighed out the moment he broke away, shifting him and yourself over, slotting your bodies together.
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practically-an-x-man · 4 months
Note
Please Corinthian and Prometheus with: wrapping arms around the other's neck when standing behind them
Ooooh I haven't written for the two of them in a while! (I really do need to write Ruin... but we'll get to that eventually). This should be fun :D
____ All Night
Word Count: 896 Content Warnings: None!
A rhythmic and strangely musical scraping rang through the old house from the moment he walked in. It had been a quieter night - rare, for the state of the dreamscape, but he supposed that was the holiday season working its magic - though the harsh sound set his nerves on edge almost as soon as he pushed open the door.
"Prometheus? I'm home, baby," he called out, one hand ghosting across his ribs and finding the cold hilt of a knife. Nothing seemed to be in disarray, but... better to be prepared. It wouldn't be the first time a vengeful nightmare had followed them home.
The more dangerous side of his mind, the part of him accustomed to creeping through darkened alleys and silent corridors, winced at the way his voice rang through the house. If this were to end in a fight, he'd just lost any whisper of surprise.
But just as it wouldn't be the first time a nightmare had followed them back here, it also wouldn't be the first that Prometheus had startled at his entry and he'd nearly caught a spearhead across the gut. Even now, they were all too used to being attacked without warning. And even now, he still moved like a howl in the night. So he'd learned to announce his entrances.
The scraping cut off at the sound of his voice, and he recognized too late what the noise had been. A whetstone on a blade. He used the same on his knives every two weeks.
"In the back," Prometheus' voice floated back to him, and the Corinthian allowed himself to relax. They sounded fine, comfortable even, and there was a fire blazing warmly in the hearth. Their torch was propped up on the mantle, still flickering. He trailed his hands over the rough wood as he passed.
"Everything alright today, hon?" he asked as he continued to move through the house. He stripped off his jacket and draped it over the back of the nearest chair, then did the same for his weapons. It was about the only time he let himself go without his knives... but he didn't mind that. This was home.
"Hm. Yeah. I'm not hurt." Prometheus responded from the other room, their voice faintly distracted. The whetstone-scraping started up again a moment later, returning to the same even rhythm. "Chipped my blade, though."
He ducked through the doorway to find them propped up on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Their spear rested across their lap, and he watched for a moment as Prometheus ran a whetstone down the blade in long, even strokes.
"Do you even need to sharpen it?" the Corinthian wondered as he crossed the room, "I mean, it's all made out of shadows, isn't it?"
"Still the same spear," Prometheus muttered, halfway focused on their task, "It'll still be chipped when I pull it together the next time."
"Hm. Weird." he agreed, even as he slid onto the bed behind them and draped his arms around their neck. He pulled them gently back, feeling the contours of their body press into his chest. Prometheus hummed almost in amusement, even as they opened their hands and let their spear dissolve back into the shadows.
"Are you feeling ignored?" they teased, tilting their head back to look up at him. Their eyes glimmered with laughter and firelight. The Corinthian ducked his head to steal a kiss and felt them smile against his lips.
"Maybe a little," he admitted with the same low glimmer of humor in his tone. Prometheus' hand caught his forearm and gave it a comforting squeeze, fingertips trailing along his skin.
The Corinthian leaned back in to press a line of kisses down their throat, and he felt their chest swell as they let out a deep, contented sigh. He could feel the tension in their posture trickle away, little by little. Good. It was so rare that they ever let themself relax. He'd have bet money that they'd gone straight for the whetstone the instant they stepped into the house. Aside from maybe a moment to light the hearth, it was all duty and obligation, prepping for the next night's work.
"I still need to..."
"Ssh," he murmured, not unkindly, "We've got all night, honey. All night."
But after about the fourth kiss, they pulled back. The Corinthian lifted his eyebrows at them.
"How long's that sharpening gonna take, huh? Twenty minutes?" he challenged, still not releasing his grip on them. And Prometheus didn't try to break away, though they stretched one hand out to snag the little whetstone. They turned it over in their hands.
"You're a bad influence."
"An' don't I know it." he agreed without missing a beat, a faint smile crossing his face, "C'mon, hon, we've got all night. You're allowed to take a break every once in a while, you know."
As if for emphasis, he kissed their temple and let himself linger an extra moment. His thumb traced the sharp line of their collarbone, exposed under the hem of their chiton. Prometheus let out a low hum, melting against his body like it was unconscious.
"I guess it could wait a bit..." they agreed, and he felt a swell of victory as they set the little whetstone aside, "But take those damn glasses off. You're poking me."
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distressed-demon · 2 years
Text
Medic x Sniper
Prompt from Discord: Skinny Dipping
Warnings: None (that I can think of? It's all very SFW and doesn't go into any detail)
When Ludwig agreed to accompany Mundy on a camping trip, he didn't expect the Bushman to suggest they go skinny dipping.
To be fair, the Kiwi made a few fair points; "S'not like anyone's gonna take a gander at us, we're the only people for miles around!! An' it's dark now, so it's not gonna be like we're seein' much."
The doctor had agreed. In fact, he was the first of the two of them to slip into the chilly river they'd (read: Sniper) set up camp next to. He pounced at his partner when Sniper waded in, the duo giggling brightly in the cool water, the moonlight casting them in a silvery light.
They shared tender touches, gentle words and sweet nothings. Small promises and careful kisses. Compliments were exchanged, and quiet reassurances.
It's quiet out here, Medic thought lazily as Mundy trailed kisses down the back of his neck. Peaceful, and charming. With nothing to bother us.
And as much as he would have loved to savor the moment, Sniper forced his head beneath the water, prompting another round of rough play.
Ludwig took particular notice to how animalistic the Kiwi was. He'd playfully growl, and show off those fangs he sported. It wasn't uncommon for him to surprise the doctor, as he moved through the water without creating hardly a ripple. It reminded Medic of a crocodile, and it put him at slight unease.
Until, of course, Sniper slowed down for a moment, letting Ludwig take a moment to appreciate his boyfriend.
Mundy was lithe, not skinny. His muscles were nicely toned, and he'd clearly endured some physical labour in his life. He was nicely tanned, as well as a fair amount of hair, which complimented his skin tone, at least in Ludwig's mind. The German also took notice to the way the Kiwi's bones were still visible beneath the skin, creating edges and contours that, were this any other place, or time, Medic would have loved to follow with a precise, careful touch.
But, for now, he had to be content with just the sight of his lover; the roughish, lone wolf with a kind soul and laid-back demeanor. The man who would always listen to Medic rant, even if he didn't have any idea what the German was on about. The man who was always so quick to comfort him, and compliment him, and love him, unconditionally, with everything he had.
The thought had brought tears to the doctor's eyes.
But all too soon, they had to stop, their bodies sore and tired from their romp in the river. So that's why they're here, wearing nothing but boxers and a blanket as they sat together at the edge of a fire, warming up a bit and getting ready for bed.
Ludwig turned his head, burying his face in Sniper's neck. "I'm glad you invited me out here, schatz. This was... The most wonderful way to spend time with you. I couldn't have asked for anything else. Today... Today was perfect."
Mundy smiled, carefully helping the doctor to lay down so their eyes fell to the swathe of stars in the sky. "Of course, Snapdragon. You mean the world to me. I love you... More than I can ever say."
As they shared a few more lazy, tired and loving words, they finally succumbed to slumber, their bodies resting perfectly against each other, like two halves of a whole.
[Anyways if this doesn't make any sense do tell me, in running on very little sleep here and I want feedback before I post this to Teufort Shenanigans]
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matchheadz · 9 months
Text
THIS IS NOT A TUTORIAL
So I like to draw. That much is clear. In fact, I went to school for it! For an exorbadent amount of money, actually. Well, not drawing. Animation specifically but thats not the point.
I like to draw, but for a long time I felt like I couldn't because my 'process' was rather ridiculous. Or at least, I felt like it. I still sort of feel like it. I want to remind people here that your process doesn't have to look clean or pretty or whatever, because nobody (unless you go to an art college in that case just get in the habit of saving custom layouts for projects, trust me) is going to see it.
I call my sketchbook my 'shitbook' because its full of stuff that will never see the light of day. Blind contour drawings. Random mixtures of shapes. Observational drawings with little notes to myself. Don't worry about those 'aesthetic journals.' Fuck 'em, I say. Life is messy as shit, let your sketchbook show that.
So today I wanna show you the absolute mess that is my process. I like to take screenshots during a painting or sketch that I feel is pivotal in my learning process so I can see if I took the right direction or not. As a result, I have a ton of these .pngs lying around. Lets look at one:
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What the fuck is that? EW! THATS UGLY! Hold on, what about this one:
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Hmm, well what about this- wait what the fuck is this
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These are all thumbnails/sketches from IT projects I did maybe two or three yearrs ago. These never saw the light of day, save for maybe a joke post or to a partner involved in a project. These were for me to look at, to carve out. These don't have good anatomy. They're not the final composition. Sometimes they're in a completely different style. Point is,
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These are my versions of thumbnails. It's how I plan my shots, my layout, my composition, my expressions. Is some of it pretty? Maybe? Is most of it absolutely vile? YES. And I love it that way. The dirtier the better, as I like to think. Its a thought process. I want my thumbnails to look like I'm thinking so I can combine those thoughts. For example, I'll show you the last Vergil painting I just did and all the steps I did with that. Look at this ugly little motherfucker:
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This is a strange sketch considering the final product. What I did here was look at the 'jinx pose' from Arcane and be like "hmm. Vergil?" and tried to use the perspective and anatomy. it did NOT work out in this sketch because as you'll see in a second, the rough colors did not work for me. But in this specifically, I focused on the musculatory anatomy of his shoulders, because I knew that was going to be something super defined and important to understand with how odd his vest is. So here are my flats. Sorta:
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So at this point I'm clearly focused on the face and my file is still named Vergil Thirst Trap Lol and something clearly isnt working with my perspective. His head and arms are huge, and Vergil might have a grabable waist for some of you but this isn't it. So At this point I'm done with my first sit down and I step away. I come back the next day (during work hehehe) and I get to this at the end.
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Alright! Color is looking a little better. Arms are more sculpted and while I'm aligning myself to my sketch more than anything, I'm also very closely looking at my pose reference, thinking about anatomy and my color palette. I step away (I clock out) and I take a minute to look at it. Its... looking better? But theres something off still about that perspective. At this point I'm a little frustrated with this vest and its weird rules. So I bare my teeth and gnash at it:
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WHOA WHY THE FUCK HE LOOK SO WEIRD HERE?? Cause I flipped the canvas after painting and didn't realize how odd it looked oops. We'll do some fixing but that face looks nice for now and I think im better understanding the contrast I need through some actual photo editing. So let me tell you the story of Vergil's hair. Its a sad one. It will enrage you. This man had four different itterations. Most of which I can't show you because I painted over them so many times. But heres a screencap of the one I thought was gonna work.
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Its NICE. I liked it alot. But the I realized this was not the way things were heading. Hair too swaggy. IMO anyway. I was slowly editing the name from Vergil Thirst Trap lol to Vergil to Vergil has mommy issues. and this hair? It matches the lightning well, but this was more Vergil Fucks. so what was the end result of the body?
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more or less this (Those buttons didnt look like that I just realized this screenshot is fucked but you get the idea.) I did some composition editing, some contrast play and more effects, but this was pretty much done. So, like, shit gets messy. Thats not even counting the layer of overlapping reference photos I used because I don't use art boards like a normal person. shit gets messy! Let it get messy. Just clean up when you're done and hopefully you get something you're proud of >:)
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rhenysz · 5 months
Text
Your dead eyes
Prologue
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Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted you all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader fem.
A/n: I'm very excited, I had this idea in my head for a year and it's finally going in the right direction. English is NOT my native language so I asked an AI for a little help, please if you see something wrong let me know! I'm also very insecure about this, I hope you can read it. Good reading.
*I kept switching between Y/n and You, I'm confused about what to use.*
Word count : 2.1k
Warnings: Nothing yet
Next
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The cold wind cut through the entire house; the windows, made of old and worn wood, could no longer contain the icy air. Each breath was held to alleviate the hunger sensation that coated your stomach.
Stay strong. That was all that echoed in your troubled mind as your dull eyes aimlessly wandered through the house. Yoir hands were clasped together, trying to gather as much warmth as possible near the fireplace where Nestha had seated her on a rickety chair with numbered days.
Your sister stood by yor side, posture resembling that of a true queen, a face sculpted in marble, pure disgust in her eyes for the man seated next to her. While Nesta displayed her discontent with their father, you preferred to pretend that his existence was null.
"Feyre." Elain's soft, hushed voice made her turn her head towards the sharp creak of the door. There was Feyre, the youngest of the three but older than you. "Where did you get this?" Hunger was so intense that Elain didn't even inquire about the blood covering her sister or the apparent fatigue on her face. Only pure interest.
"Where do you think I got it?" Her sharp words in her hoarse voice did nothing to diminish Elain's widened eyes, directed at the deer carcass in her arms.
"Will it take long for you to clean it?"Not her not Nestha, and certainly not Y/n – only Feyre. Taking a deep breath, you stood up, feeling for the chair and taking slow steps toward Feyre, but stopped upon hearing her father's rough and worn voice.
"Feyre, how lucky you were today to bring us such a feast." Nesta by her side only chuckled maliciously, as she did at any word that came out of the man's mouth. Pure scorn.
You extended your hands to find the worn table where Feyre had placed the deer. Feyre, your sweet Fey, straightened her back while casting a brief glance at Nesta and then focused her young and tired eyes on you.
"Hungry?" with pale and cracked lips, Feyre asked, a hint of a smile appearing. Your lifeless eyes sparkled for a second, your dry lips parting in a half-smile.
"And when am I not?" It should have sounded like a joke, but it wasn't. It was the reality. There were nights when you lay next to Feyre, praying to anyone who would listen, begging that tomorrow would be another day they'd go to sleep with full or at least not starving stomachs.
Feyre laughed humorlessly at the miserable situation they found themselves in; her little sister didn't deserve to live with the uncertainty of tomorrow – whether they would go hungry or cold.
Pressing your lips together, you reached out to Feyre, who quickly grabbed your hands, bringing them to her face. Your warm and gentle hands traced the contour of her lips, feeling the cracks, moving to her forehead, running her thumbs there and applying gentle pressure to her temples. Feyre nestled her face in your warm hands and let out a relieved sigh; Y/n had magical hands.
"Come on, Feyre, you need to rest." You was concerned for your older sister. Even though you couldn't help Feyre with hunting, you tried to provide relief in other ways. Silly as it may be, at the end of the day, the moment Feyre looked forward to the most was when Y/n would gift her with your those sweet hands – be it on her shoulders, back, or neck. Anything was wonderful for her tense muscles.
Feyre let out a long sigh she didn't know she was holding and, with tenderness, kissed the palms of your hands to move them away from your face, already missing your sister's touch. "Later, we need to eat." Feyre looked around and frowned. "Where's the firewood?".
You mumbled in discontent, letting your arms fall to your sides. You turned your head shyly in another direction because, even without seeing, you could feel Feyre's questioning eyes. "I tried to make her chop wood, but…"
Nesta, who was cleaning her nails, stopped and looked at both of them."I hate chopping wood. I always end up with splinters."
You shrugged with your older sister's voice. Nesta always missed the opportunity to stay silent. "Besides, Feyre, you're much better at it than I am."
Feyre gritted her teeth, making an unpleasant noise that assaulted your ears. Desperate to end the tension, you reached for Feyre's tattered clothes and pulled like a child trying to get their mother's attention."Tomorrow morning, I'll do it myself, Fey." You couldn't. It was easier for you to cut off your fingers than to hit the wood accurately, and both Feyre and Nesta knew that.
"No."
The voices of your older sisters were firm in denying you. Closing your eyes, you sighed. It has always been like that. Every time you offered to help with something around the house, you were turned down and scolded. You may be blind, but you were not defenseless, even though chopping wood may not be your strong suit.
"I'll chop, and you stay here." safe,Nesta wanted to continue, but the word got stuck in her throat, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Since when did this cabin guarantee any safety?
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Dinner was silent, only the noise of utensils and chewing, occasionally interrupted by Elain trying to start a conversation about how cold it was that morning or how nice it would be to have a new blanket to ward off the cold winds.
When dinner was over, Feyre delicately took your arm and led her to the room they shared, seating her on the bed while changing her ragged clothes for potentially cleaner ones.
"How is my drawer?" With your head tilted, your voice cut through the silence with the question. When it was just the two of them alone, it was easier; there were no constant quarrels between Feyre and Nesta, and, as cruel as it may be, there was no Elain. It was just the two of them in their little happy world.Feyre threw herself on the bed next to you, releasing the air from her lungs, and turned her face to admire her sister's gentle profile.
"Missing ink to finish." Feyre then looked at the drawer and described it with the utmost care so that her sister could visualize it. "There are two spirals in white, one descending and one ascending on opposite sides, looking like smoke perhaps. Also, there are two stars on each side with some smaller ones around."
The younger one hummed in agreement and opened the blanket to lie down, making room for Feyre to lie down too. Facing each others you felt safe, the love they had for each other creating a warm and cozy atmosphere even with the wind making the roof tiles roar.Running your tongue over your lips and trembling your eyes, you timidly asked, "And me? How am I?"
Opening a wide smile, Feyre pulled you into her arms and showered your head with several joyous kisses, eliciting laughter from the younger one. "You look wonderful, Y/n."
In the best of words, at least for Feyre, Y/n was gentle, not a naive and immature gentleness, but a softness that made her seem wise and older. Someone she could whisper her secrets to, tell jokes in her ear that were often so bad they made them laugh until their stomachs hurt, and then warm up in the cozy embrace of her little sister.
"Turn around." Y/n lightly pushed Feyre's shoulder, indicating she should let her go. Groaning, Feyre accepted defeat and did as her sister requested. Massage time.Sitting on the bed, your hands pressed on Feyre's shoulders, easing the tense muscles.
Feyre murmured, "Oh my..." You chuckled quietly, proud to offer your sister a bit of relief. Then, still somewhat distracted, Feyre muttered again, "I killed a wolf."
Your hand recoiled, and her dull eyes widened.
"You what?"
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The next morning, Feyre and the other sisters had already left for the village with the wolf's leather to sell, while you stayed home with your father.
"How about gloves?" Feyre asked, singing with bright eyes, like a little puppy.
"No. I want nothing for myself. Go and buy yourself something and please," You exhaled and squeezed between your eyes, "don't let Elain sway you with her complaints."
Feyre's shoulders slumped in defeat, and she nodded, but soon verbalized her response for you to understand."Alright... no gloves then."
The day passed painfully slowly with no one to entertain her. Your father was not the most suitable for such a task and seemed content to sit by the fireplace with the wood Nesta had chopped, after much fuss.Despite all her strong personality, Nesta was great for you, in her own way, but she was a great older sister for you.
The day passed slowly . Your sisters returned in the early evening, and despite all of Y/n protests and grumbles, Feyre gifted her with a small object.
"A hairpin?" You asked with a faltering voice. "Fey..." a pout formed on your lips, and your eyebrows furrowed.
"It was cheap! And I couldn't resist; it was calling to me and saying so enchantingly," Feyre held her sister's face and continued with a laugh, "take me, take me, I would look beautiful in your sister's hair. Convincing, isn't it?"
"Not at all."
Feyre threw your head back and laughed."Well, I thought so. Now stay still for me."
Wrinkling her nose at the veiled order, you obeyed your sister. You disjointed thoughts ceased as you felt Feyre's fingers pulling a strand of your hair and securing it with the hairpin. "A little snowflake lost in your golden curls."
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The rest of the afternoon went well, or well enough for another normal day. Y/n spent most of the time with Nesta, listening to your older sister murmur the same story from her old and worn-out book for the umpteenth time.
At dinner, Feyre joined you at the table, enjoying her warm presence and casual conversations.
A deafening roar cut through the conversations, and the sound of the door being brutally ripped off its hinges made your bones tremble along with the walls of the house. Fear flooded you in a petrifying way, turning you legs into jelly.
"ASSASSINS!"
The creature's voice dripped with cruelty and rage. Slim hands grabbed your shoulders and pushed your body toward the wall opposite the voice. Elain crouched with you, holding you in her chest, pressing your ears protectively to muffle the voices.
Being blind was never something you resented; there was no reason to lament something nature decided before was born. But in that moment, in that peculiar situation you found herself in, all you wanted to do was see. See who was directing such anger at your sister, see Feyre's bravery confronting something immensely more powerful than her, and see the exact moment your other half was taken away from you.
You shouted for your sister, shouted until yor voice became hoarse and worn out, shouted until you succumbed to exhaustion, and when you had no more strength, you lamented being the only one who remembered your sister.
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Time was relative with Feyre's absence. Some days passed quickly with a good pastime, while others dragged painfully. There were also days when neither happened, and those were the worst.
On those days, you could hear Elain babbling throughout the house about her engagement, Nesta commanding the house – no longer falling apart – like a general, and, worst of all, you could hear the damn noise of that fancy cane you got from your older sister.
"I don't need this." Nesta frowned at the denial, considering it childish.
"Others will ask, and I don't want anyone looking at us like we're animals because you're clinging to the walls to walk," though her words were cruel, Nesta stood firm in her point.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, you fists clenched the white silk dress that adorned your body, baring your teeth like an animal, you snarled, "I'll use it outside. Inside, I refuse."
It didn't happen. You was indirectly forced to use that piece of wood inside the house as well. The servants whispered malice when they saw you hitting the new furniture; the number of bruises you gained while trying to memorize the house left you worse than a bruised tomato, and you didn't want others to think you suffered abuse from your's sisters.
In addition to the obvious discontent with the cane, you also hated the balls; that's where most comments about her condition happened. It was so funny and miserable how men and women made remarks about your blindness.
A compliment that quickly came with a false pity for you, and you unfortunate disability – "It's truly a shame such a beautiful face is wasted."
Hypocrites.
You would bet a finger that those who judged you were as horrible as the monsters Feyre invented for you.
Feyre...
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lemontartca · 5 months
Text
Rum Update #3
Okay I did layers 2 and 3 of her faceup today and more... learning experiences, lol.
Layer 2 was kind of a disaster. First, I definitely did too much shading/contouring on layer 1. I also did too much MSC (it was my first time spraying it, I had no idea what I was doing), and my droplet/blotting incident made one side streaky and trying to blend it out only made the splotchiness from the rough texture worse. I really like how the eyeshadow I did came out, but trying to blend the splotchy side of the face made it obviously darker than the other and in the end I... gave up. I tried to erase it, which made the splotchiness worse to the point I went scorched earth and got acetone. That was very touch and go and honestly I still haven't decided if that was a good or bad call. I think neutral because it kind of wrapped back around to where it started, meaning it's no worse but still a time waste. Anyway I washed the whole side away twice trying to make it less splotchy and match the side I liked more. I decided to go ahead and seal in what I had eventually because I needed the MSC back to give the clean side tooth again before I could try to build it up.
That took me about an hour. I let that sit for half an hour before going in for layer 3, which took me about an hour and a half. That one went... better, although the left side of the face still has enough splotchy/streakiness that all the undoing kind of felt pointless, especially since it made her eyeshadow suffer on that side too and I really like how it looks on the "good" side.
I was getting nowhere with her yellow eyes on the orange vinyl until I remembered you can wet the watercolor pencils to get more color and that helped with payoff. Unfortunately, I don't have the reds and oranges I need to pull off my plan, and I'm honestly not sure how possible it is without paint, but I locked in my base colors and I plan to go back for one last layer fixing up the lips and brows (they're only loosely sketched in rn) and adding the highlights and details into the eyes as much as possible. She's also supposed to have a soft white stripe down the center of her face that I tried to do but really doesn't show up on camera so I'm trying to decide if I'm leaving that as is or going to try committing more to it.
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Here she is right now. Behind her is my original plan for her faceup. Color is a little blown out from my lighting but she's coming out way better than I worried she might! I was afraid I'd be terrible at this and I think I'm just learning right now and it'll get way better with practice :) I'm planning to change the black stripe placement to cover up some of the stripey/splotchiness on her left cheek (you can't really see it head on, just from that side. Unfortunately my doll shelf is positioned so that's the side facing me in the room). I'll bust out paints for the stripes and probably - eventually - use them on the eyes too, I just don't have any right now. I was waiting to see how I liked this and if pencils were enough before spending more money but I'll definitely be doing more of these so it's worth it lol.
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kinetic-elaboration · 2 years
Text
May 18: Orphan Black 5x05
Today’s ep of OB had a lot of information in it, which is good for the show, especially with only half a season left, but bad for me personally because I am feeling a little sick and it’s hard to concentrate.
I get the rough contours, and I appreciate that things seem to be coming together in a way that is simple enough to make sense, basically fits with the already established timeline (except, where is Ethan in all this? I’d like to remember he exists), and is sufficiently sinister. The line from their initial creepy experiments to Kira made sense to me, and it seemed to fit in with the rationale and simplistic thought processes of the scientists, their disrespect for the humans they treat as objects, and the complexity of science: they want to increase life, they see a self-healing gene, they put it in some new people they’ve created to see what it does, and it doesn’t do anything. But then it manifests later in a generation that was never supposed to exist. They don’t know what they’re doing, they’re stumbling in the dark, they make progress but it’s almost by chance. I think it balances ‘smart enough to do a lot of damage’ with ‘limited and weak enough for that damage to spiral out of control.’
And it confirms my previous thoughts that Kira was what they were looking for all along. When I read a text correctly and my assumptions about it play out, I feel like that is a well-written, well-conceived text.
I think the show is getting better at tapping into really primal fears, also. The big S1 reveal that the clones are “patented” was a huge let down to me because that is simply not enforceable, and the show never did much to convince me that the law was changing on that score. But S4 and this season are much more elemental, centering the horror in places (not the law) that it is strong: experiments on children, core bodily autonomy concerns, fertility. Harvesting the eggs of a child to make thousands of bodies to experiment on is top tier sinister. It instinctively makes me recoil.
I did not like that this was such a heavy Delphine episode. I dislike Delphine and I dislike Cosima and Delphine--breaking news there. I thought the flashback was essentially a retcon, and also a bizarre choice in terms of creating narrative tension. We basically know that Delphine is ride or die at this point but there’s always a tiny bit of suspicion that maybe this is all an incredibly elaborate octuple-cross or something. She is shady af, her relationship with Cosima is toxic, and she has a certain hubris. When she was talking about not being able to tell Cosima everything yet, I immediately thought “bitch, you have not earned the right to be the gatekeeper of information.’ Because she hasn’t! Compare her to S, for example. S has earned it: she is the mother of a clone, the grandmother of a special clone-child, a person with a huge network and a background in revolutionary criminality... on both the human and practical level she should and can be coordinating plot efforts against the bad guys. Seeing her sit across from Delphine and plan things as if they were the co-CEOs of the Not Neolution Group was infuriating.
I was even more pissed off by the Delphine/Cosima scene where Cosima literally breaks down the core problems of their relationship, and then instead of addressing these very real and very serious, foundational issues, they just kiss and say “PT always tries to divide women.” !!! Never has there been clearer evidence that this couple has no purpose than fan service. I’m sorry ladies but PT did not force Delphine to consistently violate Cosima’s consent at literally every turn. Like “you do things without my consent,” especially in this context, where her very existence as a person with full human rights has been consistently undermined her whole life, that is a damning criticism. What this couple wants to be is another toxic iteration of the theme: unlike Dyad/Neolution, Delphine has good intentions toward Cosima, but just like them, she thinks she knows better than Cosima and can manipulate her, and what information she has, and what happens to her, from this place of superiority. She’s patronizing. I know they’re endgame but it would have been so much more satisfying if Cosima had just recognized all this and called it out--and not blamed it on a man because I know he’s the villain, but this is one thing you cannot pin on him, convenient as that would be.
Speaking of annoying cliches, they didn’t really play it up that much, but PT giving Cosima the gun and training it on Yannis and saying ‘you should be ethical and end his suffering’ was so annoying. I was probably extra-annoyed because on T100 that moment would absolutely have been played to present PT as right. At least here he was refuted, though ‘I won’t let you take my humanity’ isn’t exactly my critique--to me, the problem is that Yannis does not appear to be physically injured in a critical way (as established, this is hard to do), so the argument for mercy has to be founded on the idea that he’s mentally too damaged to live. Which is a horrific stance. Yannis becomes violent when scared and he’s been deeply abused, but he still has understanding. He knows who Mud is, he returned home because he saw it as home. There is no ethics in killing him. I feel like that was gestured to but not sufficiently explicated for my taste. For an ep that included other strong, quotable statements of theme, including in that scene, I think Cosima should have been able to talk about what he deserves, respect for him as a fellow human no matter what had been done to him, and compassion for him, both in general, and as a fellow-subject. An undertone of this is that if Cosima or one of her sisters had something in them that would help PT avoid death, he’d do to her whatever he had to do to chase that possibility, even if it meant leaving her just as broken and injured as Yannis. She is the same as him. A philosophy not grounded in respect for humans and humanity will always lead to this. If you’re going to be heavy-handed anywhere, I think it should be here.
Case in point that Cosima is the next Yannis: she’s currently locked up in the same cage.
Anyway, I feel a little better, but my stomach is still not great. Shower and maybe some late night tea now.
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honeykaes · 2 years
Text
—𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞
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warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact
disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, nipple play, sleepy sex, overstimulation, body worship, fingering, implied breeding kink, creampie, slight cum eating, unedited
w/c: 1.1k
summary: as you try to wake up to help the traveler work on commissions, you are stopped by your sleepy boyfriend not wanting you to leave the bed.
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Mornings were always rough, especially when you stayed up last night in the tender embrace of your gentle lover.
Your eyes slowly fluttered open, wrapped up in your comfortable sheets. You could hear your partner's soft snores and the slight hissing erupting from the air conditioner. You shifted your position as the golden rays of morning light leaked out of the curtains and onto the bed’s comforter. Slender and lean-muscular pale arms were wrapped around your figure. The corners of your mouth turned upright as you turned your body around to see the face of your significant other.
Kazuha's eyes were closed with his long pale eyelashes. His pink lips made his mouth slightly agape as soft snores escaped them. His long silver cascaded onto his pillow. A small smile on the wandering samurai’s face you loved whenever he was awake or asleep. Your hand gently caressed his cheek feeling the body heat he was emitting. Your eyes wandered to your clock—it was 6:25 a.m.
You stretched your sore legs from last night's endeavors as a whine escaped your lips. You had to start getting ready for commissions early if you wanted the better ones. You didn’t want to hear the Traveler’s sour remarks as one of their traveling companion partners.
You shifted your body once more, but your movements were restricted by Kazuha’s tight grip. You playfully roll your eyes at your boyfriend. Even when he was asleep, he still hated when you left the bed before him. You hummed slightly poking Kazuha’s nose to try to wake him up.
“Kazuha...Ka-zu-ha’...” you cooed. Kazuha let out a soft sigh before cracking open one of his ruby orbs, lips contoured into a small pout.
“Can’t we just stay like this for a little longer? After everything, I kept waking up throughout the night. I probably got 2 hours of sleep. I’m still quite exhausted, dove,” he muttered, voice deeper due to his exhausted state. You rubbed his soft cheek, lips slightly pouting. It’s not like you didn’t want to stay, but you didn’t want the Traveler or Paimon on your ass today.
“I would, but you know how hard the Traveler works. If they found out I was late, I’d probably not be able to live it down. Paimon would also give me a not so clever nickname too,” you joked, trying to move your body out of his grasp. You partially succeeded as one of your legs managed to plant itself on the cold otogi wooden floor. Suddenly, Kazuha pulled you back with some force, causing you to gasp in reaction. His body straddled your hands, pinning one of your wrists to the silky sheets.
“Kazuha! Why are you acting like this? Stop playing around’” you whined. He let out a deep chuckle and buried his face into your neck, his hand playing grabbing on a chunk of your upper thigh. His lips pressed down on several spots on your sensitive neck. You shuttered, feeling him smirk on your skin. You were sure he was looking at the hickies he had left hours prior.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t want my dove to leave,” Kazuha blew in your ear, causing you to shiver once more. You playfully rolled your eyes and turned your body towards him. His hands began to wander once more, pressing against your entrance. A soft moan left your lips as his lips slowly trailed down to your exposed chest. The samurai prodded his tongue out slowly licking the bud of your nipple, before connecting his mouth to it altogether.
He slowly suckled on it, two fingers gathering the slick beginning to build up in your entrance. He slipped in two fingers—causing you to breathe in sharply, his digiting stretching out your gummy walls in a scissoring motion.
“Kazuha, but I need to—”
“You need to let me take care of you, love,” he murmured before putting his mouth to use on your bud’s twin. Another moan escaped your lips as you felt him maneuver you to the side. Your hole was sobbing wet, fingers dripping with your essence. Kazuha pressed his lips against your back before rubbing his length along the curve of your as. He let out a sharp breath right in your ear, letting the tip nudge against your throbbing clit every so often.
“Don’t you feel how much I desire you dove? Always tempting me with your wondrous body…soft skin and luscious curves. Sometimes I feel like a beast, never satiated, wanting only to be inside you over…and over…and over again,” Kazuha moaned in your ear as your lip trembled. Kazuha slowly lifted your leg up, rubbing the bright pink tip along your wet folds—slapping it against your clit—before finally slipping it inside.
Kazuha let out a breathy moan feeling your velvety walls extend to make room for his length. His veins rubbed across your sensitive areas, your cunt caving in tighter and tighter against his cock. He pressed against you tighter, feeling the meat of your ass press against his pelvis. His fingers dripped down to your clit, slowly painting the letter of his name along with it. It was beginning to be too much for you to handle, your body already sensitive from the samurai’s actions last night.
“Don’t you like this feeling of being full by me? Cock stretching you out as your body twitches against mine? Your moans are a beautiful symphony I might add…” Kazuha murmured once more. It wasn’t long until your back arched, a string of his name echoing from your lips as your body shook reaching your high. Your walls were milking his cock, clenching tightly as Kazuha could barely thrust up. His hand traveled to your lower stomach, feeling the slow rutting of his cock bulge against your stomach.
“So good, so good, so good…” Kazuha repeated over and over again. He clenched his jaw tight, pace going slightly faster as he spurted his cum inside of you, slowly fucking it inside of you. Your body felt warm against his tight grip hearing his beautiful moans mutter your name in a husky voice. With a satisfied sigh, Kazuha nuzzled against you, softening cock still warm inside of you. His finger drifted down, swiping some of his essences that manage to dribble down, before lapping it up and pressing it against your lips. Your parted your lips, tongue lapping up the salty substance with a smile on your face. You drifted your eyes clothes, feeling Kazuha gently pat against your lower stomach.
“This is the third time you’ve cum inside of me in three days…I feel like you have some sort of agenda, Kazuha,” you muttered, exhaustion beginning to get to you. Kazuha chuckled, humming in amusement.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dove.”
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shoutogepi · 3 years
Text
A Million Times Over, part 2
┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.4k 
[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : NSFW references (no explicit smut this chapter)
𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Yaaaaaa babie so part 2 is finally finished! I’m wicked excited to finish the series next chapter and ughhh the smut is gonna be so good omg. Just wait. 
𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : shout out to @shotoh for beta-reading this for me, what a saint <3 
└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘
─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
🄸t was warm.
There was something heavy on your middle, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance— it was a welcome weight, one that somehow made comfort seep from your chest and fill the rest of your body with a quiet sense of peace. You hummed as sleep’s grasp on you lightened, the cogs in your mind beginning to turn. The hospital bed had never been this comfortable before, and the acrid smell of antiseptic and bustle of the doctors outside your door was peculiarly absent. Instead, a pleasant scent of laundry and cologne lingered on your pillowcase, making the corners of your mouth pull up in a droopy smile.
Your eyes opened as you recalled where you were, and whose arms you were lying in— whose gentle breaths blew at your hair and tickled the shell of your ear. Letting out a slow exhale, you blinked the sleep from your eyes, legs attempting to move, only to find them tangled with the muscled calves of your bedmate who, you prayed to whatever divine presence that was out there, was still asleep.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
However, when you tried to move away, a low groan sounded in your ear, scattering the stray hairs that laid out of place there. Like a sleeping bear, the arm around your waist curled around you tighter, pressing your entire body directly against the hard contour of his. You swallowed, blinking owlishly as you tried not to think about the sizeable semi-hardness poking into your backside, nor the rough fingertips that splayed out on the smooth expanse of your stomach at the bottom of your shirt, the very pinky dipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts and panties, palm warming your skin just enough to make your heart awaken for the day.
Your breath was caught in your throat, and you didn’t dare move another inch. Even if you didn’t have your memories of the man you shared your life with for the past few years, the moments the two of you had shared throughout the past week were enough to have butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach. The feeling of simply being in his arms, tucked under the sheets and cocooned in his warmth and his scent, it all had your body feeling like it was at peace.
At home.
Shouto’s hand was lying open beside your face, his arm tucked underneath your neck as he must’ve fallen asleep spooning you, and not since shifted away throughout the night. His fingers twitched in his sleep just slightly, and you took the moment to admire the long, slender digits. For a man of his size and stature, they were surprisingly thin, almost as if in another life he could have tickled piano keys for a living. But they were also marred with scars and calluses from his herowork— none open nor recent, seeing as he had taken the last month off to watch over you. Reaching for his hand, you traced the lines on his palm, trailing your fingertips over his skin and finding yourself lost in thought. You wondered if this was how you usually slept, if this was what you woke up to every day…
If that was your reality, you would happily accept it.
Being in Shouto’s arms made you feel safe, protected from the troubles of life. You already harbored silly feelings for him before you had even met him, and now that you had, those feelings had only been amplified, each day spent with him a catalyst to the reaction he triggered in your heart.
You bit your lip, twisting your spine so you could look at him. Holding your breath as you finally laid eyes on him, you took your time to admire him in all his slumbered glory. Your eyes loitered on his high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jawline, and then the placid expression he donned while he slept, not plagued with the usual lacing of concern that he wore throughout the day. He was so… handsome. In all his hardened, heroic glory, he still managed to look like a prince straight out of every little girl’s storybook. And he certainly had the body to go with it as well— the fruits of his training on full display for you as you marveled at his naked chest.
Your heart leapt into your throat when he stirred, his arm around your waist coming to rub at his tired eyes. Watching his grey eye open slightly, your breath caught at the crooked grin that blossomed on his lips when he locked eyes with you.
“Mmm morning princess,” he rumbled, hand landing on your stomach to push your body backwards into his. He didn’t mind the little squeak of surprise you let out, nuzzling his face into your neck and slinging his leg across your hips once he flattened them onto the mattress. Your face felt like it was on fire, his morning… problem pressed firmly against your back now as he moaned in content, scattering lazy kisses across your throat.
You gasped when his hand on your stomach suddenly jumped up to grope your breast over your shirt, his fingers kneading tenderly as tingles fired across your nerves. It felt good to be receiving his unbridled affection— too good, really, as he started to suck at your neck. Your body cried out for his touch but you had barely even kissed last night— this was too much, too fast.
“Sh-Shouto!”
He paused, head rearing back as he detected the urgency in your voice, sleepy eyes locking with yours with his brows furrowed underneath his frazzled bed-head. It took him a moment before his eyes widened and horror replaced the slumber that had impeded his judgement before, his body jumping to the other side of the bed instantly as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I— I’m so sorry, Y/n, fuck— I didn’t…” he stammered, embarrassment evident as the pink turned to red, little flames sprouting on the left side of his head while his eyes flew about, unable to meet your gaze.
You instantly felt guilty, his demeanor apologetic. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I was just… it was just, um, unexpected?” you tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a choke.
“Damn it…” Shouto mumbled, his hands coming to drag across his face morosely. The flames that licked at his side sizzled out, indicating that he was no longer so much shocked as he was contrite. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, muffled by his hands that still occupied his face. “It was just… I forgot for a second and... I didn’t mean to— to, well, come onto you. God, I’m sorry.”
You watched him for a second, your heart suddenly heavy with the sadness that leaked from his choice of words. For the first time in a long time, he had woken up with you in his arms, and he had forgotten about the absolute shitstorm of the month he’d had. That was probably how he acted when he woke up normally, as your sweet and loving boyfriend— showering you in affection was his first instinct of the day, and there was nothing wrong with that.
“It’s really okay, Sho. I was just surprised,” you peeped, trying to relieve him of some of the stress that he was so apparently harboring. “It’s not like I hated it…”
Shouto processed your words for a moment before one hand rose from his face, his brow contorted into a mix between accusatory and suggestive. There was a hint of a smile threatening to bloom on his lips, but he remained silent as he stared at you.
“I just meant that— well… we could lay here for a bit before we get up for the day. If… If that’s our usual routine or, if you would be interested in that!” You could feel your face getting hot now, the embarrassment transferring from him to you.
But Shouto chose not to tease you, instead scooting back over to you in the middle of the bed. “You always did like your morning cuddles,” he said, mouth turning at the corners into a smirk.
“Whatever, just— just keep your third leg to yourself, okay? Arms only!” You shared a quick look with him, the both of you shocked that you had really just said that.
But Shouto followed your request, flipping so he laid on his belly before his arm hooked out to bring you into his side, nose pressing up against your ear as you were on your back. The butterflies were back and busy again in your stomach— his touch just did something to you, it was both exhilarating and infuriating when he had hardly done anything. 
“Never heard that one before,” he murmured lowly, snark lurking in his voice. “You’re usually quite fond of my third leg, dear.”
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
The rest of the morning went more according to plan. After a considerable amount of time lying in the sheets with Shouto cuddling into your side, you finally parted ways and went about getting ready for the day. There was a sense of giddiness pumping through your veins as your boyfriend left you stationed in front of your closet, mumbling something about preparation before you headed out.
Mostly, you were looking forward to going on your date. But then, there was also the surprised excitement that came from the sight of your walk-in closet, complete with rows of neatly organized clothes and a built-in wall with shelves and drawers, even a glass display case full of glittering jewels and gems in designs all tailored to your taste. You took a moment to pat yourself on the back. Not only did you seem to have the man of your dreams, but you had also attained your dream closet? If this was truly a dream, you most definitely did not want to wake up.
It took you an absurdly long amount of time to piece together your outfit. It was partially because you stopped to ogle at pretty much every hanger you rifled through, and partially because you were completely unsure of what clothes Shouto particularly enjoyed seeing you in. There was a sneaking suspicion that his preference was for you to not be clothed at all… but it wasn’t like you could go out on your date in your birthday suit. And, that would mean exposing your bare body to him, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet.
But that didn’t mean you weren’t insanely attracted to him— because you definitely were. Just, the situation you were in was a delicate one, and when you did decide to indulge in the physicalities of your relationship, it would be after you had no more questions to ask him. You just weren’t quite there yet.
So, you decided on a pair of dark jeans and a flowy blouse that showcased your shoulders, matching the color of your shoes, belt, and purse. After a quick makeup routine, you chose to spruce up the outfit with a little jewelry, seeing as you had quite an ample selection to choose from. A shiny pair of hoops for your ears came easily enough, but you struggled to find a necklace which would pull everything together. Your eyes wandered over the chains of gold and silver, some shining with bright gems and some intricate enough with just the curve of the metal. It was then that you noticed a simple but very elegant necklace, its blue-topaz pendant catching your gaze. As you inspected the glittering stone, a warm feeling pooled in your chest, and you found your fingers reaching for the jewelry without thought. There was something special about this necklace, but what, exactly, you couldn’t identify.
It was incredibly frustrating. This was the closest you had come to remembering anything since you had woken up a week ago… and while it was certainly progress, it was infuriating to have the recollection dangling just barely out of your reach. You stared at the brilliant cyan gem for another moment before deciding that you weren’t going to remember based on willpower alone, securing the clasp around your neck. If that were the case, then you would have your memory back already, you were sure. You left the room with your shoes in hand, sock-clad feet padding quietly against the shiny hardwood floors while a sour taste dwelled on the back of your tongue.
Yet somehow, the second your eyes met Shouto’s, the feeling of self-loathing was instantly quelled, replaced with a pleasant wave of some feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes had locked onto the stone around your neck right as you walked into the kitchen, and immediately a smile graced his lips as he found your gaze.
You couldn’t help but return one, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning to him, overwhelmed with the tingles that zipped through you. He hadn’t really given you the chance to take in the outfit he had chosen before he left you to dress, and you found yourself appreciating the soft, cream sweater that fell just over his denim-clad hips.
“Wow, you look…” his eyes trailed down your form and then back up, his smile just as full. He let out a soft laugh, head tilting back before his attention returned to you, as if he didn’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
You already knew you looked good, but still, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue made your stomach leap up beside your heart. “Thank you, Sho. You look beautiful, too,” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.
Even though his cheeks dusted with a light pink, his expression remained unchanged, gaze dropping to the pendant resting in the middle of your chest again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.
Just as you were about to tell him about the feeling you’d gotten earlier, he turned and grabbed some things from the counter behind him, whisking them into his arms. There was a curious look you shot him as you examined the numerous hats he offered to you, one of your brows rising at the variety.
Shouto didn’t give you the chance to ask, launching into explanation without your prompt. “You and I are technically celebrities. So it’s best if we conceal our faces while we’re out in public.” His gaze dropped to the brim of the gray suede boater in his hand, his thumb trailing across the soft material. “I don’t want you ambushed today. The public has missed you while you’ve been out of commission, so if we’re spotted, I’ll have to share you… and I don’t think either of us is ready for that quite yet.”
You nodded, ignoring the giddiness that bloomed in the depths of your stomach at his choice of words. Reaching for a floppy hat, your fingers brushed over his sweater as you grabbed your choice of camouflage. The fit was snug around your head, the silky ribbon tied around the crown the perfect match to your shoes. Shouto put on his hat as well, making sure to tuck the white half of his hair up and out of sight, giving him a faux monochromatic appearance. He wordlessly handed you a pair of large sunglasses, which you slid onto your face without protest. He mirrored your action, choosing a dark pair of aviators that helped disguise his famous scar.
“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin for full emphasis. The movement put a little smile on Shouto’s face, his eyes roaming your figure leisurely before he offered a thumbs up.
“Enchanting as always, love,” he replied stoically, the suavity and candor of his response aiding to the warm, swirling feeling in your stomach. But his expression morphed into a playful smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about me?”
A laugh trickled out of you as he copied your twirl, his execution somehow more graceful than yours. His pink lips curled into a genuine smile at your giggle, ending his mock demonstration in a curtsey. This only caused you to swat at him in exaggeration, taking the first steps towards the door.
“Equally enchanting,” you replied, not a hint of a lie in your voice. Your conviction made Shouto stutter, his grin melting to a flustered purse of the lip. It was then that you took his hand decisively, chuckling as you placed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Ready to go.”
It took him a moment to buffer, but he quickly recovered, a warm flush coloring his cheeks as his fingers squeezed yours. The digits of his other hand curled around the small of your waist, guiding you through the door.
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
Your eyes widened as Shouto pulled the sleek car into the parking space, your surroundings somewhat familiar. When you had asked where he was taking you, he hadn’t revealed any clues, preferring to give a vague “someplace you’ll enjoy” before effectively killing the conversation. You probably should’ve expected it, but surprise overtook you as you turned the sidewalk corner and there stood the cat cafe the pair of you had passed on your way back from the hospital just yesterday.
When you turned to look at Shouto, his eyes were already inspecting your reaction, the excitement written obviously all over your face. He regarded you with a quiet, knowing smile as he opened the door for you, the bell tinkling overhead and the quiet mewls of kittens further inside distinctly ringing in your ears. Right as you stepped inside, a fluffy, smoosh-face cat curled around your ankles, brushing and sniffing at you in greeting. Shouto made a joke about the fluffy beast being the cutest host he’d ever seen, his smile only growing when you laughed in return.
Once you were seated, tucked in a comfy pair of chairs in the corner of the cafe, a waitress came over to take your orders. What took you by surprise was that Shouto ordered for you— the exact confection and drink you were eyeing when you peeked at the menu. He shot you a little smirk at the cuteness of your impressed expression, asking if you’d like to add anything and turning the staff person's attention to you. At your denial, they excused themself, leaving you alone with Shouto once more.
There was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, the other cafe goers could practically see the sparks flying between you.
“So… do we come here a lot?” you inquired, taking a tentative sip of your ice water and training your eyes on the top button of his shirt. It was just too intense to stare him straight in the eye sometimes…
Shouto took a moment to reply, looking through his red and white bangs at you fondly, leaning back in his chair before shaking his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never been here before.” He gauged the surprise in your eyes, a little knowing smile resting on his plump lip before he continued. “You always wanted to try this place but we hadn’t gotten around to it… you even picked out the food you wanted in case we came. I hope your tastes remain unchanged? If I ordered something you don’t want, I’ll call the waiter over.”
It was then your turn to shake your head, a quick and decisive answer. “No, you got it right,” you reassured, hands wringing slowly underneath the table in your lap. “The only other thing I wanted to try was the drink you ordered, so it’s fine!”
“Have as much as you like,” he suavely suggested, his tone sounding more like a demand than an offer. Just as he focused his eyes on yours, he was interrupted by a fuzzy orange kitten jumping into his lap, settling into a tiny loaf across his thighs and staring up at him expectantly.
You and Shouto both buffered for a moment before you let out a laugh at the sight of such a tiny creature in your broad boyfriend’s embrace. Shouto began to chuckle too, giving the creature a little scratch under the chin. The kitten meowed happily in agreement, placing its head onto its paws and settling in for a nap. You let the comfortable silence last for a minute before you meandered back into conversation.
“So um, earlier, when we were getting ready to go out…,” your fingers absentmindedly wandered to the pendant resting in the middle of your collar bones. “I saw this necklace in my closet and I felt like it was… important? And then I thought I caught you looking at it earlier too maybe? Do you know if it has any significant meaning or anything?”
Shouto’s gaze remained on the cat in his lap for another moment before it flicked over to you, and once again, you were stunned by the amount of emotion in his mismatched eyes. “I gave it to you,” he answered, his free hand fiddling with the sunglasses that now hung in the middle of his shirt collar. “It was for our first anniversary.”
You didn't really know what to make of that, the newfound knowledge resonating through you as you tried to remember anything about that day at all.
“I chose that color because you said you loved it… the color of my eyes. Or— eye— I suppose,” he gestured to the piercing cerulean orb that rested on his hot side, standing out even more against the muddled skin of his scar.
Your head nodded as you processed his answer, your finger nudging at the handle of your cutlery absentmindedly. “You do have nice eyes,” you mumbled, your veins pumping with a warmth you'd come to recognize as his natural effect on you.
Shouto smiled at that, his gaze focused on the pendant gleaming in the sun’s gentle caress. You could feel the intensity of his eyes there in the center of your chest, the modest amount of exposed cleavage feeling hot under his inspection.
At his silence, you continued on, your flusteredness forcing your mouth to move without much reason. “And— you have great taste in jewelry too, I mean, this is really beautiful.”
“It suits you,” he replied instantly, as if such words required no thought whatsoever.
That just made your cheeks feel even hotter, and a surprised chuckle sounded past your lips, his compliment egging on the butterfly swarm in your belly. “Thank you… I’m glad you have enough rationale to avoid a cheesy heart with your name on it or something.”
Shouto’s eyes fleed yours at that, taking a tentative sip of his water. You watched his pink lips curl into a subtle, knowing smirk. He yelped when you kicked his ankle underneath the table, gaze returning to you. He regarded your inquisitorial expression for a moment before he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with the lightest of pinks. “I have actually given you something like that before…”
You bit your lip, now wanting to kick yourself for making fun of the sweet yet idiotic, classic boyfriend gift. Heart jewelry, of course…
“And you really liked it… maybe almost as much as me,” he finished, and you watched as his blush deepened a few shades.
The waiter chose that moment to deliver your drinks, the conversation halting awkwardly before they took their leave once again.
“I really liked it?” You parroted, perplexed. There was no way you would find such a cheesy gift endearing enough to actually enjoy it.
Shouto adjusted himself in his chair, clearing his throat awkwardly. His eyes once again couldn’t meet yours, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. “Yeah it— it’s an anklet… it um, has my initials on the charm…” he mumbled, suddenly shy. “You seem to enjoy wearing it when we… when I— when I take you.”
“Oh.”
Your face felt on fire, neither of you brave enough to look each other in the eye following his confession. There wasn’t much you knew about your sex life with Shouto— though you assumed it to be very much alive, and healthily so— but just by the way he phrased that, your thighs were clenching together at the image your brain so kindly painted you.
Shouto was a big, strong man… one who was very proportional, as you recalled from the incident that occurred this morning. The thought of him taking you made your insides squirm with interest, fluttering at the premise of being stretched around him. You took another sip of your drink before the food thankfully arrived, allowing the pair of you to drop the conversation.
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
After you finished eating, Shouto took you to the trader’s market around the corner. There were people crowding the streets and trickling through the crosswalks, even though it was a late morning on a Friday and most of the population should’ve been busying away at their jobs. The bustle of the city should’ve been overwhelming for you— Shouto kept you close to his side at all times, his gaze scrutinizing any looks that lasted too long toward your direction.  And yet, you were having a blast, flittering about and exploring the vendors’ stands and the numerous trinket stalls that lined the busy square. His hand was always holding yours. Even when you got more invested in the items on display before you, his fingers would linger at your waist, making his relationship to you apparent to any bystanders.
Sunlight streamed down in between the tall buildings surrounding you, reflecting off the windows like mirrors and making you grateful for the shade of your hat. That made you extra thankful for the ghost of Shouto’s hand across your skin, welcoming the coolness exuding off of his right side. There was a light-hearted conversation between the pair of you, and many grannies waved you over to inspect their merchandise by calling out to the pair of lovebirds. The repeated label made Shouto puff up in pride, aiding him to stand tall and retain the advantage he had on you in terms of height.
Whenever your gaze lingered on something for a second too long, Shouto was instantly handing bills over to the merchants, insisting they take the change or at least tipping them appreciatively. By the time the two of you had visited every stall, numerous bags hung from his left arm, all precariously stacked so the fingers on his other hand could remain laced with yours.
He noticed your wary gaze on the bags, your expression giving your thoughts away immediately. “Don’t worry love,” he reassured, squeezing your fingers in his, “they’re no trouble at all.” At your attempt to grab a few and lessen the load, he pivoted and held them above your head. He frowned, keeping them out of reach as you continued your attempt, swatting at him gently.
“Just let me have one at least,” you pouted, your voice morphing into a little whine. That got him to grin, conceding and handing you the smallest, lightest bag of the bunch. He feigned ignorance when you shot him a playful glare in response, choosing now to steer you toward another topic instead.
“Would it ruin the date if we stopped by my office? I just need to drop off the folders I finished up last night, and the building is just a block over. It should only take a minute.”
You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Sure,” you agreed, allowing his fingers to slip back into yours. Having your hand in his felt natural to you, the warmth of his skin welcomed. “I want to see your agency, anyway!”
It was a short walk to his workplace, as promised. The building was one of the tallest in the surrounding area, with sleek windows paneling all sides and reflecting the orange light of the barely-setting sun. The security guards didn’t bother the pair of you, Shouto acknowledging them with a nod as he slipped off his disguise. The elevator opened and Shouto flashed his badge at the sensor, then pushed the button for one of the floors higher up in the building.
In no time at all, the doors opened again and he led you past the couple secretaries that were perched behind their desks. You could feel their eyes glued to your back, and you were sure that the second you were safely located behind the glass doors to the hallway, they’d launch into discussion. The thought slipped your mind as you came round the corner, Shouto guiding you through the nearest door and ushering you into a large sitting room. Two doors were situated on either side of the room, long glass walls dividing the quarters. One door led to Shouto’s office, as designated by the nearby nameplate. The other you were about to read just as it opened, and a familiar, sharp-toothed redhead bounded toward the pair of you.
Immediately you grinned, ripping your hand from Shouto’s as you launched yourself at the famed Red Riot, one of Japan’s finest heroes lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace. Your laughs echoed around the room, Kirishima’s chuckles following as he spun you around. Shouto watched silently, a small frown adorning his lip while your gleeful laughs met his ears. He hadn’t heard such a sound in what seemed like forever, and even though he was not the cause of it, he couldn’t help but relish in it.
After a moment, Kirishima put you down and pulled Shouto in for a quick half-hug, patting him on the shoulder as his eyes then returned to you. “Well look who it is,” he grinned, his pointy teeth on display, hands landing on his narrow hips. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Y/n.”
“It’s good to see you too, Kiri,” you mirrored his expression, taking in his appearance.
Shouto watched your eyes rove over him, a sour taste developing at the back of his tongue. You had recognized Kirishima immediately— fondly, even— when it had taken hard work and ample time for you to warm up to him. It had taken a week for you to call him by his usual nickname, and yet, you called Kirishima by his own instantly. He could feel himself turning green at the realization, his frown remaining as his eyes sharpened in scrutiny.
“Wow,” you exclaimed after you had fully appraised the hero, even taking in the scarlet costume that had been updated since the last time you’d seen him. “You look great! Five years has really done you well, hmm? You’re totally ripped. Last time I saw you I swear you were shorter!”
Kirishima laughed and toed at the ground bashfully— never one to handle compliments very well. “Ah, thanks Y/n… gotta stay in shape when your costume has you shirtless all day, right?”
Shouto couldn’t help the envy that rose up inside of him as he watched you chatter eagerly with his coworker… even though he knew you had no control of what memories you lost, it still stung to watch you engage with and compliment another man. Especially when he hadn’t received such easy affection from you in much too long.
“You look much better, too,” Kirishima continued, glancing at Shouto as he picked up on the temperature drop in the room. Somehow you didn’t seem to notice the frost gathering on Shouto’s wrist as a result of his displeasure.  “Erm— last time I saw you was in the hospital when you were still in your coma. I was so relieved to hear you woke up! Then I figured it would be easier for you if you didn’t have any visitors, though… that’s what your f— um, Shouto said would be best, anyway.”  
At the mention of his name, you glanced at the half-and-half man beside you, shooting him a thankful smile that had his heart fluttering and his jealousy waning. He cleared his throat and nodded, casting a forced smile at the other hero. “Yes, well… I have to step into my office quickly, would you entertain her for a moment?”
Kirishima opened his mouth to reply, but Shouto was already halfway through the door, leaving the pair of you slightly stunned. You could see him through the glass wall, eyes following him and wondering why his curt attitude left a bitter taste in your mouth.
“So um…” The redhead turned to look at you, prompting you to do the same. “You really lost all your memories of him?”
The question hit you like he had dunked you in ice cold water, and you stiffened up immediately. Kirishima panicked then, eyes growing wide and covering his mouth.
“I can’t believe I just blurted that out— I just… You guys are so in love, I can’t imagine you two not together,” he explained earnestly, his brow furrowed. His honesty made your stomach burst with butterflies, the premise of being loved by Shouto and being able to love him made you feel flustered as hell.
“We are together,” you clarified, and Kirishima nodded. “Just not as together as before, I guess? It’s just… he makes me feel so many things and I barely know him. But he knows me? Like, intimately. It feels like he knows me more than I know myself sometimes. I dunno, it’s just… complicated, Kiri.”
He smiled in understanding, eyes sympathetic as you spilled your troubles to him. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t Shouto— as much as you liked him, talking to him was difficult because he made you fumble with your words. You said things you didn’t mean to say when you were with him. Kirishima continued, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you guys are crazy in love. Like, you’re the couple I aspire to be in some day.”
You grabbed his hand and grinned at that, his sincerity making your heart melt. “Awe, Kiri… It’s good to see you haven’t changed from how I remember you. You’re still the sweetest.”
Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just be yourself with him… I think it’ll put you both at ease. You’re really good for each other— he was devastated the whole time you were asleep.”
The admission made a lump appear in your throat, your eyes feeling glassy all the sudden.
“He hasn’t acted this frigid since his high school days… Long before he met you. I think you make him feel relaxed. I mean, that’s how he always looks when he’s with you, or thinking about you. I can tell when we’re on patrol and he’s daydreaming about you, ‘cus he’ll just walk right into a lamp pole.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, cursing the timing when the door opened and Shouto stepped out, his eyes landing on you and then hardening as they moved to Kirishima. He stepped toward him, but you intercepted him and laced your arms around his middle instead, stopping him with your embrace.
Shouto faltered at the sudden display of affection, his cheeks growing hot as he locked gazes with Kirishima, his eyes then dropping to the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. He was frozen mid-breath, completely still as you held him. His cool, clean scent swallowed you as you kept your head nuzzled into his front, his fingers limp as your hand found his.
With a small step back, you ceased your embrace, your fingers squeezing his tightly as your eyes captured his and you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks only darkened, the grimace that had occupied his face long gone and instead replaced with an awed blankness. His lips parted and moved pointlessly, as if he wanted to say something but no sound escaped him.
“It was nice catching up Kiri,” you said, eyes still locked with Shouto’s heterochromatic ones before you turned to the red hero, who was awkwardly looking to the side as he shuffled his weight between his feet.
Kirishima looked at you and laughed awkwardly once again. You began to exit with Shouto in tow behind you, the hero’s crimson gaze following the pair of you. “Ah, yeah, you too! Let’s meet up soon!”
Then the glass door closed, and you were once again in the vicinity of the secretaries' blatant gawking. You pointedly ignored them as you strode toward the elevator, with their soundlessly boss still trailing behind you. As you waited for the elevator to ascend to your floor, you caught Shouto looking at you funny in your peripheral vision. Yet when you turned to look at him, he only reached out and pulled you into his chest.
Caught by surprise, a meek noise slipped out of you before you collided with his pecs once again, his arms wrapping around you to secure you in place. He nuzzled into your hair and inhaled deeply, uncaring of the secretaries' stares.
Only when the elevator arrived did he pull away, to guide you inside and away from the prying eyes. When the doors were closed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the crest of your cheek, a wisp of his peppermint-laced breath cooling your skin just as heat rushed there from his lips.
“Let’s go home, love,” Shouto murmured against your skin, knuckles nudging yours before your fingers curled around his. You nodded, holding his arm with your free hand and coming to stand by his side as the elevator rushed toward the ground. A peaceful moment of silence fell upon you and Shouto, giving you time for contemplation.
Any sane woman would've taken one look at Kirishima and felt at least a pinch of interest twirl inside her stomach. He was caring and handsome as they come, and yet he did absolutely nothing for you. Somehow when you were confronted with his chiseled abs and warm gaze, you felt less than when Shouto even glanced at you. You concluded that your body was definitely in love with him… and your heart longed to be the same. But part of you still had questions that needed to be resolved before you could really give yourself to him… and little did he know, you would find the answers to said questions so soon.
─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
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ahh i love this sho so much, he’s trying so hard... poor babie 🥺 next part i will be much kinder to him <3 if you enjoyed please be sure to reblog and or leave me a comment •ᴥ• 
➥ masterlist
𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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stay-midnight · 3 years
Text
Spark of Possessiveness
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> Requested
> Word# - 3.2K Words
> Minho and Jisung x Male Reader
> TWs - Possessiveness, Little to no plot.
> Kinks and Warnings - Top/Dom Minho and Jisung, Bottom/Sub Male Reader, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Consensual, Spitroasting, Marks, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Degradation (Prevalent, I mean alot), Punishment, Soft Aftercare, Jealousy, Cum Swallowing, Barebacking, Minsung is wild, wannabe dom reader.
> A/N - My comeback fic hehe, anyways I wasn't fond of the way I wrote it but hopefully it's enjoyable enough! Thank you anon for giving a Minsung request~
Minho was leaned back on the kitchen counter, gritting his jaw at their now-missing boyfriend, he felt the need to throw his phone away at 21st missed call.
Jisung was not as calmly angry as the other since he was frantically walking back and forth at the amount of time it has been since their boyfriend got coffee (3 hours to be exact).
Minho is incredibly worried knowing they were past idols knowing that people may exact revenge plots at them after coming out to the general public and disbanding the group after so.
Jisung look at the older, “He’s gonna be okay right?!” He asked in a worried tone as to which Minho just nodded and responded with a headpat, which eased Jisung for a bit.
Minho sighed at the unknown location of their lover till they hear a ring from the front door. Jisung with hastened feet and sharp ears, he rushed to the door immediately — leaving Minho in a second but the older shortly trailed after in a bit.
Jisung was fast in unlocking the door, thinking it was you forgetting the keys.
In a moment, Jisung was face to face with 2 familiar set of eyes and a missed gaze.
.
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You were laughing happily with your two companions, jokes aside — you pulled out your phone at the thought of forgetting something and saw 21 missed calls and 15 unread texts in a moment you saw your lockscreen.
Stopping abruptly in your movements, you look towards yours and your boyfriends' front porch — You weren't ready for the anger of your boyfriends after just remembering that you didn't tell them about the sudden meetup. A smile passed your lips in a flash of excitement
You slowly walked up the stairs, gazing at your two friends with a forced smile but at the same time you couldn't ignore the bubbling of excitement from the pit of your stomach. “You good, Y/n?” they both asked in wonders to which you just smiled as a response.
“Yeah, I just forgot my spare key that's all. Do you wanna join for dinner later?” you asked with a bright expression but your mind is collapsing with unholy thoughts at the awaiting sight of angry lovers.
They both shook their heads, “We have things to do, but we’ll greet Minho and Jisung before leaving.” Jeongin answered and lovingly kissing you on the cheek.
Seungmin let out a silent snort before, continuing sauntering up the stair. With shaky hands, you press on the doorbell to which Seungmin and Jeongin just look at each other with confusion at the sight of your trembling fingers.
The door bursted open in a millisecond to reveal a Jisung looking ready to devour a prey or something. “Hi Sungie..”
Jisung eyes darted to the boys next to you before landing on you, “Hello, Y/n” He says, hiding a different tone of his voice before smiling light-heartedly at Seungmin and Jeongin before he looked at you.
“Are you both coming in?” he asked in a patient tone, but his hands were getting antsy.
“Nope! We’re just here to bid farewell after seeing you and.. Where is Lee Know-hyung? Is he here?” Jeongin asks curiously, trying to get a peek to the inside of the house by looking over Jisung’s shoulders.
Speak of the devil, Minho appeared behind Jisung shortly with a blank face before he turned to look at you with a totally-not-nice-and-has-evil-plans kind of glint.
To which you just ignore by letting out an awkward cough,
“Well, We have things to do right now.. Good seeing both of you after two years!” Jisung voiced quickly before basically grabbing the clearly nervous boy at the middle.
“You too—” Jeongin got cut short by a slam of the door.
“Is that how normally he greets old friends?” Jeongin piped up in question, looking at the taller for his reaction at Jisung’s unnerving dismissal.
Seungmin raised his shoulders as an answer before he turned to look at the younger, “Maybe he’s still mad when we plotted to bring him in a poly relationship.” Seungmin sighed, walking down the stairs with calm steps — seeming unworried and carefree at possible redflags.
“Plotted? You make it sound so evil—” Jeongin responded with a disagreeing huff.
Seungmin rolled his eyes, “Let’s just go~ I wanna rest at our new apartment.” He yawns, hooking his arm around Jeongin when he got into his reach.
“M'kay ” The other agreed.
.
.
.
“Will he be okay though—” Jeongin asks in a worried tone.
“Dunno, Minho and Jisung are a kinky bunch.” Seungmin responded calm as ever.
“How do you know that?!” Jeongin looked at Seungmin with his jaw dropped and like a snooping fox, he was curious for juicy information.
Seungmin let out an airy laugh, “Wishing I didn't know it though.” The older responsed, a flashback flying over his head as a frown on his lips appeared.
.
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Jisung slowly led you inside your home to which he let you sit on the couch while he stared down at you impatiently with a raised eyebrow — repeatedly tapping the floor with his foot. Eyes piercing you.
Minho was not giving off as much presence as the quokka but his cold resting face was enough to send shivers down your spine
While you, a bunny clearly trapped inside a den with beasts hungering for you and a reason.
“I left my phone accidentally on silent...” you mumbled out, lowering your own head in embarrassment. Jisung clicked his tongue and Minho walks over, sitting right next to you. Looking at you with a glare that caused you to stay silent while Jisung licked his lips in anticipation, clearly turned on by the elder’s gaze.
He grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. His hold forcing you to pucker your lips, your Adam’s apple bobbing at the fact your own dick was getting hard from this, too which Jisung immediately took notice, smirking at the small bulge appearing.
“That’s not a good enough reason, Y/n.” Minho said sharply, his voice dripping with arrogance. Minho doesn't like playing and you know that, his punishments are rough — you know that from experience. Jisung of course, was having a good time at how the elder was talking to you — his own length spraining against the jeans he was wearing.
“It’s the only reason I have—” You defended, earning a tight hair pull from Minho which made a whine escape from your throat. Jisung was also getting restless and impatient and Minho immediately took notice.
“Head to our room Ji. I’ll bring the whore in a bit.” He said in a tone which you both found frightening and a turn on. Jisung nodded and grinned straight at you before rushing to the room in excitement.
With Jisung gone, Minho initiated a rough kiss with you to which you tried to return as much as you could but it ended up being a messy and wet kiss.
Minho continued the kiss, pushing you down the couch in doing so. Bringing you closer to him before pulling away with a hum, “Don’t you have something to say, slut?” He asked, wrapping his hand around your throat — not squeezing but enough to make you constricted in a way as you rutted against his thigh that he placed between your legs. Your cock was throbbing inside your boxers as you already felt your high coming on in a bit which Minho didn't take notice off.
You opened your mouth but a moan slipped out causing your top to chuckle amusedly at how much needy you were right now. “I— I’m sorry...” you said in the sincerest way possible, you rutted against Minho’s muscular thighs and in a bit you came inside your boxers.
Minho looked at your blissed-out face and that's when he noticed a very small wet spot pooling on your jeans. “Ji wouldn't like this.” Minho laughed amusingly, knowing that Jisung doesn't like anyone releasing until he said so. (That also applies to himself.)
He withdrew his hand from your neck — you finally releasing a breath you didn't know you needed. He stood up soon after, gesturing you to follow to which you did — following him with small footsteps.
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Jisung eyes lit as you and Minho entered the room, he was disappointed though that you both still had clothes on.
He was okay with it though, what he didn't like was the wet spot visible on your clothed crotch, his eyes looked scary, like a ferocious animal.
Jisung stood up to which you looked at him questionably, completely unaware of Jisung’s dislike of releasing before himself.
You watched as Jisung stopped in front of you and before you knew it, you were pinned against the recently closed door, his strong hands trapping your arms behind your back. “Kinda unfair, you came before us.” he said through clenched teeth, pressing you harder against the door.
Minho took a sit on the bed, letting the younger have his own fun.
“Taking our cum would be a great way to makeup, don’t you think?” Jisung said, biting the top of your ear softly.
“Y- Yes, Sungie..” You said in a small voice.
“Good.” he hums, satisfied a little.
He pulls away and sat down back slowly with Minho in a bed, the older wearing an obnoxious grin as he leaned to whisper words into the Jisung’s ear causing his face to contort into one of an amused expression.
They then turned to you standing there, looking confused of their secret conversation. Jisung didn't like that though, “What did I tell you, baby?”
Your mind was blank before you mumbled a “Sorry.”
Jisung huffs disapprovingly but inches you to continue.
You first remove your shirt, a little bit of marks appearing faded, now contouring a bit more into your skin tone. The marks are from last night’s wild but fun time. Jisung smirks widens, his pride getting uplifted by the marks he left on your clavicle, while Minho just smiled satisfied at the teeth marks on the outside skin of both your nipples.
You typically shy away from their stares but now, feeling a bit confident (and bratty), words leave your mouth that was unexpected by your boyfriends, “You seem to like what you see.” You said, filling your voice with a mocking tone that flared up both of them up.
“Maybe I should instead punish you both i— instead for being needy.” Your voice wavering at the middle of the sentence, but you expertly covered it with a cough.
Minho stood up suddenly,
His eyes, gazed at you, “Such a talkative slut, aren't you?” He stated, his face serious as he slid his hand down your pants before pulling you close to him. “Look at you trying to act all dominant, in the end though, you just want to be fucked.” Minho stated, sliding his hand now through your boxers.
“Is that why, you went out with Seungmin and Jeongin? To be fucked?” He asks, Jisung in your sideview staring at you with a glare as he waited shortly for answer.
Your still kept a challenging gaze on Minho, trying to keep composure and not give in. “No. I went out with them so I could fuck th—” Minho grabbed your dick, stroking it forward angrily before you could finish your sentence, a quiet mewl passing your lips.
Jisung grumbled something behind him.
“Watch your words.” Minho said bitterly, his other hand finding way to your buttocks.
Your eyes glazed over the dominant before he withdrew his hands inside your boxers, before he threw you on the bed, surprising you and Jisung.
You try to pull yourself up but Minho encased you, his strong chest making contact with your back.
“Stay still like a good little bitch, and we’ll actually let you cum. Unless you want the same thing to happen the last time we punished you, hm?”
Minho’s voice was slick, calm and punishing but at the same time, just really hot. Your bulge felt uncomfortable against the bedsheet.
Jisung wanted to join in the fun too so he moved closer and grabbed your hair making you look up at him, “He put you in your place so easily, Where did all your confidence go? What was that about fucking us?” Jisung mocked as you glared at back pathetically.
Jisung did the honors of pulling your pants down with ease, Minho went to grab items needed before Jisung landed a harsh slap on your ass, your lips bruising as you bit it to catch a moan from slipping out.
Minho smirked and signalled Jisung to get into position as the man complied, Minho already slicked two of his fingers before he placed his fingers between your crack teasingly wetting your twitchy hole with cold lube.
Minho rubbed your rim as you glared at your other lover at the front of you, you looked up to Jisung in feigned annoyance due to his hands pinning you down.
Jisung’s eyebrow twitched in irritation before he mumbled through soft lips, “Color?”
You look up at him throwing your act away for a moment, “Green.” you answered before gritting your teeth to which the Jisung noticed and his face shifted into exasperation of your attitude.
Jisung started to undress himself, first unbuttoning his jeans before throwing away his shirt, revealing his buff body and slim waist to which you tried your best not to gawk at.
Jisung then smirked, “You seem a bit dazed, pretty toy~” He said, mocking you as he noticed your submissive nature starting to unfold just from your expression.
Minho then heard what Jisung and his smirked widened before he finally inserted two fingers into your ass, Minho’s own dick was getting hard from your hole swallowing his fingers.
Jisung signalled Minho to do something before Jisung stood up and went away from your sight, clearly planning something.
You were irritated at the lack of attention to your prostate so you shamelessly push back against Minho’s digits to which Minho responded with a mocking laugh, “See. You like this, wonder how did you even think of fucking us. When we know how much you like having cocks fill your hole.” He said amused.
You laughed, “Oh really? Maybe I should fuck you dumb to pro—” Minho clearly had enough of your act as he jabbed his fingers as deep as he can making you choke on your own spit — not even finishing your sentence.
You felt both of them turn you sideways and flip you over so that your legs were spread and your head hanging at the side of the bed, you were faced with an upside down Jisung with playful grin as your own dick was laid flat on your stomach leaking precum against your tummy, smearing it white.
“I think the slut needs his mouth shut, don’t you think Min?” Jisung said playfully, sparing a glance at Minho before turning to you.
Minho looked amused by Jisung’s word before nodding at him in a very agreeing manner.
Jisung’s dick was very hard and approximately shorter than Minho’s size, red at the tip and veins prodding his side, it was curved outwards and pretty overall, matching his buff yet slim body.
His dick slapped against your face as he look at you teasingly, “Open your pretty mouth toy.” Jisung said roughly, slapping his dick against your cheek.
Minho saw this and clicked his tongue, removing his fingers to which you sighed at.
Minho removed his clothes swiftly as the wind, throwing away his shirt and showing his full body in display for Jisung to see.
He looked at Jisung with a glint in his eyes before his hand slapped your dick harshly to which you couldn't contain a loud moan in, Jisung took the chance and slid his dick into your mouth and down your throat, your neck slightly bulged from this man’s cock.
Minho took pleasure at the sight of Jisung’s dick fitting against your mouth, so too, he wanted to join. He quickly drizzled lube on his dick before pushing against your hole, eliciting a choked out sound against Jisung’s cock.
“Good little cockslut, taking both me and Sungie’s cock. See, look at your useless dick.” Minho said, grabbing your cock, squeezing your leaking tip while watching you choke on your words against Jisung’s cock with a satisfied expression
“Wet and messy. You can't even fuck a fleshlight properly, what makes you think you can fuck us?” Said Minho, his voice intoxicating and seductive as he continuously pushed until his hips connected with your ass and his dick pushed near up to your abdomen.
Jisung continued his thrusts, taking pleasure from your mouth’s wet cavern, he curses under his breath at how close he was already.
Minho took this chance to grab your waist, slamming into you vigorously at the same time Jisung pulled away. They both panted as they thrust in a rhythm.
After both were consumed by pleasure and lust, barely any words were exchanged — and the sound that were enveloping the room was the squelch of lube, skin slapping against skin, breathless pants, and your drowned out moans.
Jisung sighs after a while as he came down your throat as you swallowed it, though your mouth was probably gonna be sore in the morning atleast it was fun seeing them being possessive.
Minho took alot while to finish as Jisung already pulled out of your mouth as your laid your back tired as you just let Minho plow your used hole, pulling you back on his cock while you let out weak moans every now and then when your good spot was hit.
Your head felt funny and didn't even notice Minho pulling out and coming on your stomach with some his cum reaching up to your lips. “Fuck.” he groaned out as he panted after reaching his high.
Minho took a hold of your cock which he jerked off, “Gonna cum...” you mumbled to which Jisung had already returned from his small trip to the bathroom, “Cum.” Jisung said as he wanted to watch you release
Jisung smiled at both of you releasing, before he pulled you up so that Jisung could walk you over to the bathroom while Minho followed closely, laughing at the limp that was already noticeable. “Looks like Min fucked you good~” Jisung teased as you pouted and hit the man on the chest for his annoying teasing.
Minho snorted, “You did too, he may be silent as a bug tomorrow because of a sore throat~” Minho teased, laughing when you glared at him.
“I hate you both.” you said in an unusual raspy voice, to which both of your lovers just giggled at.
You three arrived at the huge bathtub that Jisung had already prepared, he helped you get settled on the warm water of it and soon after, both also entered the warm bath.
.
.
Minho pulled you up on his wet chest while Jisung laid his head on your shoulder, “Were you fine with that earlier, baby? Or should we tone it down a bit?” he asked, playing with your collarbone.
You smiled suddenly at the question, “It was okay, I had fun.” you answered him as you leaned further into Minho’s warmth.
Jisung suddenly snorted at the side which caught both your attention, “The little dom act that you put was kinda cute.” he said, giggling.
You look at him and huffed while Minho laughed with him as you splashed some water at Jisung’s face causing him to retaliate.
In the end, the bathroom floor was a mess.
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gotnofucks · 3 years
Text
A Man’s World
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Pairing: soft!dark!Andy Barber x Reader
Summary: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him.
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: Dub-con (at the beginning), smut, language, implied age gap, poor knowledge of law and legal system, 18+ ONLY
A/N: This is my late entry to Berry’s Sugary 4k Challenge (everyone go and send some love to @donutloverxo​ for being so awesome. I am also dedicating this fic to Lexi ( @bluemusickid​ ) who’s had a difficult few weeks recently. I hope you feel better my love.
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Sweat was building under your top hat, the urge to itch making you frustrated with the delay. The officer before you was young, probably your age and fumbled with the papers you had handed to him. You tried to relax, almost as nervous as the man in front of you and tried to console yourself with the fact that he was far too jittery to look at you long.
No one will find out, you’re safe.
“Sir?”                                                                                  
You chewed your chip, feet tapping irregularly on the ground in agitation.
“Sir?” The officer said again, peering at you worriedly. You quickly pulled down the rim of your hat, still not used to being called ‘sir’.
“Uh, yeah. Yes.” You said, clearing your throat and trying for a deeper voice. The officer handed you your papers back, all signed and stamped. “Thank you.”
He nodded slightly and motioned for you to wait while your client was brought out. This was the first time you’d been out in the open alone, the fear of discovery clashing with the freedom that ran in your veins.
“Did you bail me out?” A rough voice asked. You looked up at Mr. Lane, a huge mountain of a man who towered over you. You nodded and offered him your hand to shake, wincing as his rough palms scratched against your soft ones. He looked doubtfully at you and you could understand why. You barely looked like a person who belonged in the police station, no matter as a man or woman.
“I am Mr. Barber’s assistant. He was busy with a hearing and sent me to bail you out. If you’d follow me to his office, he’d like a word before we proceed to your trial next week.” You explained, a little more confident. You knew the work, you knew the ways. You only needed to sell your lies to make your truth valid.
Mr. Lane nodded, following and entering the coach outside the station after you. He sat across from you, eyes narrowing as he ran over your soft features, the clip clop of the horses the only sound within.
“You old enough to be an assistant, boy?” Mr. Lane asked, and you scowled. Oh, how you’d like to tell him you were old enough and good enough to be not just an assistant but also a lawyer. You could be the one representing him in court and making him a free man. You should be that one. But, alas, this world doesn’t see women doing much rather than peeling potatoes and popping out a child every second year.
“I am.” You replied in a gruff tone that made it clear you weren’t about to entertain more questions. Your companion nodded, looking out the window and into the streets where peddlers screamed about discounted watches and handkerchiefs and buttons. Not many people had cushioned coaches like this, but Mr. Barber insisted one for your travels.
The journey to the office was quick and silent and you gestured Mr. Lane to follow you up to the top floor where your boss sat in his office. Some people nodded at you, now getting used to seeing you here though they didn’t stop to talk. You had never spoken much to anyone here outside of the receptionist who was deaf in one ear and considered every man under the age of 40 was a boy.  
“Wait here, I’ll let you in in a moment.” You said and had Mr. Lane take a seat on the benches outside. Then, you knocked softly and entered, shutting the door after you. Andy was sat behind his desk, frowning at some paper, and beckoned you closer without looking up from them. You walked over to him, licking you lips softly.
“Sit.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you into his lap. You positioned yourself on his thigh, squirming a little. He scribbled something in the corner of his paper before pushing it away with a sigh, turning his face to you. His eyes, bluer than the ocean at the docks, glittered at you and a small smile curled on his lips. With a practiced move, he removed your top hat and released the band that held your long locks tied together at the top.
Running his fingers through your hair, he leaned closer to press a kiss on your lips. You instinctively kissed back, holding onto his shoulder and moulding your lips to fit his.
“How did it go?” He asked, caressing your cheek softly. You fingered his collar, not looking in his eyes.
“I was worried someone will see through me.” You softly murmured. “There were so many men out there.”
Andy chuckled, pressing another kiss on your lips as his hand sneaked around your waist to bring you closer.
“There are always going to be men around. But you must remember you’re better than them. Better than any other son of a dick out there pretending he is the boss.”
You looked at him at that, taking in his beautiful face that had you smiling and crying in equal parts. You could tell exactly how that well-groomed beard felt between your legs, how those lips could make you utter the filthiest of sounds and curses and how those large hands touched you in the dark of the night.
“Better than even you?” You tentatively asked and Andy smiled, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth.
“You’ve always been better than me.” He said. You blinked and looked away, his gaze far too intimate to hold. Try as you might, you could not figure this man out. Months you’d spent with him, living, and working and being his any way he asked, and yet he was as much a mystery as he’d been the first time you met.
“Uh, Mr. Lane is waiting outside. Should I call him in?” You asked and he nodded, squeezing your side before releasing you. You put your hair up again and wore your hat, hiding your face under its shadows and calling the client in.
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When a girl turns a certain age, she is expected to find the most eligible bachelor and flutter her eyelashes in a bid to secure a match. Your mother threw grand balls for your sisters and was planning an even grander one for your introduction to the society. But you had had enough of dancing with lecherous bastards with as wandering hands as their eyes. You couldn’t stomach the thought of being bound to one of them, so you took your chance and ran.
Leaving behind your quaint town, you entered the bustling city with an assortment of clothes and a heart full of hope. It took you a week to understand that this was no place for you, no place for a lady who dreamt of being her own person. No one wished to employ you, a young girl who had no business demanding pay and rights.
However, in this bustling city of strangers, you found a man who wished to own you. Andy Barber told you in no uncertain terms that he would not hire you as long as you dressed like a woman, but he also promised that he could train you to be better than any other man. Provided, you give yourself to him. You weren’t naïve enough to pretend to not know what he was asking for, but you were desperate enough to say yes. This was better than a marriage anyway. There too, a man would have parched his thirst over your naked chest, but at least here you could learn and get paid for it without being bound to him.
Andy was not unkind. As a mentor, he was strict and meticulous. He worked you hard, taught you well, gave bitter feedback but praised you just the same. As a lover, he was exacting, exploring your chaste body with touches rough and soft, demanding response and reverence. The first night you laid with him, he spent hours worshiping you. His lips, lined by his bushy mustache, traced your face and neck, roving over each contour of your body until his mouth had tasted all.
The modesty you had guarded forever was bare to his gaze, but he didn’t lust like a man who cornered women in dark alleys. He had knelt before your open legs like men of cloth did at the lord’s altar, kissing the dewy folds of your sex with so much passion and delicacy that you had indeed felt like a goddess. Never had you imagined a man to put his mouth there, not when your mother had told you it was unclean. Andy, on the other hand, tasted it like he tasted absolution in your nectar.
He taught you more than simply law. The pleasures of flesh, of learning to please yourself and your companion were lessons that took place in the dark of night. He whispered things that Satan preached in your ear, seducing you into sin that you soon came to crave.
“Touch yourself”, a command he gave often. Nothing pleased him more than seeing you bring yourself to completion with your eyes trained on him, thoughts full only of him and how his body rocked yours.
You had done a great many things with him, things that had you flustered for days on end whenever your thoughts would turn to him, but what you were doing now was nothing short of scandal. It was blasphemous, something that would ruin you way more than if people found you falsely parading as a man in the city.
“Andy!” You hissed, pushing against him to no avail. He had dragged you into the men’s room inside the courthouse, cornering you against the wall and pressing his body flush to yours. He was wearing his best clothes today, about to represent an important man in a case that had made the front page for two weeks straight. Time together had been more work than pleasure, and it seemed Andy had reached his breaking point right before the trial started.
He started working on the buttons of your waistcoat, a frenzy in his eyes. “I need to take you now. This might as well be the most important case of my career, and I’ll begin it by being inside you, and end it just the same!”
You moaned, letting your hands roam his body as he finally undid your waistcoat and shirt, frantically ripping away at the bandages that bound your breasts. As he took one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, you palmed his pulsing hardness from over his pants, shivering at the thought of feeling it inside you again.
He scared you like this, for someone could walk in and see the illustrated Andrew Barber making a beast with two backs in the male room with someone who greatly resembled a man. He will be ruined. You would be ruined. And as of now, the very thought of that caused wetness to pool in your underpants.
“Get on your knees and taste me.” He urged, pulling out his cock and pumping it. “As you sit beside me today, I want you to have my taste in your mouth. One day, I’ll sit beside you too.”
You were a gently bred lady of impeccable reputation, but you sunk to your knees with the practiced move of a street woman to take him eagerly in your mouth. Oh, if your proper mother could see you, sucking a man like a whore in the damp men’s room, her teachings of propriety and modesty all but forgotten. But nothing made you feel more than a woman that receiving Andy like this. His desire, his need for you burned in his eyes and you lapped on those flames to quench the thirst in your heart.
His hand moved behind your head, easing you into taking him deeper. “Look at me” He whispered, and your eyes met his, shining with unshed tears. He did this to you, reduced you to who you loathed to be and yet loved. Swirling your tongue over his soft skin, you bobbed over his length, the squelching sounds filling the small room.
Just like always, you tasted his power and his yearning. The milky drops of precum coated your tongue, your nose taking in the smell of his musk as he groaned above you. He reduced you, but then why did you feel raised?
“Touch yourself, let me taste you too.” He ordered, and you complied. Your hand slipped inside your pants, finding your moist core. Generously lubing your fingers in your slick, you rose on shaky knees and presented your wet fingers to Andy who sucked them eagerly in his mouth. Warm, wet, his tongue took in your taste with relish.
You couldn’t stop but stare into his blue eyes, eyes that should have haunted your nightmares, but you only saw them in sweet dreams. “Kiss me” You begged, and he did. He kissed you like a man starved, like a man who could suck out your soul and draw it in himself. He kissed you like dew kissed the morning grass, like the colours of rainbow that scattered in the sky to paint it pretty.
“Tell me where you want me, how you want me.” He said, surrendering control. You stilled, hands resting on his chest. How were you to lead him when he was infinitely more experienced about the art of making love?
“I – I want you inside me.” You softly said, eyes fluttering as you shy looked away. Why was saying what you do so many times so difficult.
“Inside where?” Andy asked, tilting your chin up again. You gulped, your face and chest flushed.
“In my – in my” You stuttered, fearing to speak the word he spoke often. “In my pussy.”
You would have thought he would ravish you as soon as you said the words, instead he brought you closer and nudged your nose with his. His breath came out in erratic spurts, his need evident in his gaze. “You will put me inside you, however you want. It’s time I let you take some lead.”
Holding his gaze, you pumped his length gently before turning around and presenting him your ass. You struggled to position him, trying to place his tip at your opening. He didn’t move an inch to help you, only chuckling slightly when you huffed in frustration. Finally, you felt him at your slit, and you slid him between your folds carefully, trying to coat him in your wetness like you’d seen him do.
“What if someone walks in?” You asked, hesitating for just one moment.
“They’ll have to wait while we finish. You’re not walking out of here unsullied, so how about we hurry up?”
You pushed back into him, taking him inside your pulsing sleeve with ease. The stretch of his cock had always felt good, a pain that had a lasting effect and reminded you of him. As you moved back and forth, urging him to meet you halfway, you wondered why the self loathing never came. Andy had a way of making you feel like a queen when others may suspect you of nothing more than a whore.
“Andy” You brokenly said as he thrust inside you faster, “I want more. Please.”
He gave you more. He took over, holding onto your waist and sliding home inside you in deep, powerful strokes. You whined under his assault, jerking when his fingers found your nub and mashed it. Praises, curses, words of love and lust that had the power to destroy hearts and armies flowed freely from his mouth, as if the only thing tethering him to this earth was your body.
Your hands went to play with your breasts, a strangled moan caught in your chest. Suddenly, even when he moved inside you with such passion, you craved more intimacy than his cock could offer. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your mouth that he took in a sensual kiss. You were so close that you couldn’t decide what limb was yours and which was his anymore. In the age old dance of sensual love, you became one.
“What do you want?” He asked, and your eyes met his. He asked you this every time, and you had always answered the same thing. But today, this felt different. You were in the courthouse, a lawyer’s battleground and also the place of worship. He was more than your mentor and boss, he was also the man who you had grown to care for so deeply it could only be called one feeling.
“Inside me. I want you to finish inside me today.” You answered and his hands clutched you tighter. You’d never allowed that before, never allowed him to call you his so completely. But you felt compelled by his heat today, by the desperation he never bothered hiding from you. Once, this may have felt like a chore. Today, it was your blessing. “Andy, make me yours.”
He groaned, pumping in you with abandon and bringing you over the edge with his fingers that were running circles around your clit. You moaned loud, blubbering in pleasure that spilled from you, uncaring if someone were to walk in. His thrusts were getting irregular, hips jerking until you felt him twitch and release inside you in hot spurts. Warmth bloomed in your core, your essence mixing with his.
He hugged your sweaty body to his, the wool of his coat scratchy against your flesh. “You were mine, even before. Now, more so than ever. And one day, when you’re ready, I’ll claim you in front of the world as fully as my heart has done in private.”
You felt him run his thumb over your ring finger and licked your lips. He wasn’t asking, and you weren’t answering. But one day, maybe you will. Until then, you were happy to be his beautiful secret, posing as his assistant and learning from him.
“Don’t,” He whispered hotly in your ear, turning you around swiftly. “Don’t think too much. We’ve got a case to win.”
He helped you dress again, buttoning your shirt and waistcoat with nimble fingers. He was getting back to being your boss, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him at this moment. One day it will be you in his spot, you knew it.
“Just one question.” You said, fixing his tie and smoothening the wrinkles on his clothes. He raised an eyebrow at you, softly smiling at the mischievous look in his eyes. “What will happen once I am a lawyer too?”
Andy chuckled, pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. “Whoever wins more cases gets to be on top of course.”
You exited the men’s room with him, head high as any other man’s. As you entered the courtroom, you licked your lips and smiled as you tasted him on your tongue.
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inkyblinders · 3 years
Text
Dancing with the Devil: Part II
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Part 1
Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader
Author’s note: This was so embarrassing to write not because of smut...but because I’m crushing hard on Adrien Brody right now. And I can’t even share this obsession with anyone because… he’s kinda niche? Someone please reassure me that I’m just going through a phase because dear God why can’t I stop watching Darjeeling Limited just to see him ahhh.
The story picks up right after the end of Part 1, so I recommend reading that first. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think!
Summary: Following your meeting with Luca Changretta, you face the Shelby family and Tommy's reaction. (2.6k words)
Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing
Tag: Let me know if you would like to be added or removed
@anythingwriter, @rrtxcmt, @shut-chan
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You barely make it into your bedroom before he is all over you. The buttons of his crisp, tailored shirt fall like marbles. He moans when you nip the skin of his neck, right over his tattoo of the black cross, legs tangled together like a depraved waltz.
When he grinds into you, you shudder deliciously at the hardness that meets between your bare thighs.
How easy would it be for him to kill you after he fucks you, leaving your corpse twisted in the bedsheets. You know Tommy would find it when he eventually remembers that he has not seen you for days.
“Signorita, you know I come to you with the most honorable of intentions.” He murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts.
“You're not a very honorable man then.” A laugh that turns into a gasp as he trails his hand lower and strokes between your legs. No, not very honorable at all. And pretty soon all thoughts of honor are forgotten as he coaxes a moan from your throat.
His fingers are magic. The cold outline of his onyx rings scald your skin each time he crooks a finger inside you. Knowing exactly what you need, seeking your depths, swirling, rising to rub the clit, all the while exploring the flushed expanse of your body with his other hand.
Shoulder to breasts to hips and back again.
Without meaning to, you’ve let this stranger take control of your entire being. But God, do you crave this pure ecstasy.
It’s as if he wants to know precisely how much you can take before you're undone. So when you clench around his hand and feel the familiar ache he is right there, helping you ride the wave of pleasure, never breaking the rhythm of his thrusting fingers even as you curse, rake your nails down his back.
You almost cry out his name when you come. But you bite into his shoulder instead.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to hear you next time.” He growls.
His words barely register as you come down from the high. Aftershocks spark like tiny flames. Now you are wearing his scent as much as he is wearing yours.
“Be inside me,” You whimper, tugging at his soft hair, urging him for more.
He rasps an empty warning, “What's my name, sweetheart?”
Of course. All this time you've never acknowledged you know of his identity. There was no use in trying to hide it now.
“Luca,” you breathe. And his eyes gleam with approval.
With a snap of his hips, he plunges into silky warmth. The fullness stretches you to your limit, head thrown back. It’s good, so good. Every withdrawal of his thrust is a blessing because you know what follows next. It’s him inside you again, wrapping you with his touch and the scent of tobacco and roses.
“Does your Tommy fuck you like this? Like the way I do?”
“He’s not mine.” You choke out, punishing Luca with a bite on the neck that elicits a chuckle rather than a yelp of pain.
He kisses you, your foreheads pressed together. “A damn shame for him.” Soon he starts to quicken his pace, going faster, more erratic, his breathing heavy upon your ears.
Yes, you urge him, come on, now.
And this is your chance. In a flash you roll on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with your hands. He tries to arch up but you stop him with a knee.
“How many men did you bring, Changretta?” You ask, making your voice rough to mask the lust, pressing your hands around his jugular.
It's a pleasure to see him like this. Shocked at your actions, maybe even scared. Naked with want but unable to do anything to relieve it. Unless he tells the truth.
“Fifteen. Why baby, am I not enough for you?” He laughs breathlessly, hands trailing goosebumps along your hips, tracing the contour of your breasts. The jib doesn't hurt you. After all, men have said worse. He tries to surge into you again, and his hot member pulses on your thighs.
“Do you swear on your honor? That you’re telling the truth?” You insist, squeezing him harder. The touch brands his skin as much as it brands yours.
In a voice full of self-mockery he says, “Yes I swear on my honor. Now let me in, clever Isabel.”
You take him in you, the sensations amplify a thousandfold. You try teasing him, going slowly in and out, but soon you are caught up in the sensation of him completely at your mercy and you ride him, faster, until you keen his name, until he too is undone.
****
Through the haze of dawn, he stumbles out of bed and gets dressed. Before he dons his hat once more, Luca leans down to whisper in your ear, as soft as sin.
“You tell Tommy Shelby he may expect a visitor in the night. I'm coming for him as the angel of death. The vendetta has begun…” He kisses your hair.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
The door clicks shut. You rise from your pillow, and a small, hard lump rolls next to your hand.
It is a signet ring of onyx and gold.
****
“So we all get a death letter from the mafia, but Izzy gets jewelry?” Ada huffs as the family filters into the betting shop. As usual, Tommy holds court at the front of the table, brooding over a glass of whiskey. You roll your eyes as Arthur and John try to cover their snort of laughter with a cough.
“If you want it, you can have it, Ada. He’s probably planning on killing me too.”
“Doubt it. You’re not a Shelby, and we’re the ones who killed his father. Well, someone did, to be precise.” She shoots a bitter look at Tommy, who doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.
Despite Ada’s matter-of-fact tone, the words cut to your heart. Not a Shelby.
It’s not her fault. No one knows you’ve been sleeping with Tommy, not even your dearest friend. It’s a lonely secret to keep, but at least you can look at the family square in the eye and not have to worry about the things they say behind your back. Or worse, pity you.
You can handle the violence and moral ambiguity of Tommy’s business. But to lose the love and respect of the Shelbys would break your heart.
“What was the mafia man like, Izzy?” Finn asks eagerly. It’s obvious the boy is thinking of the dashing, gun-wielding gangsters he’s seen in the pictures.
“He was a wrinkly old brute. Kind of like your arsehole brother Tommy.” A smile to take the edge off the insult. But Tommy only looks off into space. As if he hasn't paid attention to this entire conversation.
Arthur clears his throat. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. It was me who pulled the trigger on his dad, so the blame falls on me.” He pats Linda’s hand even as his voice is heavy with guilt.
“No one’s blaming you Arthur, you weren’t the brains behind the operation, no offense.” Ada says. He is about to say something when Polly cuts in.
“Stop squabbling like children. We’ve all voted for truce, despite everything Tommy’s done to us—” The words nearly having us hanged hover pointedly in the air. “—So let’s focus on the matter at hand." She fixes Tommy with a sharp look.
“What’s the news from Camden Town? Will Solomons help us?”
“No.” He says tiredly. And all of a sudden you feel sorry for teasing him. He look gaunt. There are shadows under his eyes, even more so than usual. Without you to remind him to eat, you can imagine his diet for the past few days consisted more of alcohol and cigarettes than anything substantial.
“Spent three hours on a fucking tour of his bakery and another pretending to drink his piss-poor rum. I think he was trying to get me sloshed so I’d forget what I came for.” Tommy rubs his head.
“He’s refusing to send his men to help. Said he’s not going to go after another oppressed people.”
“Did you tell him the Italians are rounding up Jews in their country as we speak?” Polly asks incredulously.
“Wouldn’t make a difference to Alfie. Besides, that’s just an excuse. He’s really just a fucking coward.”
Polly looks troubled at this, as does the rest of the family. Everyone had been counting on Alfie’s friendship with Tommy, however peculiar, to help them with the vendetta. What they hadn’t expected was his extreme sense of self-perseverance. How are they going to protect themselves now?
“Before everyone panics, I’d like to say something.” Tommy clears his throat, setting down the whisky.
“As you may all know, two nights ago our Izzy encountered Mr. Changretta in the Garrison. He bought her a drink and asked her to deliver an official beginning of the vendetta.” He chooses this time to finally look at you. You hold his gaze until he looks shiftily away.
“We can also assume that he has been scoping out Small Heath, looking for any weaknesses on our turf. Now, Izzy has something to share with you all.”
You stand up uncertainly. The last time a woman other than Polly tried to speak her mind at the table it had been Esme, who still refuses to come to the betting shop unless Tommy is not here.
“While Mr. Changretta was, er, indisposed at the Garrison, I found some items in his coat that I think could be useful.” You fish out a passport and a stack of papers from your skirt pockets.
“Good job, Izzy! Oh, I knew we could count on you more than my idiot brother.” Ada beams.
“Becoming a right little spy, eh?” John ruffles your hair good-naturedly. As everyone gathers around, Polly gives a low whistle.
“Goodness, if this is your definition of an ugly brute, I wonder who’ll really catch your fancy, darling.”
You flush. The documents were obtained shortly after Luca had fallen asleep. It was an exercise in agility, trying to extricate yourself from his tangle of limbs, especially when you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, encased in his warmth.
To your own credit, the papers were highly useful indeed. Some were maps of Birmingham, circles drawn in places where the Shelbys are known to frequent. The Garrison. Charlie’s Yard. The Arrow House. There was also stationary from The Stanton, a hotel just outside of the city.
There had been another piece of paper in the stack, a letter. But you kept that for yourself.
“We all have Izzy to thank for bringing us this valuable information.” Tommy’s voice rises above the chatter. “I will be personally examining all the documents and think of a plan. In the meantime, everyone stay alert, stay armed, and stay together.”
“Now if no one has any further questions, I need to have a private word with her. Alone.”
*****
You twirl the onyx ring around your finger as everyone filters out. It’s much too big but you still wear it anyways. The thick band of gold is comforting in its own way. And despite what you told Ada earlier, you don’t want to give it to anyone else.
Tommy’s curt voice snaps you from your reverie.
“Was it good, then?”
A small muscle tics on the underside of his jaw. His previously blank expression is now cold. The coward in you compels you to feign ignorance.
“What do you mean, Tommy?” You ask lightly.
“Did it feel good to have that fucking wop inside you?”
You burst out laughing. “Christ, Tommy. Did you pick up that word from Alfie? You sound bloody ridiculous when you’re trying to be crass, you know.”
“Don’t fucking change the subject, Isabel.” Tommy snaps.
“Oh, so I’m Isabel, now? You only call me that when you’re trying to get me in bed. Is that what you want? A bit early in the evening if you ask me.”
“What I want for you is to tell me how it felt having that man inside you, inside---”
You blaze with anger. “My sex life is none of your business, even if you are an occasional participant. I did what you would have wanted, and now I’ve got intel on the Changrettas that could save your arse!”
“Do you know how dangerous it could have been? Fraternizing with the enemy is exactly what got us into trouble with the Changrettas!”
“And fraternizing with them again has given us an advantage. We know how many associates he’s brought with him, and where they are staying. Good God,” Your eyes widen as you see the mutinous look on Tommy’s face. “Are you jealous?”
The silence of the room presses in until it's almost palpable. Finally he rubs a hand over his eyes, looking utterly defeated.
“I have no right to.” He says, pained. “But I am, just the same.”
The admission of his feelings would have made your heart soar a few days ago, before you met a man who enchanted you in the Garrison. You only laugh bitterly.
“What makes this different from all those other times you made me seduce the men you wanted to spy on?”
He says nothing. But what else is there to say? The past is in the past, and so many hurts have been caused by the both of you, it would be impossible to untangle it all.
You soften your voice, laying a hand on Tommy's arm.
“Let me continue seeing him. He wants me, and we can use that. You know it will be help, you know it might save us all.”
A breath flutters in your chest as you wait for his decision. If Tommy allows it, you’ll do it in a heartbeat. The Shelbys are your family, whether you're one in name or not.
But if he refuses, then perhaps… Perhaps he might actually care for you, deeper than jealousy, deeper than he admits.
“Very well.” Tommy says finally, and something in your heart shatters. The corners of your mouth curve up in a wobbly smile.
“Thank you for trusting me, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”
“You would never let me down, no matter what you do. Just…Be careful, Izzy.”
He closes the distance between you and enfolds you in a hug. You enjoy this quiet warmth, as fragile as spider's silk. With a small laugh, you pull away, patting his arm before turning to the door.
You don't look back to see if he follows.
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