#the way I’m dragging my soul through this week

[ohtobeleah]

***

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Saw you took D&W- Gambit requests. 💜

Would you consider a mostly fluffy one where Reader was in the Void, caught feelings for Remy, & somehow got separated from him in the transfer to Wade's timeline, so they reunite after each thinking the other didn't make it? Like maybe Reader never outright said how they felt till after they thought they'd lost Gambit? Something like that.

🏆 Thank you! 🏆

separated

A/n: love this more than you know anon

Warnings: did a lotttt of canon switching for this one. So… yeah. Fem!reader, mentions of wounds and blood

REMY MASTERLIST | KOFI

“Oh, look at them. They’re so adorable together.” Wade pointed to the both of you with a smile on his face, Logan furrowing his eyebrows.

“They just met.”

“Have you ever seen any disney movie ever? Love at first sight? I’m just glad my girl is finally getting some. About time. After that one breakup…” he rambled on.

Logan didn’t reply, just rolled his eyes and tuned him out, eyes glancing back up at the both of you.

The crackling of the fire filled the air as you sat next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from the flames and his leg touching yours. In that moment, the worries you had about Cassandra Nova and the desolate wasteland around you faded away.

He sent you a small smile, eyes lingering on your lips for a little too long when you laughed. It’s only been a few days, and he swears he’s known you his entire life.

He’s never felt this way before, the feeling foreign to him. It makes his heart pound and his soul yearn.

And everyone can notice it except for you, how hopelessly in love he is with you, and you him.

During the battle, he’s sending you a smirk, both of you working together to kill them all.

You stand by his side until you’re suddenly pulled by Wade into the portal, Remy holding a hand out, as if to try and stop him from pulling you in.

Wade assured you that he was probably okay, but let it slip that maybe, just maybe he was dead. He immediately covered his mouth.

You stared at Wade, the thought not crossing your mind in your shattered state.

The belief that he was dead, the simple idea of it, had you sulking in your bed, grieving for weeks. Wade had come into the room throughout the time, giving you food, telling you stories, speaking about whatever he could to hopefully crack a smile.

“Nice talk.” He murmured out, patting your arm while he stood up, sighing and shaking his head to himself.

“No luck?” Logan asked him when he walked out, switching through the channels on the tv.

“No luck. Still depressed as ever.”

Logan thought for a moment, pausing on one of the news channels.

“Why don’t you just do the portal… finger thing. Go back to the void.” He shrugged, “see if he’s alive or something.”

“Portal finger thing… haven’t heard that one before.” He said suggestively, Logan rolling his eyes at the man.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured, standing up from the couch and into the kitchen.

But the more Wade thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

That’s how he ended up dragging the bloodied, heavy, and tired cajun into his apartment.

“Okay, there we go.” Wade grunted out, carrying him to the table.

You strolled out, not paying attention when you walked out your room. Wade smiled, standing next to the man. You didn’t see either of them, still staring down at your phone as you walked past them and into the kitchen.

You didn’t know he was there until he let out a pained little murmur of “cher?”

You spun around at the sound of his voice, your phone dropping and your eyes widening in surprise. Wade still stood next to him, proud smile on his face.

“Sooo… happy birthday.”

You were speechless, only stuttering out a very quiet “Remy?”

“And me.” Wade chimed in.

Logan also came walking out, his eyebrow quirking at the sight of him bleeding onto the table.

“He’s- he’s bleeding!” You told Wade.

“Yeah, had to carry him in. He’s extremely heavy too. I’m convinced he is all muscle.” He spoke, you rushing to his side.

“Ah, it’s jus’ a scratch, don’t worry ‘bout me, cher.” He told you with a wave of his hand, small smirk on his face.

You shook your head at him, going into the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit stashed in there.

“Why are you hiding first aid kits in my house?” Wade asked you with a quirked eyebrow.

“In case I needed them.” You shrugged it off, pulling out some of the things that you needed. You grabbed a rag, Wade groaning at how much of his kitchen supplies would be ruined after this.

You ignored him, focusing on the man who laid out in front of you. His injuries weren’t bad enough to be fatal, thankfully, but they still could probably very easily get infected.

He stared up at you while you cleaned off his wounds. You glanced down at him, offering him a small smile.

“Can you take off your… suit.. thingie?”

He raised his eyebrows at your words. “Ah, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you coulda said t’at.” He said with a laugh, sitting up to pull off his jacket and his body armor.

You rolled your eyes at the man, lightly shoving him back down when it was done.

“You know, you worried the shit out of me, Remy.” You told him quietly, beginning to clean the wounds that were littered across his body.

“I’m sorry, cher. I didn’t mean to do dat to ya.” He spoke sincerely. “But, if ‘t makes you feel better, I worried ‘bout you more.”

You sighed, damn him and his charm, you thought to yourself.

After you had finished cleaning his wounds, he sat up on the table, looking at you walk around the kitchen for a moment before turning to him, offering him a cup of water, which he gladly took.

“Reunions are always my favorites.” Wade spoke dreamily, his elbows propped up on the table next to Remy, staring at the both of you with a smile.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the man.

“Except for family reunions.” He shuddered at the mere thought. “Disgusting. But… this is too cute. And I think we should all-“ he trailed off, still rambling on as he went into the kitchen, opening up the freezer.

“You wanna go up to the roof?” You whispered to him, to which he quickly nodded at in reply, hopping off the table and grabbing a random sweater strewn around while you both left.

“God, I’m just so excited that- and they’re gone. What the hell? Where’d they go?” Wade asked himself, a tub of ice cream in his hands. He sighed before his eyes landed on Logan, who had walked out at the worst moment possible.

“Peanut! You’re here!”

“What?” He grumbled out.

“Since y/n and her hot boy toy left, we are gonna have a movie night.” Wade practically dragged him out, ignoring his protests.

You giggled as you practically dragged him up the stairs, pushing past the doors and leading him to the edge of one of the buildings.

You both sat next to each other, legs dangling off the edge. He looked at you, soft smile stuck on his face.

“What?” You asked him, noticing his staring. He shook his head, looking ahead again. Both of you stayed looking at the stars for a moment, the sound of passing cars and chirping crickets filling the air.

“I… I thought that you were dead.” You told him finally, still staring ahead.

“I’m here now, ain’t I?” He turned to you now, his head slightly tilted.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, “obviously. But…” you trailed off.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder with his own, making you look at him. “T’ey gonna need a lot more than dat to take me out.”

You chuckled again, him cracking a smile at the sound of your laughter.

You both stared at each other, gazing into each others eyes for what felt like an eternity. He was the one to make the first move, his hand gliding off of the cold cement underneath him, and moving towards your face, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched when he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

You were the one to smash your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Your lips moved against each other, finally getting the one thing you’ve been longing for.

You pulled away after a few moments, both of you softly panting, his hand still on your face, your lips still close to each other. “Is now a good time to tell you that I like you?” You asked him, him chuckling, pulling his hand away from your jaw.

“Remy likes you too, cher.” He told you. You sighed in relief, him turning to look back out at the stars. He pulled you closer to his side, and you put your head on his shoulder.

A/n: fuck yeah dude, this is what I call a comeback after not having written in forever

[sleepershell]

Study Sesh

pairing coriolanus snow x capitol!fem!reader

content coryo is his own warning, ambitious reader, relatively nice coryo, 18+ nsfw minors DNI pls, oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), slight use of force, gentle dom

synopsis you offer your best friend Coryo something he can’t refuse when he’s over at your house

wc 2222

Coriolanus Snow never paid attention the way I wanted him to. Even with the house all to ourselves, my parents away attending to business, he was studying. It’d been weeks since I’d gotten him to come over to hang out and even then he chose to come over and study. I let out a long sigh.

“Coryo, can we please do something else?”

His eyes didn’t even lift from the book his nose was buried in. “Soon. We have a paper due on this in a week.”

“Don’t remind me.” I huffed. “I'm not even as far as you are.”

Still focused on the page, he slid my own copy across the table, closer to me. “Then you should be reading.”

I took the book begrudgingly and opened to where I’d left off. I couldn’t focus on any of the words with him sitting right there, so I hopped up from my seat and began to pace about the room, book held out in front of me. It was a sunny winter day, and our big drawing room windows let in huge swaths of sunlight. They felt pleasantly warm on my arms through my silken shirt sleeves.

Sudden movement made me jump as Coryo set down his book. “Would you please stop that pacing, I can’t concentrate at all!” He was such a grump most of the time. It made him all the more fun to tease.

“Oh, but I can’t concentrate without pacing.”

“Well, do it elsewhere, then.”

“That would defeat the purpose of having you over, wouldn’t it?”

He looked at me, his mouth pursed, before beginning to stand. “You’re right.”

“No, no, no, no.” I rushed over to him, gently grasping his arm. “I just won’t study.”

He sat back down in the sitting chair I’d dragged over to the table for him. He would never be so careless with my parents’ furniture, so I made sure to always do what I could to accommodate him. I was the only one in school who knew how he lived. It was by accident, truly. We’d been very young when I’d followed him home from school. His family had insisted on me coming in once I knocked despite Coriolanus being horribly upset at my being there. But I’d never told a soul. I think in a way it was a relief for him to have one person who knew, one person he could talk to. Not that he often would. He preferred to hold that part of him very close. I was his best friend and, still, I felt I couldn't get him to see me. Occasionally he’d take comfort in me but his focus was always elsewhere.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, I left him alone to go sit in the wide outcropping sill of one of the windows. It was even warmer there, and I felt like a cat all perched up with my knees to my chest. He was so solemn as he read, his eyebrows scrunched in focus. A beautiful blonde curl fell in front of his face. He remained still but for his breathing, as if he hadn’t noticed. As he turned the page, I watched his strong fingers. He was able to hold the book open with one hand, the other pressed to his lips. I listened as the grandfather clock ticked on. Wondered for the better part of an hour whether he’d ever look up, whether he’d ever see me.

“Coryo?”

He turned his intense eyes up to me.

I stood and unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to my sides and reveal the white lace brassiere beneath.

He blinked but didn’t spare a gaze at my chest. “I’m busy right now.”

I crossed the room to him, slipping off my loafers on the way and leaving my blouse behind. He was practically hunched over the book. I placed my hands on the back of his perfectly tailored red jacket. He was so good at appearing perfect, wasn’t he? Sometimes I hated him for it. In truth, my own parents liked him better than me. But as I felt the hardness of his shoulders and the heat through the fabric, I realized exactly how I could get his attention.

I leaned forward, curling my arms around the front of him. My face nestled into his neck, I took a deep breath of his scent—the faintest whiff of human sweat behind clean linen and flowering roses. He hummed as I whispered into his ear.

“I think it’s time for a break.”

He tensed. “(Y/n), you know I can't. I need to keep my place at the top.”

I grumbled and let him go, pacing back to where I’d left the shirt. I unhooked my skirt there, dropping it in a heap at my ankles. When I turned to look at him, he’d taken out a damned pencil and was underlining something in the book. I stomped toward him and placed my palms firmly on the cool wood of the table.

“Coriolanus, you’ll need more than good grades on your side and you know it.” Finally, I had his attention. He was frowning at me, as usual, but it was a start. “I can get you the rest, but I won’t be so inclined if you can’t even spare a moment to indulge me.”

The book slapped shut as he removed his thumb. “What are you doing?” He looked at me like an adversary. I felt a fire in my core knowing that I could get him riled up. It meant he knew I wasn't like most of those other idiots at the Academy. I didn’t study because I didn't care much about my grades despite having the aptitude. I was assured a comfortable life regardless. I doubted he saw anyone as an equal, so I’d have to settle for being a worthy opponent.

I crouched down, crawling toward him under the table like a stalking cat. As I kneeled before him he looked down at me with a peculiar expression.

“Mr. Snow, I think you’ll find it quite hard to claw your way to the top without some extra cash in your pockets.” The crotch of his pants was beginning to look a bit too tight. I bent forward to place a kiss on it and heard him hiss in response.

“You’re obscene, you know that?”

“What’s obscene, Mr. Snow, is the wealth my parents are drowning in.” I leaned my head on his thigh, peering up at him as innocently as I could manage. “Wealth I can influence in the direction I’d like it to go. And they do so love you. It wouldn’t even be a hard sell.”

I could see the ghost of a smile on his face and knew I’d said the right thing. “Call me President.”

“Yes, President Snow.” I said it prettily, and his smile broadened at the sound.

“You’ve decided to bribe me like I’m a whore.” He said, all the while undoing his trousers. I was getting exactly what I wanted, but the deal was even sweeter for him, I knew.

His hardness sprang from his briefs with power. I ran a fingertip along its length. It was already leaking at the tip, and I brushed over it causing him to shudder. Without breaking eye contact, I licked it off my finger.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered. His hips tipped forward the slightest bit, clearly yearning for me to take him in my mouth. And I did. With one hand gripped around the warm base, I slid my lips over him. He was larger than I’d realized before, so I began slowly, only taking half of it. He groaned, and I had to press my own legs together in response to the twinge between them. I was able to touch my lips to my hand after a few bobs of my head, and as I descended onto him, he seemed to come to life.

I felt his hands both rest gently on the back of my head as I moved, making sure I knew not to back off too far. If I did, I would find the end to that gentleness. His breathing was quickened which made me respond by increasing my own speed. That must have been it for him, because I felt his hands turn to stone as he began bucking his hips, thrusting himself further into my mouth.

As he fucked, I could feel the end of him hitting me in the throat, almost too far but not quite. He was groaning little affirmations to me then, as he used me to get chase the feeling building up inside him. Saliva was beginning to fall from my mouth around his cock, and I could feel some of it running down my chin and throat, sliding onto my chest. He pushed himself to the end and held himself in my throat, giving me no warning before spilling heat inside me. I felt the twitch and his whole body go still as his cum pumped into me. It was so deep it took no effort to swallow. When he relaxed, my head lolled to rest on his thigh. I listened as his breathing evened out. I stood.

“Well,” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Would you like to get back to work now?”

He frowned up at me again, stood so fast I could hardly register it. His face leaned in so close to me, thumb brushed my chin and the other hand curled around my waist. I was suddenly very aware of how little fabric covered my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. He peered into my face with those wide, puppy dog eyes of his. I couldn’t summon any words.

“I’m not through with you.” He growled.

My butt had been pressed into the edge of the table behind me, and he pushed my back onto it as well. The drawing room chandelier was right above me, shining in the sun.

A finger traced over my thigh. He was standing there looking down on me, like an appraisal. I thought about cringing from his gaze but didn’t think I could even feign being that demure. This was exactly what I wanted. His finger moved across the silk of my panties. Our eyes locked, and a smile returned, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. I was certainly soaked.

“(Y/n), is this really all you want in exchange for a fortune?”

It wasn’t, but the rest seemed like a hard sell.

“No.”

He raised a brow in question.

“Finish me first, President Snow, then I’ll tell you.”

He shook his head, smile growing even wider. He disappeared from my view as my panties were tugged to the side. Hot breath grazed my exposed sex. An impatient whine slipped from my throat, and then his mouth was there, all there, placing a flurry of kisses all around before licking his tongue gently up my center.

“Fuck, Coryo please, just—“

His tongue circled my clit, finally giving me what I was dying for. My ass clenched, pushing myself into him harder. Hands wrapped around my thighs, roughly grabbing as he began flicking his tongue on my most sensitive part. I let myself go limp. He’d never gone down on me before, and it was like he’d been starving the entire time. He spat on my pussy and licked it into a dripping mess. I felt teeth gently nip at my clit, driving my pulse and breath to quicken.

He was moaning, saying words I couldn’t decipher because his mouth was preoccupied. My name was certainly one of them, though. The vibrations of his moaning mixed with the rhythmic press of his tongue was pushing me closer and closer. The pleasure only increased until I was teetering on the edge, trying to hold onto that feeling. His own noises were so loud I’d have expected he was the one getting serviced. And then his fingers slid into me and I couldn’t hold on. I was a spasming mess, whining as my pussy clenched around his fingers. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it everywhere else.

When I opened my eyes, Coryo was fastening his pants, wiping wetness from his chin.

“Well?” He inquired, without looking my way.

I pushed myself up, didn’t want us to be too different in height. In fact, I think sitting on the table leant me an inch or two. On the floor below me, I saw a dark spot on the carpet. He’d cum a second time while buried in my cunt.

“Coryo, what’s that thing you always say, about Snow? About your family?”

His blue eyes fell on me, bright and intense.

“Snow lands on top.”

I quirked my head to the side. “I want that, too. So I’m not asking for release. I’m asking you to make me a Snow.”

The corners of his lips turned up but his brows creased, wary. He returned to the place between my legs, this time holding my face, searching it.

“You want me to marry you?”

And l knew exactly who he was, so I capitalized on the moment. “I want to belong to you, President Snow.”

The ocean in his eyes caught fire.

Xx

[daycourtofficial]

Bad Idea

Summary: feeling a bit neglected by your mate, you decide to try to make him jealous by dancing with another male. Very little plot, mostly just smut ngl.

Warnings: Azriel is a mean dom, so uh literally.. spanking, cockwarming, degradation, light choking.

Author’s note: fuck it, I want jealous Az, and dammit I’ll have jealous Az. Also I’m headcannoning that Az wears boxer briefs idk why I feel like he’d like the sleekness of them.

-

You knew it was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. You couldn’t help yourself, though. Your mate had been gone all week on a mission, his return culminating in everyone at Rita’s - dancing, drinking, having a good time.

Your mate kept talking to his brothers, hardly passing you a second glance when a male approached you at the bar. You looked to see if he’d noticed, and growing tired of his lack of attention, you decided to indulge the man at the bar. Truth be told, the man wasn’t really interested in you. You two struck up a conversation about your shoes, leading you to discussing your own mates.

Wren, he told you, was here because he loved dancing, but his mate did not. You could understand the sentiment, the same opinions being held by you and your mate. So you asked Wren to dance and made your way to the dance floor.

You danced for what felt like hours with Wren, having an incredible time. Lost in the music, through the haze of alcohol, it was easy to push aside your feelings of neglect. Every so often you’d look towards your mate, only to find him looking elsewhere. You and Wren left the dancefloor for some water, him telling you he should be on his way home. You bid each other farewell, and you realize your mate is nowhere to be found.

You stumbled home, forgoing your heels a block from Rita’s. The house is dark, not a single light on inside. You roll your eyes walking up the steps to your door, assuming Azriel was still speaking with Rhys and Cassian somewhere.

You slipped through your house, tossing your shoes on the floor as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. You pushed open your bedroom door, closing it softly behind you. You pad through the room, reaching to unzip your top when a heavy weight presses into your back, pushing your front into the wall.

You start to scream, but a scarred hand wraps around your mouth. The force has your hands above your head with one hand, your mouth covered with the other.

“That’s no way to greet me, my love.”

Your mate’s voice eases the primal fear deep within you, but the tone of his voice causes a new fear to ripple through you.

“In fact,” he says, his whisper sending chills down your spine, “nothing you did tonight was an appropriate way to greet your mate after a week away.”

You muffle some sounds, trying to explain to him that he wasn’t even looking at you for most of the night, but he keeps his hand steady on your mouth, curling some fingers around your jaw to keep it locked in place.

His wings wrap around both of you, coccooning you from the world, as if his next words were meant only for the two of you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, “my mate, my wife, my soul.”

He releases your hands, but the loss of contact is quickly replaced by his shadows holding your hands together.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to remind you of that fact, until you’re so fucked out you’re just left a drooling, twitching mess.”

He releases you from the wall, your weight sagging from him holding you up, but before you can fall, he holds you around the hips, dragging you to the bed. His shadows were in a frenzy around you, and he pushes you down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

“I’m not the only one possessive of you,” he says, as shadows start swirling around your legs, your arms, your waist, your neck. You tried to lift yourself up, but they held you down. Azriel turned, walking to the bar cart you two kept in your room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as his shadows held you down.

“They were so upset with you,” he says, the whiskey coming close to his lips. “They wanted me to make a big show in Rita’s about who you belong to, but I told them to wait, and I’d let them have their fun.”

Two shadows traveled up your thighs, and your eyes widen, remembering what’s underneath your skirt.

“Don’t worry,” he drawls, sitting in his leather chair to have an unobstructed view of you. A shadow swirls behind your back, unzipping your top and pulling it off of you. They do the same with your skirt, but they leave your overly optimistic crotchless panties and matching bra on. “I’ll make my way to you, eventually.”

Your mate tsks as he looks at you, his shadows holding you down so you can’t move. They start touching your entrance, their cool, airy touch leaving you needing more.

He stands a few feet away from you, his drink in his hand as he watches his shadows hold you in place to keep you from squirming. Your back arches as they snuck under your bra, pinching your nipples. He chuckles into his drink as a few shadows start circling your clit, your moans a clear indication of how good they feel against you.

His shadows found their way in your shared bed, usually assisting Azriel in touching you or holding you down. On rare occasions such as this, Azriel lets them do as they please, allowing them to lay as much claim to you as he does.

It was euphoric the way they caressed against your exposed skin, never staying still. They whirled and swirled up your legs, your arms, through your hair, around your waist, your breasts. They were enjoying this time with you.

Azriel walks over to the bed, lust coating his eyes and his scent as he asks, “had enough yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, but some shadows circle your neck, applying a light pressure so you can’t speak. Your futile attempts to respond cause him to smirk and in a flash the shadows have stopped roaming your body. Your skin warms at the loss of their cool touch, and you start to move your arms when scarred hands replace the shadows, keeping a harsh grip on your wrists.

He leans down, practically laying on top of you as he leans in and tells you, “undress me.”

Your thoughts still, that need for his skin coming back to you. You sit up immediately, reaching to unbutton his shirt, but he stops you.

“Undress me without touching my skin.”

You whine at your mate knowing exactly why you did everything that led you here. You sit up, hands shaking as you unbutton his shirt. He even turns around so you can undo the buttons underneath his wings. You can’t stop yourself from staring at them, their veins just calling out to you to stroke them, that one spot that you know drives him wild calling to you like a siren.

He chuckles at how long you’ve spent observing him, your eyes taking in every inch of his back. The toned muscles, the tattoos on his upper back, the spot where his back meets the wings.

You find yourself starting to reach out, your fingers inches from his wing when he clears his throat.

“I’m still wearing pants,” he says, in an unimpressed tone. You gasp, the trance on his wings broken as he turns around, allowing you access to his front.

Your eyes roam his torso, the tattoos on the front completing the shapes from the back. You watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes, as your eyes get caught on that line of hair that delves into his pants.

You reach a hand out to undo the laces of his pants, your hands shaking a bit as you do so. From need for him and from fear of punishment if you break another rule, you’re not sure which is influencing the shaking of your hands more.

You take a deep breath as your hands find the top of his pants, taking extra care to avoid his skin. You start pulling his pants down, receiving no help from your mate until they are around his ankles and he steps out of them.

You look at him, standing there in his black boxer briefs, practically drooling thinking about what lays underneath them. You’re gazing at his thighs, looking at the toned muscles he trains every day. He flexes a little at your gaze and you gasp at the movement.

The urge to run your hands up and down his thighs is taking over your senses, until his hand grabs your jaw, moving your gaze to look at his clothed hardened length.

His silent command gets you moving again, and you grab the waistband of his undershorts, pulling them down, taking care as it moves over his length.

His hard cock springs up, hitting his abdomen as it’s freed. You moan at the sight of it, but continue your quest to pull them all the way down. He steps out of them again, and moves to the side of you to lay down on the bed.

He lays there for a beat, his Adonis-like stature warming you from the inside. He grabs your waist, moving each of your legs to straddle him, but keeping you about a foot away from him.

He lines up his hard cock to your entrance, leaving you to hover a few inches away from him. You moan, needing him to let you slide onto him, needing him inside you.

“P-please,” you moan, practically drooling at the sight of the pre-cum spreading down him. He purrs, “My greedy little mate needs my cock, does she?”

You nod your head, but he tuts at you. “Use your words.”

You look at him, his teasing smirk telling you just how much he’s enjoying this. “Can I p-please sit on your cock, feel you inside of me?”

His smirk deepens, and he tells you to go ahead. You start sliding him into you, moaning at the way he’s stretching you. He’s still keeping you in place with his hands, and he helps you guide down onto him.

Once you feel him completely fill you up, you start to move, only to be held back. His hands keep you still, not allowing you to budge. You whine, needing to ride him, needing to fill him pumping in and out of you. He sees how desperately you need him and smiles.

“But darling, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

It’s too much, you need to move. His hands were pressed so hard into your hips, keeping you both in place and keeping himself as deep into you as possible. You can feel them digging into your skin, leaving perfect finger shaped bruises to be found tomorrow.

You could have been sitting there for minutes or days and you’d have no clue. Time crept on, your mate keeping you in the same spot, despite your whining and pleading.

His shadows kept busy, keeping a hold on your hands behind your back, but also by circling your nipples, pinching you. They continued swirling up your thighs, enjoying overstimulating you.

The stimulation becomes too much, with tears eventually leaking down your face, which the shadows gently caress away. Azriel finally speaks, his long silence another form of punishment. His words are usually full of praise for you, except for when you misbehave.

“Now, why am I doing this to you?” He asks, looking into your face.

“Because I was a bad girl.”

He spanks you, hard, the action startling a whimper out of you. His hand rests back on your hips, keeping you in place. “Tell me every bad thing you did tonight.”

And so you did, each action earning a swift slap on your ass.

“I left you to go to the bar by myself.”

Spank.

“I talked to another male.”

Spank.

“I danced with another male.”

Spank.

In between each confession, he held tightly to your ass, rubbing the pain in. At this rate, you’ll hardly be able to sit tomorrow without feeling the sting of this punishment.

After finally reaching the point of the night where you had greeted him with a shriek, the tears were streaming down your face, your ass covered in his hand prints.

“Now, who do you belong to?”

“You.” You tell him, tears clouding your vision. “I won’t disobey you again.”

He chuckles lowly, “oh I know you won’t.” He lifts you off of himself, a whine coming from you as he pulls you off his cock. “Now you’ve made quite a mess on me,” you look down, his thighs and cock covered in a sheen of your juices. “Clean it up.”

Hands still behind your back, you lean forward, licking his thighs, tasting yourself mixed with his sweat.

“Can you taste the desperation?”

You whine, as he holds your head down to his thighs. After successfully cleaning both of his thighs, he guides your head right in front of his cock, the tip mere inches from your mouth.

You’re staring at it, needing it inside you, watching pre-cum leak out of the tip, when he laughs at you.

“Drooling over my cock already?”

You blush, not realizing you had actually drooled over the appendage in front of you.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks, and you nod vigorously. “Stick out your tongue,” he tells you, and you immediately obey. He allows you to roam his cock with your tongue, tasting both of your juices mixed together.

“Put me in your mouth.”

You open your mouth, allowing him entry, and he immediately begins pushing in and out of you. He grabs your hair, holding you in place. You look up at him and he makes direct eye contact with you as he pushes himself as far into your mouth as he can go. He tells you, “I’m going to cum in your mouth, but you’re not allowed to swallow it. Got it?”

He pulls a little harder on your hair to tell you he’s serious. His shadows hold you in place as he fucks your mouth, until you feel him pick up the pace.

After a minute of his intense thrusting, he’s cumming in your mouth, his hot seed shooting into your throat.

“Now open.” He tells you, and when you open your mouth, he smirks at the semen in your mouth. Before you realize it, he spits in your mouth and tells you to close it.

“Now,” he tells you, his face right in front of yours, “no swallowing. I want you to be full from my cum in your mouth and your cunt, in hopes you can get it through your dumb little head that you belong to me.”

He’s pushed you onto your back and has slid back into you. An attempt at a moan comes out but is blocked by the semen in your mouth.

He chuckles, “you don’t want to know what will happen if you swallow before I tell you to.”

He starts pumping into you, filling you with his cock. He’s thrusting in and out of you, and you’re not sure you can take anymore when he moves a hand down and begins fingering you.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back in pleasure, unable to moan because of the cum in your mouth. You’re getting close, all of his attention and teasing being too much. You feel it building for both you and your mate. You know he’s close, his speed increasing drastically.

“You’re going to swallow right as I cum in you. Can you do that? Can you be a good girl for one minute?”

You nod your head yes, but the ecstasy you feel is making thoughts incredibly difficult. He wraps a hand around your throat, his thumb stroking the front of your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

It all happens so fast. You swallow the mixture of spit and cum, the salty tang sliding down your throat. Azriel finishes inside of you, his cum filling you up triggering you to finish.

You lay there, him on top of you. Both of you are panting, unable to form thoughts or words to describe what just happened. Azriel rolls off of you, moving to your side.

He strokes your cheek and asks, “You okay?”

Your hand slowly rises to his field of vision, and you give a thumbs up. He laughs, caressing your face before getting up and getting you a rag. He comes back, helping you clean up while you’re half asleep.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous,” you tell him, falling asleep as he discards the washcloth and crawls into bed with you, wrapping you into his arms.

[jolapeno]

9. breath of fresh air

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nine of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.3k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Baby, where are you?

I’m coming now just needed to get some plants.

If you’re the forest on wheels coming towards me line up somewhere else.

Wow, that's mean, Morales.

I am. But also, that’s a fuck load of plants.

It is and we’re going to have so much fun naming them.

Surrounded by unopened boxes, and paint tins that are due to be put on the wall, you both sit cross-legged on the floor of your soon-to-be office floor.

It's hard to stop it, the smile which spreads across your lips. The scent of fast food flows from your ripped-open bag and his neatly opened one, as you watch him turn his cap backwards and dig a hand into the paper bag as he pulls out a sauce pot.

Of course, he still finds a second to glare at the plant behind you.

“It’s up for debate, but french fries might be the way to my soul.”

Dipping his own into the sauce, he smirks. “What’s the other contender?”

You, you think.

It's there, threaded inside of you. Sewn in now. Stitched so deep into you that he’ll be remembered forever, no matter what.

Meeting his eyes mid-chew, the word you reverbing around your skull. Echoing. Practically marking itself against any surface space it can in there.

“Your mouth.”

Choking, his hand is quick to cover his mouth, eyes alarmed, quickly filling with tears as he continues to hack. Sliding his drink towards him, across the floor of the project that brought him here today.

“You can’t…” he begins, taking another mouthful, “Do that to me.”

Smirking, you grab another handful of fries. “From the gleam in your eyes, I say you like it.”

“I am not gleaming.”

“No? Damn, I’m disappointed.”

Rolling his eyes, he nudges you with his foot—your eyes glancing at the dinosaur-covered socks for the twelfth time since he’s been here.

“Luca has good taste in socks.”

“You’re telling me,” he replies, “I also have Batman ones, some cartoon ones and ones with flowers on.”

Smiling, you continue to chew. “Which ones are your favourite.”

Scrunching up the paper your food came in, you throw it into the bag. Watching him take a final bite of his own as you smirk.

“It’s the flower ones, isn’t it?”

“Definitely the flower ones.”

Laughing, tongue peeking between your teeth, you lean back on your hands, legs outstretched. “Saving them for a special occasion?”

Nodding, he takes another slurp of his drink, feeling his eyes drag up and down your legs. “Thought I could wear them for when I woo you later on this week.”

“Yeah? You want to model your socks for me, Morales.”

“Dinner and a show I heard is the perfect date night.”

Wiping his hands on his napkin, he stares at you—clean hand on your ankle, massaging it.

“You keep doing that, and we won’t be building furniture.”

Groaning, he sighs. All deep, layered with confliction—until he whispers it: after. It’s low, practically dragged through the gravel of his voice by the time it reaches your ear. Heat spreading through your stomach, not able to tear your eyes from him, just thankful that he does when he goes to stand.

A moment of reprieve, a chance to collect yourself.

That is, until he stretches out his hand, sliding yours into it as he pulls you up to stand. For a moment, just paused—staring at him, a tuft of curls poking through under the rim of his hat.

“I told you how handsome you are,” you say, arms sliding around his neck, leaning close—just enough, to press your mouth to his. “Cause you are.”

Biting the edge of his lip, he smirks. “I’ve got a utility knife in my pocket.”

“Oh?”

Brows lifting, grinning, Frankie pulls you closer. “You into that?”

“On you? Fuck yeah.”

Your lips glide over his, tasting the salt from his fries and the onion from his burger. Not caring, not as you hold him close, keeping him flush, deepening it until he clutches your jaw, walking you both back, kicking a box.

“Fuck.”

Almost laughing, you smirk. “We should…”

Tongue swiping over his lip, Frankie nods. Gaze unmoving even as you step back, bending to tidy the wrappers and bags as you glance back periodically.

“What?”

Shaking his head, he shrugs one shoulder, eyes widening as he smiles. “Nothing. Jus’… hurry back.”

It leaves your lips breathlessly, the word sure. It flows through the air to him, before you leave the room, before giddiness swallows and smothers you up. A grin not easily wiped by your knee connecting with the cabinet as you skid into the kitchen. Dousing your hands in cold water, hoping the temperature will touch your cheeks and cool them.

Thinking of him waiting near the checkout—broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his worn

You do. Almost skidding in your kitchen when you throw the trash away, pausing at the sink to wash your hands, before you’re casually walking back. Doing so, just in time to see him slide that knife along the flat-pack furniture, unboxing the drawers—staring at them all crouched wearing a furrowed expression with an IKEA pencil behind his ear.

And you’re glad he doesn’t look up at the doorway, because it gives you a minute, to lean, head resting as your heart skips a step, feeling all large and full and full of happiness. A feeling, one surging up inside of you—full of lightness and truth—swirling around your breath and trying to form into words.

But, then he looks at you. Lifts his chin, the biggest brown eyes smoothing out to look at you—and you’re sure the words are going to rip out of your throat. Forced to greet the air, and burn themselves into it.

I really like you, Frankie.

I really, really do.

Each letter swallowed back, sight dropping to the knife he holds back—an act you’re apparently quite into from the way you feel the heat in your stomach, a little ripple of want starting to stir as you slowly edge your way into the room. Listening, hanging onto his words as he offers suggestions of how the two of you can do this.

It’s why it makes sense, at first, when he asks if you’d begin building the drawers while he begins the carcass. His toolbox he’d brought in with him opening, pulling various tools you’re not sure were listed on the instructions.

It continues to make sense until you realise you began constructing the drawer, incorrectly. A disappointed voice ebbing, beginning to nip. It breeds in doubt as you study the paper again, and again. Mouth opening and promptly shutting as you try to make heads or tails of what should be a very easy thing.

But that means confessing you’re about as hopeless at building as you are at the rest of the DIY project.

Peering at the instructions again, you try not to sigh. Try not to let a heavier exhale escape through your nostrils, and possibly showcase your growing anxiety-brewed annoyance.

Because you hope he’s not having you build drawers because it’s easier. Because he views you as this hopeless thing that can’t be taught. Even if, in some ways, that assumption would be correct. You just hope that it isn’t pity or any other negative connotation that has begun popping into your mind and bursting behind your eyes in sorrowful falling dark-hued confetti.

An increasing need to prove yourself rising, flooding you as though it wishes to drown you. Making it hard to swallow, never mind breathe—eyes glancing down as they begin to burn with worry, with annoyance and a lot of other emotions you’re struggling to handle—

“Hey,” he says, soothing—hand cupping your cheek as you're tilted up from diagrams to his eyes.

The ones that soothe, that calm—that feel like a safe place.

“Hi.”

Slowly smiling, he strokes your skin. A thing you’re not sure you’ll ever tire from. Not ever. Not as long as his eyes remain as kind and full of warmth.

“I was calling out for you.”

“I’m so—“

“Wondered,” he continues, interrupting, burying your apology before it meets land and plants itself, “If you wanted a go at helping me build this bit.”

Swallowing, both the emotions that remain fizzing and the worries, you smile. “You sure? I’m not… this isn’t something I’m good at.”

“That’s why I’m helping. To teach you, right?”

Nodding, you grin when his lips find your forehead, helping you up before grabbing something from his toolbox. If newer, shinier than the one you’d seen him using—a colour as close to the one you’d said was your favourite.

“Did you buy me a tool, Butterscotch?”

Scratching the back of his head, he tries not to blush. A thing you can tell from the way he averts his eyes, and pink creeps up his neck. “Yeah, it was nothing. Just thought it be easier for you to have your own.”

“My own… prodding device?”

Shaking his head, his eyes land on you. “It’s an electric screwdriver.”

“Of course it is, I was testing you.”

Snorting, he grabs a piece of wood, bringing it between the two of you. “I almost believe you.”

You think Harry would hire me even if I know absolutely nothing about hardware or tools?

To annoy me, most probably. You doing okay?

Not really.

They want more tweaks?

Yeah. I don’t mind making the changes, but wish they’d been more clear from the beginning. So I don’t feel like a failure.

You want me to call in half an hour? Can try and make you smile.

You make me smile effortlessly. But no, it’s okay. I’m going to enjoy a shower and have an early night. Sleep off my bad mood and rest my muscles from building all that furniture the other day.

You goof.

A goof who has your toolbox and her own electric tightener.

That will sound so wrong to anyone else.

Especially if I tell them it goes with my bedside power tools.

Are they what I think they are?

Maybe.

Fuck. Put thoughts in my head now.

Do I look hot?

Always. Will you message me in the morning?

Of course, baby. Try not to dream of me.

Impossible, baby.

Just got out of the movies, was able to eat half the popcorn tub before a jump scare made it mysteriously land on the floor.

Do butter-caked fingers have anything to do with it?

No. I believe the leading cause was a mean friend picking a movie that they knew would scare me. The jury is still out on whether I could have saved the popcorn if properly notified of the jump scares.

You both have fun though?

Yes, a lot. Even if I won’t sleep for a week. I’m excited to see you tomorrow. I’ve missed you.

You’ve missed me?

Try not to grin too much, Morales.

Too late for that, Rainy. I've missed you too.

I've missed butter-SCOTCH fingers.

Can tell me how much later, if you want?

Do you want to phone sex with me, Morales? I think I'd rather make you wait till tomorrow when I see you.

Now who's mean.

It’s hard to avoid the smile on your face, even in the fogged-up mirror. Water dripping down your neck, collecting in the towel wrapped around your chest as Frankie presses his lips to your hairline.

“You feelin' clean, baby?”

“I don't think what we just did in your shower could constitute as cleaning, Butterscotch.”

Smirking, skin radiating heat, Frankie tips your chin up, mouth sliding back over yours like he had done when the two of you had stepped under the shower. The intention innocent, until hungry eyes raked over bare skin.

"Robe's on the back of my bedroom door, baby," he whispers, leaving you to finish drying in his bathroom.

As though it’s normal, routine.

Your toothbrush beside his—the products you’d packed in your overnight bag on the side of the counter.

It's a thing that makes your teeth bite down on your lip and your fingers retraced the path he drew against the suds on your skin. Thinking about how the water fell down along his jaw, ran down between your bodies as he hiked your leg up—

You jump when a clatter pulls you to the present. Heart fluttering, body resting against the side of the basin as your breath dances with the steam. Even if he's rooms away, you hear him singing.

It travelling, calling to you.

A soundtrack to you re-dressing as you hang the used towel on the hook, sliding some clean clothes on, before padding out to wrap the robe around you and grab his t-shirt from the bed.

With each step to the kitchen, you're aware of how your body smells of his body wash. A scent you wish your skin only ever smells like now, if it can’t be his aftershave. Just so you could have a piece of him, a thing to go with the texts, phone calls and video chats when the two of you find moments in between the busy.

There's no need for that tonight, not as he’s cooking for you.

Shoulder resting against the door, you find yourself not wanting to announce your arrival. Just take in his frame, how his back is to you, allowing you to watch how his muscles flex along his bare back as he grabs a knife from a drawer.

“You know, if you posted this kind of video on your Instagram, I think you'd beat that one where you're showing people how to paint wood."

Glancing over his shoulder, you hold the top up. His face shifts into gratitude as he drops what's in his hand and takes it from you. Simple, a very nothing thing that his face seems to show the opposite of.

He fidgets uncomfortably, the shyest smile trying to appear. “Shut up.” 

“While you were very informative about preparing the wood before beginning in that video, I think I know how you got one hundred thousand views in a weekend.” 

Smirking, he folds his arms. “Because you watched it on repeat while you missed me?”

“No,” you grin, watching him run his tongue over his teeth to stop himself from smirking. “You like to do a little thot-shot.”

“A what-what?” 

Licking your lips, leaning against the wall, watching his fingers run up and down his bicep, arms still folded. “You wipe your face with the bottom of your t-shirt, Morales. Showing off your… physique.” 

“Mierda.” 

“You look very good. Had to watch it myself a few times, to be sure.”

His eyes dart away, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I mean it,” you add. “You look really good, Frankie.” 

Stepping forward, you kiss his cheek. The heat from it warms your lips as you try to hide your grin. Instead, pulling out a stool from under his island and sliding onto it, elbow on the worktop, you rest your chin. Watching him turn, facing back to the ingredients and pans.

That's when you spot it. The loose curl that has fallen over his forehead as he leans forward. It just hanging there. Slowly beginning to sway as he resumes chopping and slicing.

“What're you making me?”

“Special asado tacos.”

It’s hard to suppress the whimper in the back of your throat as your stomach rumbles, his chin lifting—brow raising as you try to clear your throat.

“Sounds delicious… what makes them special? Is it the chef?”

Smirking, he shakes his head. “It’s a family recipe. So, I hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“I doubt you could, right? It’s in your bones.”

Shrugging, he stares down at some paper—his pinky flattening it, before he brushes the chopped peppers into a pan and grabs something else.

“I don’t make it often.”

“How many times have you?”

Pausing, he doesn’t look up. Just stops his knife over the skin of the vegetable.

“Frankie. Is this the first time you’ve made it?”

“No,” he answers. Quickly, red rising up his neck. “It’s just… the first time I’ve made it for someone.”

Licking your lips, you smile—fingers outstretching over his counter, it cool under your touch. “Oh, you like me, like me.”

Smirking, he continues to chop and dice, shooting glances at you. “Maybe.”

“I think you do.”

The precision he cuts with makes you almost forget your teasing—your own name, even. The quickness of it, the perfect way they’re all cut. It’s enough to make your thighs press, a new competency unlocked it seemed—as though you were both collecting and becoming aware of them all at once.

Distantly, you hear your name. Briefly aware as you flick your gaze up, of the concern etched there—the sudden silence damning.

“Hm?”

Grinning, shaking his head as he slides the chopped food away. “I said, what makes you say that?”

Sighing, all deep—almost soothing, you smile. “Well, you named all my new plants with me.”

“I did do that.”

Nodding, you roll your lips as he uses his little finger to trace down the recipe in front of him.

“And you didn’t judge me for the fact they all needed a name.”

Casting a glance your way, he both frowns and smiles simultaneously. “Baby… I’d… I’d never.”

“I know,” you say, encased in confidence, sitting up straighter, “Because you like me.”

Shrugging, he begins moving around, collecting ingredients—the back of his hand brushing over his forehead. “Maybe you’re on to something.”

Humming, you shift on your stool—watching. Finding it hard not to keep your eyes on him, not as he moves around confidently, capably, sprinkling things in and adding pinches of others.

It isn’t until he seems more content, that things are doing what they’re supposed to, do you slip from the stool. Moving towards him, sliding between him and the worktop as your fingers brush over his cheek—an act so similar to the shower, before his hand slid between your thighs and made you struggle to stand.

“I like you too,” you whisper.

His eyebrows raise at the suggestion, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Is that so?” he asks. “Well, guess if we both like one another, that means I am allowed to ask something…”

Sucking in air through your teeth, you scrunch your nose. “I don't know, do you think you're allowed?”

Pinching your side softly, he smiles. “I wanted to ask... what we are, what are we?”

Narrowing your eyes, you roll your lips, fingers continuing to twist his curls around your nails. “What do you want me to be?”

Shrugging, he smiles—eyes slowly crinkling, all slow in the way they eventually narrow, mouth parting, basking you in human-made sunshine.

“You want me to be yours?”

He groans, it vibrating through you, hips rolling against his as he presses you to the counter. Body somehow humming, even after earlier.

“Want to be mine, Francisco?”

His hand grasps your hip more intently. “More than anything.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Nodding, you tug him closer too, bodies flush, little space between the two of you. “All yours.”

His nose slides against your cheek, before his forehead rests on yours. His eyes almost blend into one large brown oasis—almost.

“Now I’m your girlfriend, do I get extra privileges?”

Frowning, he steps to the side, stirring the cooking food—one hand on your hip, as though not wanting you to move.

“You know, show me how to use your power tools?”

Snorting, he rolls his eyes. “You say mine like others are different.”

Smirking, looking at him with the most innocent eyes you can fake, taking his hand in yours. “They’re different from mine.” Frowning, he stares for a second, seemingly baffled. “Mine aren’t used to build things, rather… make legs shake and make me cry out your name.”

You hear his swallow, as well as see it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he lies, stirring again. “Jus... Y’just incredible.”

Picking up a piece of pepper, you smile—all wicked. “Oh, I know. And aren’t you lucky I’m yours?”

THEY'RE BACK, GOD I'VE MISSED THEM. next week, we enter a spicy chapter (muhaha) and a nice little announcement about them too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: when he comes back from arguably most demanding races of the season, he truly wants to be cuddled up with his girlfriend especially when they haven't seen each other in two weeks.

warnings: established relationship!, mild smut (18+ MDNI), cussing. the usual. typos.

wc: 2.6k

requested: yes | no ~ this lovely request right here!

saint team radio: i wanna scream, this was supposed to be out in SEPTEMBER!!! but now it’s here 🤭. lil one shot before releasing “Break my Soul” and i hope you guys enjoy this one. plus i’m getting used to writing smut now 😧 anyways bye! love ya!

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @lorarri @thisismeracing @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @planetmimi @alika-4466 @arshiyuh (lmk if you wanna be tagged!)

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽 (i’m watching you 🤨)

-

"I know what you are." You gasped as you watched Bella confront Edward in the forest. The morning sun was shining its rays through the large windows and sliding doors of the large house. The couch was slowly sinking you into it, the packet of cookies from your favourite bakery nestled next to your comfortable figure.

Understandably, it was quite early in the morning, 9 am to be precise, to be watching Twilight and munching on cookies but to be fair, Roscoe had woken you up for early morning snuggles. Deciding to check the time on your phone, you became distracted by your wallpaper of Lewis with you next to him with the green mountains of Bali right behind you both, flowers behind your ear to celebrate your birthday.

You truly missed him a lot, these past two weeks felt as if they dragged on and on the longer you waited to see him. Only being able to see him on your phone screen and tv, his fashion becoming a staple for you to follow almost every week. When his face appeared on screen for a post race interview, you would find yourself admiring him and completely closing off to whatever he was saying into the mics. Even seeing his car drive around gave you butterflies, just hearing his name would make you stop in your tracks every single time.

Lewis' face quickly invaded your mind, no longer focusing on the movie before you. Although you had tried to distract yourself with giving yourself tasks to do along with completing some work you probably missed, doing those things were just always better with your boyfriend around. Physically being on each other's space was something you needed desperately, a true connection when realising that you both had the love language of physical touch.

During these two week, you would resist the urge to touch yourself in thought of Lewis, deeming him to be the only one who could find your sweet spots so much better than you could. Embarrassingly enough, you had resorted to watching fan edits of him just for you to feel something. All you did was like a single video on your feed then you fell into the rabbit hole of his fans being extremely talented and feeling the way you felt but you would sleep better knowing that you had him all to yourself at the end of the day.

Snapping you out of your daily daydream about your boyfriend, your phone buzzed with a notification from the front gate of the house to say that a car has entered the driveway and you immediately jumped up in excitement, alerting Roscoe. "Come on boy, Dads is home." You smiled to the energetic dog who was eagerly waiting for you to put your slides on.

Opening the front door wide enough, Roscoe ran right past you to greet Lewis as the man was taking his luggage out of the trunk, giving his affection to his dog before standing up straight (with a bit of caution) to look at you standing just a few feet away. He studied you from head to toe, the Nike pro shorts were barely visible underneath the +44 sweater that you helped design. Your braids were fresh, nails done and from what he saw, a small but new tattoo on your hand and he swore his stomach flipped at the sight of you.

"Hey baby!" You expressed as you threw your arms around his neck, his head buried itself into your neck and your scent filled up his nostrils. "Hi." The tired voice vibrated through your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His large hands were resting on your lower back moving ever so slowly, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Moving your heads back, you gave him a sweet peck as he looked into your eyes afterwards. Studying his face a little, his eyes were a little droopy and his face wasn't as bright as you saw it on facetime hours ago. Letting go of the hug, you moved to help him with his suitcases but noticed that he seemed to walk a little funny as he walked into the house.

Finding him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water, you chose to lean back into the counter next to him. "Knowing you, I can tell you didn't eat so how about you go shower and i'll make breakfast?"  You suggested and all the man could do was smile and lean in to kiss you, tasting your strawberry chapstick before going upstairs with his hand on his back.

-

A hearty breakfast and him talking about how the race went in terms of strategy then a few discussions of random stuff, you both opted for chilling on the couch to catch up on a bit of TV. Lunch was ordered and you two spent the afternoon just being in each other's presence. You then decided to showcase the clothes you had bought during the two weeks he had been gone, each dress and skirt getting shorter than the last with his exhaustion preventing him from wanting to take you right then and there.

Changing back into the original outfit you had on, he quickly changed into his gym wear to work out in the home gym he had built in before you had moved in. "Will you be okay to workout, Lew?" You asked, filling the glass with small heart shaped ice cubes, ironically matching the tennis bracelet you were wearing. "I'm fine sweetie, I promise." He muttered as his eyes trailed down to your chest, the +44 sweater long gone as the day became hotter. "Eyes up here, babe." You giggled as he didn't even seem to hear you say anything.

"What?" He snapped out of it, making you laugh a little harder. "Go do your workout stuff, you dork. When you come back, we can do some skin care." You smiled as he held your hips with his grip tightened. "I can think of something else-"

"Lewis, I'm gonna bite you. Go." You narrowed your eyes at the man who walked away giggling as if he heard the funniest joke.

Nighttime was slowly approaching and dinner was already prepared, finding pesto really easy to make. Lewis was still in the home gym, your phone buzzing with instagram telling you that he posted on his story. Clicking on it, you saw how your boyfriend took a full body mirror picture with his shirt completely off and he looked a bit breathless. The lights glistened on his abs and tattoos, accentuating his tan even more. The v line was showing as his shorts sat quite low on his waist and you were left speechless, gripping the blanket so much that you could barely feel your hand anymore. Rubbing your thighs together, you tried to relax your thoughts by reminding yourself that he still has what seemed like an injury on his back.

But to be fair, nothing could stop him, not even an injury.

You tried distracting yourself from the instagram story by playing some music and doing some online shopping. Hearing his heavy footsteps enter the room, his sweaty self looked at you with a look you knew all too well but you decided to not do the deed tonight because you thought he needed to be well rested for this.

"You gonna go shower?" You stopped what you were doing and faced him with crossed arm with a little smile on your face. He came a bit closer and you backed up. "Lew, get away. You're sweaty." Your cheeks started to hurt from the smiling and all he did was open his arms as he came closer to you. "Lewis, I'm so serious. Babe wai-" You didn't even finish your sentence before you bolted, heading up to your shared bedroom and he chased after you with both your giggles filling the air.

"Baby, stop moving. I can't put on the under eye mask." You pouted, holding the cold cucumber scented applicator in your hand. "It's just cold." He muttered, holding the back of your legs as you stood between his legs. "C'mon gramps, it'll take like 5 minutes then you'll forget it's there." Knowing how he'd react to the nickname, you received the nastiest side eye you've gotten from him. Doubling down in laughter, you held onto the bathroom sink counter for dear life as you continued to laugh with him.

As the laughter died down, you fixed your braids into a bun and put your hand out for him to give up his hair tie that he has had on the whole day. "I like your earrings, love. When'd you get them?" He asked, now standing behind you as you made eye contact in the mirror. His eyes still had the same look as when he came out of the gym. "Remember that one bracelet you brought back from Milan last month? They opened a store in Central london so I think it was Thursday." You nodded as you told him, removing both your under eye masks to then fully wash and moisturise your faces.

Lewis opted to watch you complete your routine as you did like to take your time with it, the scented candles creating the perfect atmosphere. His left hand came around your waist, his other hand holding onto your hip and his head dropping into your neck with small butterfly-like kisses peppering your skin. You stopped everything you were doing to feel exactly what Lewis was doing to you, his large hands lowering down your body with each kiss.

"Lew, baby. You need to rest." You whispered, unable to speak from his soft kisses. "Missed you so much, just wanna feel you.” He whined into your neck. As he picked up his head to kiss even further, you already turned your head to look at him, your face filled with worry.

“Can you not make that face?” You slightly jutted your lip out, his face sending a completely different message. “Is it working?”

“No.” You tried your best to hide the smile from your face, your boyfriend’s face dropping at the answer. Backing away from his embrace, you walked into the bedroom, fully aware that he was following right after you.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you watched as Lewis stood in front of you then locked eyes with you. “Love, can I at least eat you out?” His whiny voice sounded out and you were fully taken by surprise. You had yet to experience this side of him in the bedroom but if it meant hearing that voice all over again, you were all in.

Not even waiting for your words, the man dropped down onto his knees, holding your thighs as balance as he maintained the eye contact with you. “Please, please baby. I’ll be so good, I promise. Won’t tease you, I’m starving. Just wanna taste you.” He rambles, his eyes slightly closed as his voice drops the closer his face gets to your thighs.

You couldn’t believe what was actually happening, so much so that it took you a few seconds to even think of a response. His chocolate eyes looked up at you with such anticipation, eagerly waiting for you to say something, anything. All you could do was nod and within seconds, he began kissing up your thighs, silently thanking the universe for bringing the two of you together.

Between her slight panting, you remembered that his back was in pain from earlier in the day, giving you an idea. “Lew.” You called out, his head rising to stare at you once more. “Lie on your back, don’t need you to hurt it more than it already is.” You said, slowly guiding him to stand up with you then push him down onto the bed by his chest. He huffed out a slight chuckle at your eagerness.

Once the clothes were off, you crawled up to straddle him but catching him by surprise, your lower body was closer to his face than he thought. Your legs were on each side of his head, your dripping core was hovering right above his mouth, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. Gently holding onto his braids, you lowered yourself slightly yet not fully sitting, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“Y/n baby. Sit on my face, please.” Lewis groaned from underneath you, his breath hitting your core making you slightly shiver. His large hands creeped up onto your ass, bringing you down onto his face with a grip. Once you had gotten used to him devouring you like a touch starved man, you eventually found your rhythm and began moving in perfect harmony with his tongue, slightly pulling his braids when you felt the all too familiar knot into your stomach .

Your orgasm ripped through you, your moans bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom. When wanting to lift yourself off of him, he continued to lick and suck on your sensitive clit, overstimulating you quite a bit. Your moans grew into whimpers and that’s when Lewis knew that you were beginning to feel tired, your body slightly shaking from the intense sensation of your release.

Now having a bit more energy, you actually lifted yourself up from his mouth and wanted to go down on him as you craved to have something that would give him the same sensation that he gave you. Before you could even reach his hard on, he held onto one of your hands. Kissing your palm, he spoke up. “Can you please just fuck me? I need to feel you around me, sweetie.” Lewis asked, the same look from before wooing you so easily.

You continued making your way down on him until he suddenly flipped the both of you. “Lew! Warn a girl next time!” You wanted to roll your eyes at him but he just smiled and leaned down to give you a breathtaking kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach once more.

“I’ve got you, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” He smirked, holding your legs to go around his waist. Once entering you, it truly felt like this should go on forever, have this night replay in your mind like a broken record. His hips snapping against yours would bring you back to reality, seeing stars once the familiar knot returned to taunt you. With the way he was pounding into you, you would’ve never thought he had back pain the whole time.

You screamed upon your 4th release, your body flopping against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. Lewis emerged from the bathroom with a warm and slightly wet towel to gently wipe your pussy, you sucked in a breath as your sensitive clit felt the material against you.

Once fully done with aftercare for you and himself, you looked up at the man as you layed on your front to look at him laying next to you. “I truly love you, Y/n. Couldn’t thank the stars enough for you.” He expressed, the look in his eyes sending a deeper message into your soul.

“I love you so much, Lewis.” You responded and you could feel the love radiating off of each other.

This was love and you could forever drown in this feeling with Lewis right by your side.

[little-diable]

Make a man quiver – Tommy Shelby (smut)

I have to say, I absolutely adore this piece, I hope y'all will love it as much! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader has been hired by the Italians to kill Tommy Shelby, knowing all of his weaknesses for beautiful women. She is a feared phantom, a woman with a high kill streak. But perhaps they underestimated Tommy's hunger for blood and reputation.

Warnings: 18+, smut, public piv, unprotected piv, betrayal, weapons and blood, but a cheeky ending

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (4k words)

“Please, I’m so hungry.” She was kneeling on the ground, eyes staring ahead at the people walking past her. People who didn’t look at her once. People who’d rather laugh about her than give her any of their money. Anger flushed through her whenever they ignored her, not even sparing her a glance as if she was invisible.

“Please,” no other word managed to overcome her lips, unable to beg for things she didn’t truly need. It was a dangerous game, a game that could end with her life on the line, killed by those who forced her to kneel on that very spot. But she had always been fascinated by a good gamble, unable to say no even if she could end up with a bullet piercing her head. 

She could still hear the words they had spoken to her, voices dripping with that rich Italian accent she had once loved but now hated. They had forced her to give in, knowing how to get their hands on the woman who was known as the ruthless one, the reckless one, the one even Death feared. 

“Fuck, I can’t do this shit.” Her words were met with a chuckle, eyes forced off the ground to meet a pair of bright ones. Arthur Shelby was standing in front of her, hands pushed into the pockets of his trousers, a cigarette between his lips. 

“I doubt that’s how you get any money, love.” His raspy words left her giggling, shaking her head with a soft smile he clearly mistook for embarrassment. His bright eyes wandered over her dirty features for a few moments, taking in the torn garments she wore, the bloody wounds gracing her arms. “What’s your name?”

“Mira,” the lie rolled off her tongue all too quickly, (y/n) had lost count on the fake names she had been forced to use – once she had chosen those that had some sentimental touch to them, something to remember those that were no longer part of her life, but by now she chose whatever came to mind first. Her soul had changed, the kind-hearted girl she had once been had disappeared from her, letting go as if she had been washed away by the tide, dragged into the salty ocean without anything to hold onto. Now she was nothing more than the shell of the woman she had been before the war.

“Come, let’s get some food into your body, Mira. I’m Arthur.” He reached a hand out for her to take, pulling her to her aching feet with one tug. Arthur wrapped one arm around her shoulder, keeping (y/n) pressed to his side as he guided her down the street.

This had been easy, almost too easy. And yet (y/n) couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars since this was what she had been hoping for. 

“Want to tell me how you got those cuts?” Her gaze found the cuts littering her arms, eyes momentarily growing glassy as she was forced to remember her last interaction with Luca Changretta. 

“Listen to me carefully, (y/n),” Luca Changretta had his hand placed on her cheeks, tightly squeezing them to force her to look at him. He was towering over her, with a knife in his hand, seemingly enjoying the way her blood dripped from the shiny blade. “You know that this is payback, don’t you?”

“For what? Not letting you fuck me?” He had first appeared at her house last week, inviting himself in with a sickenly-sweet grin glued to his lips. Perhaps he had hoped that his charm would work on her, perhaps he had hoped that he could fuck her into oblivion and then force her to work for him, whatever it was he had hoped for, it hadn’t happened. Within minutes she had pierced a knife into his thigh, forcing him out of her house with threats rolling off her tongue. 

“You know, I was surprised to hear that you were allowed to return to this country after the things you’ve done. Who did you fuck for that to happen?” Luca moved even closer, she could feel his breath fanning her face, making her thrash in his hold. She had never felt fear, and yet she was all too used to the feeling of disgust men like Luca Changretta forced through her system. 

“You’re wasting my time here if you want to talk about old times.” Her voice was emotionless, cold eyes staring at the grinning mobster. Two could play this game, a game she had never lost before, no matter how many times knifes had been forced into her skin, cutting her once spotless body. 

“You killed my cousin, did you know that? Of course you didn’t, mercenaries never cared about those they killed. But now it’s time for your apology, (y/n).” 

“Mira?” Arthur murmured her name, forcing her out of her memory. She had to blink a few times, had to clear her throat before she could speak up. 

“You know how it is, as a woman living on the street you’re never safe.” The hum leaving Arthur managed to calm her nerves, hoping that he wouldn’t force her to speak any more lies for at least a few more minutes. She wasn’t a stranger to playing these roles, wasn’t a stranger to the game of fooling men like Arthur, and yet she hated doing this to the family she had always admired, a family she had always wanted to work for. 

“You’re not a picky eater, are you?” (Y/n) stared at Arthur for a second as he held open the door to The Garrison for her, waiting for her to enter.

“Because I’m homeless and a beggar?” He choked on his breath, cheeks growing rosy at her teasing tone. The laugh that clawed through (y/n) echoed through the room, forcing eyes towards the two of them. Arthur didn’t reply to her teasing, he only pulled her through the Garrison towards a table where she could spot a few familiar faces, but especially the one she had hoped to cross paths with, Tommy Shelby.

“Here, sit. John, get Mira some food.” It took the younger Shelby brother a moment to rise to his feet, eyes flickering between his brother and (y/n). No words were spoken as John disappeared, allowing (y/n) to relax in the chair for a second before she caught Tommy’s curious gaze. 

“We were looking for someone to help around here, eh? Mira’s perfect for the job.” Her pupils grew wider, wondering where Arthur was going with this. Had he already taken a liking to her? Was he always this foolish to invite strangers to work for them?

“And why is that?” Goosebumps rose on (y/n)’s forearms at the sound of Tommy’s rich voice, smoother than the expensive clothing she’d wear at home, wrapping itself around her like a snake slithering up her limbs. He emanate danger, a sensation (y/n) had always found herself addicted to. She’d win this game, even if it meant killing Tommy Shelby. 

“I’m a fast learner, and I have no trouble with fighting off drunkards, that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” The brothers laughed in unison, intently studying her as John placed some soup down for her. Her stomach was in knots, begging her not to eat something, and yet (y/n) knew she had to sell her story, hastily shoving the soup down her throat. 

“Seems like we’ll have to work on your manners first, love.”

……

“Evening, Tommy.” (Y/n) shot him a quick smile as she walked past him, carrying empty glasses towards the bar. She didn’t hear the soft reply leaving him, didn’t pick up on the smile he wore. 

It had been a few weeks since Arthur had first dragged her to The Garrison, clueslessly allowing the enemy to join their forces. Within days she had managed to wrap the Shelby men around her fingers, with a special focus on Tommy. As much as she hated to admit it, her heart skipped a few beats whenever he was close, attention drawn to him like a moth to a flame. A flame she couldn’t kill, needing the light to survive. 

“Mira,” he called for her, catching her curious gaze. Smoke left his nostrils as he pointed towards the chair next to him. The Garrison was empty by now, with just the two of them left behind. Slowly she rounded the bar to walk towards him, plopping down in the chair. Tommy reached a cigarette out for her to take, alighting it for her as his piercing eyes burned into her skin. 

“Tell me about you, Mira.” He intently watched her as if he could see straight through her facade, uncovering every layer that hid her true identity. But (y/n) didn’t give in that easily, she took a deep inhale, letting the smoke blow out into the barely alight room, her eyes locked with his. 

“There’s not much to tell, I lost both my parents before the war, and I have no family left. Nobody was in need for a woman like me, so I had to find ways to survive.” The day she had been invited into the Garrison she had been invited to stay with Arthur for a while, knowing that she had to take on the offer, if she wanted to sell her story. It hadn’t taken her long to move out though, explaining that with the money she was making now she could afford living on her own. 

“Well, we’re certainly glad we got you around now.” Her chuckles left Tommy grinning, an unfamiliar sight her heart enjoyed a tad bit too much. Deep down she knew that this was her chance, the moment she had been waiting for. All she had been planning for was getting in a room with Tommy, without any other Shelby’s near. But now she didn’t want to move, didn’t even want to think about killing him, not today. “You’re a distracting sight, Mira.” 

“Am I? How so?” She leaned forward, it was a bold move, a move that seemed to do the trick on Tommy. Slowly he cupped her cheek, thumb running over her lower lip. She felt her heart racing, pounding in her chest as if Tommy was about to rip it from her. 

“I think you know the answer to that.” Her body begged her to cross the distance between them, her eyes met his for a second, wondering if he’d pull away, but Tommy didn’t move as if he was giving her the chance to break their contact apart. Slowly (y/n) crossed the distance between them, lips meeting Tommy’s for a slow kiss. He tasted of whisky, of cigarettes, and of something she had never got to experience before, of home. 

Within seconds Tommy had pulled her into his lap, letting the kiss grow rougher with his hands wandering down her sides. Their cigarettes were long forgotten, burning out while Tommy’s hands disappeared beneath her dress. Moans clawed through her as his fingers found her cunt, groaning at the wetness growing between her thighs.

“Should we do this here?” (Y/n) murmured her words against his lips, gasping as he rose to his feet with her clinging to him. Tommy pushed her down on the table, standing between her thighs. For a second all they did was stare at one another, gazes filled with lust, anticipation, something that made (y/n) forget about what she was supposed to do. 

“It’s just us here, love, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you.” Tommy fumbled with his trousers, freeing his twitching cock within moments. Both were too riled up to care about slow touches, needing to feel one another close, buried deep inside of her with his cock stretching her walls. Tommy spat into his palm to lube himself up, and within seconds he had pushed into her. 

Both groaned inn unison at the intrusion, not giving them any time to adjust as their bodies begged for more. Tommy fucked her ruthlessly, cock disappearing deep inside of her with every thrust. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping Tommy close as she lost her grip on reality. 

“Fuck, Tommy. You’re so big.” The grin he wore had a devilish touch to it, leaving her to wonder if it was truly Tommy who was fucking her or a demon taking on his features. And in that very moment, she began to pick up on the way he was making her feel, something no other man had ever pushed through her. 

His fingers found her pulsing bundle, drawing curses from her parted lips as if they were composing a symphony, set on creating the most beautiful sounds. It was a sight so raw, a sight so familiar, both could’t help but chase the release that was about to push through them any moment now. 

“Such a pretty sight, it’s a miracle no other man has claimed you.” His rough voice left her gasping, pushed into the open arms of her orgasm. Tommy fucked her through her high, watching her fall apart beneath him with twinkling eyes burning into her skin. He followed her a few moments later, pulling out of her to stain her thighs. 

“I guess I’m the lucky man who’s able to claim you, eh?” 

……

“I expected better from you.” Luca Changretta’s voice filled her house, drawing a gasp from (y/n) as she stepped into the dark room. She flickered on the light with a snarl leaving her, hand reaching for her gun to point it at Luca. It was a useless threat as he was accompanied by his men, and yet she was tired of this game, of the smugness he emanated. 

“You should have known that I don’t do deals.” The chuckle that ripped through the mobster left (y/n) tensing, keeping her distance as she poured herself a glass of brown liquid. He watched her every move, watched her plop down on the couch close to the chair he was sitting in. Their eyes didn’t break contact once, not as she alighted a cigarette, not as he cocked his gun to point it at her. 

“I thought you were smarter than that, (y/n). There’s no way out of this for you, but it’ll certainly help my reputation when word get’s around that I was the one who killed the sunflower.” A scoff left (y/n) at the use of the name, a name she had been given years ago, a flower that would always follow the direction of the sun, always relying on the promise of money rather than love and friendship. 

“You won’t kill me, Luca. Maybe I underestimated you, you’re tougher than your cousin, I give you that. But you need me, if you want Tommy Shelby dead.” She spoke her words with a grin, a lie that rolled off her tongue all too easily. (Y/n) couldn’t remember Luca’s cousin, a man she had seemingly killed in Italy, a man she had no memory of, washed away by the things she had been forced to do as a mercenary, joining armies all over the continent, hiding her true female identity from the men who blindly trusted her, a snake amongst dogs. 

“I want him dead by six pm tomorrow, if you don’t deliver me his head I’ll kill you in front of the whole Shelby clan myself.” Her chuckles were humourless, spluttering out of her with her eyes zoning in on Luca. She could tell that he was spurred on by his fear, filling his every vein like poison. A clear advantage for a woman as ruthless as her. 

“Get out of my house while you can still walk, Changretta.” 

……

With a yawn leaving her, (y/n) stepped into The Garrison. It was still early, and yet she had expected the place to be packed with people already, those who turned towards a glass of alcohol in the morning hours to forget about the things that haunted them late at night. Yet the place was completely empty as she stepped foot into it.

(Y/n) rounded the bar to place her jacket down, she rolled her sleeves up her forearms to start her work on the dirty glasses that needed a good scrubbing. And yet she didn’t get far, eyes shooting up from the glass to find the Shelby men entering the room. She could instantly tell that something was off, forcing (y/n) to straighten her spine. 

Tommy, Arthur and John were studying her, wordlessly letting their eyes wander over her features for a few seconds. Without trying to move too much, she lifted her skirt, reaching for the gun she carried. Soundlessly she placed it down next to her, wondering how this situation would play out.

“Tell us, Mira, how do you know Luca Changretta?” Tommy took a step closer, and another. His brothers followed his every move, not taking their eyes off (y/n) once. Her tongue kissed her teeth as she studied them, weighing her options. She could easily shoot her way out, knowing that she was quicker with a gun than any other gangster she had crossed paths with, and yet she didn’t want to hurt either one of them. 

“Who?” Arthur’s eye twitched, he tried to reach for her, spurred on by anger, but Tommy’s hand stopped him from moving, keeping his emotionless composure. Her eyes kept focusing on Tommy’s features, wondering how much he knew, how much she could share without letting them in on her every secret. 

“You’re too smart for this, Mira. Is that even your real name?” A sigh left her, eyes fluttering close for a second to collect her thoughts. From the moment she had met Tommy, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t kill him, not the man whom she had always admired. 

“Whisky?” She turned from the three brothers to reach for a bottle, somewhat expecting them to shoot her. But they didn’t move, all they did was watch (y/n) pour them a glass, and one for herself. Slowly they reached for the glasses, but while John and Arthur stared at their glasses, Tommy kept studying (y/n). 

“Luca Changretta expects me to deliver your head by six pm, but I think we both know that I won’t do that.” Tommy kept quiet, seemingly pondering over her words as Arthur and John harshly put their glasses down. 

“Why would the Italians hire you?” Arthur’s question left Tommy chuckling, a sound that made (y/n) frown. He placed a cigarette between his lips, let his gun disappear, and took another step towards (y/n). With only the bar keeping them apart, she felt herself relaxing, he wouldn’t try to hurt her, but something seemed to hold him off. 

“I had my presumptions from the beginning, but you’re good, I give you that, sunflower. How did he find you?” She didn’t pay any attention to the confusion sticking to John and Arthur’s features. 

“Don’t call me that.” Her murmurs left Tommy chuckling, a sound that didn’t carry any humour, a sound that made the hairs on her arms rise. 

“You are in no position to make demands. You betrayed us, sunflower. But I guess that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Never had she felt this awful for betraying somebody, never had she felt the guilt eating her up the same way she felt it at that very moment. (Y/n) had to avert her gaze, trying to blink away the tears that blurred her vision, she desperately needed to get a grasp, this was unlike her. 

“I won’t apologise for trying to survive. If you know of me, you know that there is no way out for me, Thomas.” He almost flinched at the use of his name. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, staring at one another to ponder over their next move. 

“Leave us,” Tommy murmured the words towards his brothers. “And lock up, we’re closed for the day.” 

Arthur and John kept burning holes into her skin with fiery gazes, but (y/n) didn’t look at them once. All she did was watch Tommy as if he was a bomb about to go off, about to rip her to shreds, aching the same way her heart was now aching. The second his brothers left he Garrison, Tommy reached for his and her glass and the bottle to move towards a table. (Y/n) watched him with weary eyes, waiting for his next command. But all Tommy did was sit down, light himself a cigarette, and stare at her.

Slowly she walked towards him, gun long forgotten as if she didn’t even think of fighting the Devil himself. She drowned the shot of whisky in one go, not reacting to the biting taste she was all too used to by now. 

“You were a ghost, a story we told one another. None of us even thought of the possibility of you being a woman, hell, none of us thought that you were real. Nothing more than a story to warn us about who we could meet out there. But after that day Arthur brought you in, I asked around, I’m not as blind as my brothers, I don’t trust strangers, no matter how pretty they are. Luca Changretta may think that his men are loyal, but they all talk for the right price.” He blew his smoke out into the air as if he was preparing for her burning, watching her body end up in the flames he had alighted himself. 

“Why didn’t you kill me if you knew who I was?” She leaned towards him, it felt as if he held every needed answer in his hands, everything she had always wanted to know. Tommy Shelby was her mystery, the one to cling to, the one she would go down for, only if he’d ask her to. 

“That day I fucked you, you had your chance to kill me, but you didn’t do it. And from then on, I knew you were no threat to me, I knew I could use you to my advantage.” She grew tense as she kept staring at him. This was what she had been waiting for, a chance to work for Tommy Shelby himself. 

“I will do it, whatever it is.” His chuckles filled her with excitement, holding still as he leaned towards her just like he had that night he had fucked her on the table. She was eager to please him, eager to pull through with whatever he’d ask her to, (y/n) would gladly add a few more names to her kill list if it meant being close to Tommy Shelby.

“Of course you will. But I need to know I can trust you, sunflower.” 

“(Y/n) is my real name.” Not once had she shared her name willingly with others, knowing that giving away her personal information could mean her end. But for Tommy Shelby, she’d share it all, every little detail. 

“Marry me, (y/n), see it as an act of faith. And then you’ll help me kill Luca Changretta.” 

[chronicdisasterwrites]

alcohol isn’t for the weak gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru, shoko ieiri

genre + warnings: -underage alcohol consumption, a lot of swearing, reader slaps gojo around, pining, overall FLUFF!

word count: 3,380 (i was gonna write more but i’m lazy)

authors note: So this is the sequel of my fic “gotta keep these kids on leashes”. The dynamic quartet is back and up to no good yet again :3 There will for sure be a continuation and it just might end up being a series going through their lives. Also, this takes place before Riko and Toji, so basically their teenage days when everything was good and dandy :’)

enjoy this chaos <3

“You absolute, fucking lightweight.”

With tired bones, eyes, soul and mind, Geto’s glare remains steadily fixed on the drunken mess sprawled on the ground before him. Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world; the first person in 400 years to possess both Limitless and the Six Eyes, his strength knew no bounds - except when it came to alcohol.

“Suuuguruuu~” Gojo slurred along with several incoherent words mushed in between giggles.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Geto leaned his head against his ajar door and shut his eyes, thinking of all the incredibly painful ways by which he could murder and then dispose of his best friend’s wasted body. His anger wasn’t uncalled for, of course. It was a long day for Geto and all he wanted to do after spending an entire day killing one particularly difficult curse followed by a couple extra (albeit easier to defeat) surprise curses was take a nice long shower, go into his dorm and sleep like a corpse. He had a feeling it was too good to be true when he didn’t get 30 calls from Gojo by the time the sun had set and he had stepped into campus. He was even more surprised when he got out of the shower and came back to 0 notifications from the “pain in everyone’s ass” sorcerer. Gojo always knew when Geto had missions, and more so he would always know when Geto would be gone for the entire day. On days such as this one, he would usually go and bother literally anyone else he could find around him; when desperate, Yaga, but that would never end well for him, so that would only be reserved for very special occasions.

“Satoru, just why…” Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering what he did to deserve this torture.

“I had soooo much fun t’dayyy,” Gojo slurs and laughs much too loudly considering the time.

“Les go out, the night is youuung like you and me and Mochi and Shoko- but…” He pauses, sits up then looks directly at Geto, suddenly serious. Geto squints, expecting something stupid as per usual.

“...Not like…” Cracks appear on his half-assed poker face and the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as his lips twitch. “Not like…Yaga AHHAAHA-”

Laughter explodes from his chest as he falls back on the ground, rolling around clutching his stomach as if he just cracked the world’s funniest joke. Geto on the other hand, was not phased. In fact, he was preparing to be violent. Inhaling and then exhaling deeply, Geto stood straighter, thinking of ways he could make this night go his way. A few weeks prior to this moment in the present, Gojo along with his posse played an almost funny practical joke on Geto, which ended up costing him a date with a girl and 10 of his brain cells. Since then, Geto had been pondering day and night on exactly what he could do to get Gojo back. There were a few weaknesses the strongest sorcerer had which Geto knew of. One being, his obvious lack of alcohol tolerance, and two being his stupidly obvious crush on you. (not Shoko, although he definitely finds her hot).

Geto knows all about Gojo’s embarrassing feelings for you but he still has no solid evidence on whether the feelings are reciprocated or not.

Suddenly, his train of thought comes to a stop as his eyes glint with mischief. He grabs Gojo’s arm and starts to drag him along the hallway. Gojo doesn't even bother standing up to walk. Instead he lets his best friend drag him like a sack of potatoes, with no care in the world as to where he might be taking him.

“What the heck?! Suguru?! Where are we goin-”

They stop and Geto aggressively knocks on a door. Freshly painted, different from the rest. Immediately, he drops Gojo’s arm and sprints back to his dorm before Gojo’s little brain could even begin to process what had happened.

“Satoru…what the fuck?”

You rub your eyes and glare at the drunken mess sprawled before your dorm door and rub your eyes again, hoping he’d disappear the next time you look. He doesn’t. And you actually hear a mechanical click in your brain when the idiot starts grinning as if it wasn’t 3am and he didn’t just ruin your perfect slumber. Yet again.

“Mochi!!! You’re here! I missed yo- HEY! OUCH! WHY- STOP HITTIN ME-”

“I SHOULD KILL YOU-” slap

“IDIOT,” slap

“WHY CAN’T YOU EVER LET ME SLEEP IN PEACE?!” slap

You wanted to throttle him. But you figured 3 slaps were enough for now. You honestly felt kind of bad seeing him curled up in a ball on the floor and you worried whether you went too far or not.

“I’m sorry… I just missed you s’all,” His voice was soft, gentle even, and that made you feel even worse. Your shoulders slump and your head drops as an exasperated sigh escapes your mouth.

Why is he like this?

You crouch next to his curled up form and stare at his disheveled silver hair. He doesn’t look at you, in fact his eyes remain closed. His hands cover his ears and he literally looks like a kicked puppy and you feel so awful. You roll your eyes and sigh.

Ugh, damn him.

“Okay. Satoru, I’m sorry for hitting you.”

He doesn’t move.

You pinch your nose bridge and decide to take the high road. He is drunk after all, you think. Reaching out, you run your fingers through his soft hair. His shoulders relax at that and the corner of his mouth quirks up ever so slightly. You stifle a laugh at his childishness and grab his chin, tilting his head to face you. Finally, he opens his eyes and stares at you as a gradual, natural smile slowly takes over his face. You smile back and at the back of your mind, you think how stupid you two must look right now. In the middle of the night, your dorm door wide open, Satoru sprawled on the floor of the hallway, you crouched near his head while the two of you stared at each other like something straight out of Spiderman. Except, you won’t kiss him. That’s never going to happen.

You let go of his chin and flick his nose. He huffs a short laugh, rubbing the spot and attempting to return the favor. You grab his wrist before he could deliver the blow and say, “You still drunk?”

Satoru hums, eyes shiny, “A little?”

He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, snorting as you glare at him.

“Y’know… you don’t look as scary with your face like this,” He emphasizes his point with ‘awww’s’ and ‘you’re so cuteee’s’ and you can’t help but laugh at this blatant humiliation. You move his hand away and stand up, holding out your hand and expecting him to take it.

“Alright, c’mon. Get up.”

Satoru groans much too loudly and proceeds to throw his arms down and stretch his legs like a starfish.

“Noooo, just stay w’ meee,” He whines like a petulant child and you smile.

Damn him.

You consider bringing him into your dorm and spending the entire night with him doing nothing. Maybe talking, laughing. But you quickly discard that horrifying thought. He’s Gojo Satoru. Your best friend. Nothing romantic could ever happen between you two because he is Gojo Satoru and you are nobody. He is the one person who could even come close to changing the world. He holds the balance of the universe in the palm of his hands. He is everything, and you hate that. You hate how much he means to you, and you hate how much he has on his shoulders. You hate the fact that you can’t even help him ease those worries. You might be strong, but you’re not nearly as strong as him. He knows it, everyone knows it. So, you ignore these feelings. You bury any semblance of hope, of potential ‘maybe’s’ and ‘what if’s’ and you keep your guard up. After all, he is your best friend and you’re his. That’s it.

But then, why does he keep looking at me like this?

“Mochi?” He mutters, eyes suddenly clear and gaze fixed at you. You hum. He waits a while without saying anything and then sits up cross-legged and holds his hand out. You ponder for a moment and eventually you hold his hand and he attempts to pull himself up with your help. You steady your feet and help him up and… wow, he’s ridiculously tall.

You clear your throat and let go of his hand, to which he makes a little noise of protest. You roll your eyes and put his arm around your shoulder, ushering him towards his dorm, “Alright Satoru, let’s put you to bed.”

He nods his head one too many times and starts to walk with you, slowly but surely. You held onto him as he held onto you, and you walked at his pace. He smelled nothing like he usually did. The pungent odor of sake wafted off him in waves and it almost made you want to throw up. He was dozing off, eyes almost shutting. Those cerulean blues were almost a shiny navy color now. You wonder what made him want to drink so much tonight. So you asked.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?” He looks down at you and musters a tiny smile. You hold his waist a little tighter.

You rephrase the sentence a few times in your head before asking.

“Why’d you drink so much tonight? Is everything okay?”

He stares at you for a while, then purses his lips and tips his head down, exhaling loudly. You know something happened, but you don’t know what it could be. Satoru was always an enigma. He was always an open book, and yet so mysterious at the same time. He always kept a smile on his face and always did the stupidest shit. Yet sometimes, he would change completely. His eyes would look sad and distant, he wouldn’t talk as much, he’d look out the window like some kind of tortured main character in an indie movie. Satoru was never easy to understand. He has his vices.

Finally, he looks at you with hazy eyes and a soft smile. Using the arm slung over your shoulder, he holds you in a headlock and kisses your forehead. You can’t see your face but you can feel just how red it must have become. You struggle to try to get out of the headlock but to no avail. Even when drunk, Satoru was still stronger than you and you hated that with a passion. He laughs and releases you, returning his arm back over your shoulder as he leans against you, basically using you as a crutch to walk.

“Satoru?! What the fuck was that all about?!” You sputter. Angry? Not really, it was nice. You’re more confused and freaked out, and why do you feel drunk when you’re the one who’s completely sober?

“No reason, you’re just cute s’all,” He giggles and ruffles your hair. You glare at his stupid face and he laughs again.

“Plus, I had nothing to do all day. Suguru was gone, you were busy and Shoko was-” He pauses. “Well, wherever she was.”

You sigh and pick up your pace which makes Satoru look like Bambi trying to walk on ice for the first time. He giggles all the way there.

—

Fucking finally…

You open the door to his dorm while dragging Satoru’s half limp body inside.

“Alrighty, now lie down,” You say as you gracefully lay him down (more like unceremoniously drop him) on his bed and take his shoes off. Satoru groans and proceeds to almost slip off the side of the bed. Thankfully, you noticed and pushed him further away and more towards the center of the bed. You leave his clothes alone and stand up straight, turning to leave.

“No, wait,” His hand grabs your wrist, without any force whatsoever and you think you’re going to straight up melt when you turn back around to see him looking up at you with ridiculously childlike eyes it’s not even fair.

“Stay, please.”

Your breath hitches and you know you have to leave. You have to wake up early in the morning and also you are not going to spend a night with Gojo Satoru while he’s drunk. It's not a matter of safety; you know he would die before ever hurting you. It was more a matter of heart.

“Satoru…” You try to wrench your hand free from his grasp.

He lowers his hand and wraps it around your fingers. His voice is quiet as he says, “A lil’ bit. ‘M sorry…”

You quirk an eyebrow in confusion, “For what?”

Your question is met with only snores. You shove him and call his name to which he opens his eyes with a “huh?”.

“What are you sorry for?”

He looks bewildered, “Oh um…”

You wait.

He continues sleepily, “For ruining your sleep.”

You chuckle as his hand slowly falls to the bed and snores fill the emptiness.

“Idiot.”

You pat his head and leave.

—-

Satoru wakes up very cold. And wet. Not in a good way.

“Woah- what the fu-”

“Rise and shine, princess,” Suguru announces with a shit-eating grin on his pretty face. He keeps the empty glass on Satoru’s side table and crosses his arms.

Satoru rubs his drenched face and stares incredulously at his so-called best friend, confusion etching his hungover face, “What the hell was that for?”

Suguru snickers, “It was for ruining my sleep last night.” He sits on Satoru’s bed and crosses his legs, resting his head on his hand, enjoying Satoru’s discomfort.

Satoru groans and puts his pillow on his face. His muffled voice says something Suguru makes out to be, “My head is killing me.”

“Not surprised, you were completely wasted.”

Satoru moves the pillow and glares at Suguru, to which he only receives a grin.

Suguru asks liltingly, “So? What happened last night?”

Satoru gets up and makes his way to his bathroom, the sound of water and teeth brushing resonating around the room. Suguru waits for a reply that doesn't come.

Impatient, he asks again, “Did you get your ass kicked?” Satoru gets out while putting on a new uniform jacket. He glares at Suguru until realization hits.

His eyes widen and he points a finger and exclaims, “You took me to her room?!”

Suguru processed that light bulb moment with wide eyes and burst into a hearty laughter to which Satoru only gaped mouth open and eyes unbelieving.

“You- you didn't remember how you got there but you remembered being there?” More laughter, louder this time.

Satoru scoffs and picks up his sunglasses, “I can't believe you…”

Suguru’s laughter dies down and he receives a slap on the back of his head for his incompetence. He laughs and rubs the site of injury.

As Satoru makes his way out of the dorm, Suguru follows close behind. He asks with genuine curiosity, “Did you confess?”

Nothing.

“Did she confess?”

Silence, except for the birds chirping cheerfully and the metronomic footfalls of the two boys.

Suguru sighs, “Did anything happen?”

Satoru puts on his sunglasses and shoves his hands in his pockets, “Nothing happened, as far as I remember.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow. Satoru rolls his eyes and says in a low voice, “Anyways, I'd remember if anything happened.”

Suguru smiles and ruffles Satoru’s already disheveled hair. He scoffs but laughs when Suguru laughs at his lovesick state of being.

“Forget it, Suguru. It’s never gonna happen,” Satoru mutters dejectedly, kicking a stone. Suguru stays silent.

“Like, she’s so… just- y’know?” His sparkling sapphire eyes glittering with admiration and so much love, Suguru can’t help but smile at his friend’s hopefulness. He continues rambling incoherently, hands waving around like it actually does anything to explain his feelings for her. In reality, nothing Satoru is saying makes any sense. Or more so, it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. Suguru, on the other hand, understands Satoru. So no words are required.

—-

“He’s such an idiot.”

You sigh and twirl your pen, “Tell me about it…”

Shoko knows all and sees all. She knows all about Gojo’s stupid crush on you and she knows all about your crush on him. She doesn’t approve of it, because she firmly believes you deserve better and Gojo is an immature idiot. But after countless sleepless nights of talking about life and love, she saw just how much you liked him, despite your lackluster denials to her allegations. You were adamant on hiding your feelings, even with Shoko. You don’t know why exactly you lied to her about this. Probably because it seems too out of reach, or maybe because you know she’d disapprove. But you know Shoko loves you with all her heart. She would support any decision you make, no matter how much she hates it. Your happiness is paramount and she will never make you feel less than or stupid for anything you tell her. You just can’t tell her about your crush yet, because it’s just too embarrassing and you can’t deal with Shoko’s side-eye.

Shoko closes the book she was reading staring at, kicks up her feet on the desk and crosses her arms across her chest. You look at her, then look at her neglected textbook and sigh, shifting your attention to your own textbook.

“Y’know you’ll never even pass at the rate at which you’re going…”

She says with a giggle, “Relax, will you? It’s just class tests.”

You muster your best side eye, to which she just snorts. She kicks back her chair and stands up, holding out her hand for you to take. You raise your eyebrows, silently questioning whether she’s serious or not.

“C’mon let’s take a break, we’ve been studying for hours.”

You put down your pen and cross your arms, properly facing her now, “You mean, I’ve been studying for hours.”

She shrugs, “That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan.

She actually laughs and tugs your sleeve, “Come onnnn.”

You sigh and hang your head. Shoko takes that as a sign to collect your items and pack them into your backpack and you know you’ve lost. You always lose to her arguments. She’s too quick and too laid back to ever lose an argument. Even when something really serious goes down, Shoko will be the last person to freak out. You can’t even argue with her because she’ll just come up with some random logic that you don’t even know how to counteract. You watch as she packs your stuff and you smile. She looks at you and smiles back, albeit in a confused manner.

“What?”

You shrug still smiling, “Nothin’.”

Shoko mutters a small “okay” and grabs your shoulders, hunching down to your eye-level and staring into your eyes with a kind of scary expression. Shoko has never been serious in her entire life, except for a few times when you made bad decisions.

“Listen to me, and listen well. I love you. I will always be here for you. Even if you and Gojo date and that doesn’t work out, you don’t have to worry about us, ever,” Shoko’s grip on your shoulders was ironclad.

Your eyes widen and face heats up furiously, “W-what? Where is this coming from?!”

“Because I am your best friend, you absolute braindead idiot! I know you. I don’t know why you’re not just coming clean with me but I’m here always, so come to me whenever,” she ends her monologue with a sweeter than sweet smile and stands up to her full height while you were down there stunned, touched and offended all at once.

You get up, put your bag over your shoulder and stare at Shoko concerningly, while she just grins.

What the actual fuck was that?

“Hey, let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”

You glare at her as she loops her arms through yours, “You’re paying.”

Shoko laughs, “No way. Gojo’s paying.”

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789

[abibliophobiaa]

the boy is mine (luna’s edition)

i was tagged in @carolmunson’s blurb challenge, and here’s my fluffy little submission. i encourage everyone to join in, and you can find the guidelines here.

summary: an evening in at the trailer park with your boyfriend eddie munson. established relationship, eddie munson x f!reader. little suggestive, but no smut. just fluffy sweetness (1k words)

——

It’s your favorite time of the day. When the sun starts to set across the sky. Pinks, purples, oranges and reds casting light against the new trailer you and Eddie purchased, spilling in through the billowing curtains in the living room. Eddie’s there on the couch, with a cozy cream knitted blanket over his thighs, one of his crew sock covered feet you bought him just last week poking out at the end.

He’s perfectly sun-kissed after a day spent walking in the park together after running errands, your hand in his, both of you simply basking in the springy Saturday sun. Dark hair spills out of a messy ponytail, curly strands tickling his shoulders and cheeks, though it seems he’s too invested in whatever he’s scribbling in his small notebook to care.

Its contents? You’re uncertain, but he’s been working for the past hour as you finished cleaning up an early dinner. Take out pizza, since neither of you were keen on cooking tonight, instead wanting to curl up together with a movie on the couch for a loved up night in. Said movie is calling your name as you drape your dish towel around the refrigerator handle, making sure to pluck two bottles of beer from within.

“Popcorn?” You call out, smiling to yourself when Eddie jumps a little on the couch, head lifting as those umber eyes meet yours.

“Sure, babe,” he says, smiling softly, “I’m almost done.”

“No rush,” you tell him, moving over to a cabinet to pull out a bowl, and a bag of M&Ms. “Candy?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

A laugh bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head, opening the microwave to grab the popped treat. “Today was perfect, huh?”

You smile to yourself as he hums in agreement, pouring the popcorn into the plastic bowl. Both are placed down onto your coffee table as you slip into the living area, your knee taking up residence to the left of one of Eddie’s hips, before the other joins on the other side, straddling the man.

“Whatcha writing?” you ask, trying to peer down at the notebook, just as he slams it shut.

Eddie tosses it behind him on the windowsill, head shaking, eyes a little wide and a little breathless at the suddenness of your arrival on his lap. “That’s private.”

You pout. “Private? From the woman you live with? Love with all your heart, soul, and might?”

“Hey,” he chuckles, thumb pressing beneath your bottom lip, wiggling it playfully, “none of that. You know I love you, but some things are personal.”

“Is that what you called shitting while I was in the shower the other da —”

“That was an emergency,” he clarifies, and you snort. Sobering, he adds, “It’s just — not ready yet.”

Fingers thumb at your thighs, shifting upward the sundress draped over his thighs now. Those dark eyes linger on your face, his free hand coming up to brush along your cheek, dragging your face down to meet his, your foreheads brushing. Every breath from his lungs puffs against your bottom lip, that tantalizing feeling of need you don’t think you’ll ever get used to with him making your insides liquify. Then again, it’s always been this way with him. A sense of peace and quiet in your soul. Of home, with his arms as your walls and his heart as a safe place to land.

“It’s a song…if you must know,” he says slowly against your lips, a dimple popping in his cheek, “about a major pain in my ass.”

“You should get that checked out,” you muse, heart pitter-pattering away at the notion he’s written a song about you, “might be serious.”

“It’s a permanent condition,” he sighs dramatically, though it’s tinged with a joyous laugh, “the only cure is constant exposure.”

“Your doctor needs to get their license revoked,” you tease, breaking off with a sigh in the back of your throat as he leans forward and kisses you deeply. Grapples at your hips and rolls you over him, swallowing the moan that bubbles in your throat at the feeling of him already hardening beneath you. “If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem.”

He grins up at you, finger pushing at the strap of your dress until it falls down one shoulder. Eddie leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to the bare skin there.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Distracting me!” You shove at him playfully, wiggling on his lap as deft fingers tickle at your sides, drawing you closer to his frame. A contented exhale spills from you, body leaning into his chest, letting his arms fold you in against a broad chest.

“You really wanna hear it?” he asks at the crown of your head, fingers tangling with yours in your lap.

“Please?”

“It’s rough,” he warns, reaching behind him to grasp the small notebook. “It’s also…not our normal style, so you better not tell the guys.”

You gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth. “Did Eddie Munson write me a love song?”

“Quit it or I won’t play it for you,” he snarks, but there’s no bite there, only love. Always love. So much so, you’re always overflowing with it. “Sit over there — yeah — okay.”

You drop down against the pillows piled high in the corner of your couch, the knitted blanket drawn up and over your thighs. And as the sun continues to set over Hawkins, you watch as the man who holds your heart pulls over his acoustic guitar, flipping the pages of his notebook to where he left off.

Sings in his smoky voice of a girl with sunshine in her hair and the stars in her eyes, of a girl who he calls home, the one his soul longs for, the person he finds rest in. His love.

With your heart in your throat and tears swimming in your eyes, you blurt out a broken, “I love you.”

He tugs you close, his heartbeat under your ear as he whispers back, “I love you most.”

——

[acaaai-t]

thinking about…

stranger! xiao whom you encountered through a unexpected bank robbery one sunny afternoon. It definitely was love at first sight for you, especially after he had tackled you— a mere stranger to him at the moment— down to shield you from the stray bullets being fired. It was chaos amidst the environment, but all you could think about was how close he was to you… archons he’s pretty.

stranger! xiao whom you practically had to chase after after the entire ordeal just to get his contact information. He had first denied your approach, but you just seemed far too determined to give up so easily. “Sir please,” you begged. “You quite literally saved my life back there, the least I can do is repay you with something.” … “Fine.”

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！

companion! xiao who has a grumpy face on at all times no matter the situation. You had invited him out for lunch as a way to thank him for his heroic act couple days ago, and this would be your chance to properly introduce yourself to him. The weather was near perfect today with the temperature hanging around in the low 70’s (20°C) and the skies cleared of clouds. His intimidating expression was also enough to make you nervous, but you pushed through. “Hi! My name is [name], what’s yours?” … “… Xiao.”

companion! xiao who you took out on a little amusement park hangout on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon. You hadn’t been to one in forever, and considering the fact that both of you had nothing better to do today, you dragged Xiao out with you.

companion! xiao who went near deaf after agreeing to go on a rollercoaster with you— which was a poor choice. The ride was exhilarating, but if you hadn’t been screaming bloody murder throughout the entire ride, it might’ve been a better experience. “I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, hands clasped together in a praying motion. Xiao didn’t say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As an add-on to your apology, you treated him to a plate of almond tofu. Yeah no, he forgives you.

companion! xiao who gets an unwanted feeling of annoyance when he sees you occupied with someone else other than him. A stranger had stopped you to ask for direction to the nearest bathroom, and being the kind hearted soul you are, pointed to the map and gave the path to his destination. Too close, he thought. What? Why was he feeling like this? Is this what people called jealousy?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！

Xiao is in denial. He’s only known you for a month or two now, and feelings are beginning to worm its way into his heart. Unwarranted feelings that he wants no part of— yet it’s constantly in the back of his mind. You’re always on his mind. He can’t get you out, no matter what.

Your smile, your laugh, your mesmerizing beauty…

Archons, what is he meant to do now?

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！

lover! xiao who wrestled with his feelings for weeks on end before finally caving in to it. You were blabbering on about some drama unfolding at your workplace at a cafe he’d invited you out to when all of a sudden he stopped you. He couldn’t even pay attention to your words, for all he could do was stare at your lips moving. “Is there something wrong with my face?” you asked, fingers dragging across your cheeks. Xiao was quick to answer, giving a hasty ‘no’.

lover! xiao who kept stuttering his words when confessing his feelings to you. The sun had begun to set, and you had brought him to a secluded area of the woods, where there was a near perfect view of the sunset. Your heart was pounding so heavily against your chest— it felt like it could burst out at any moment. Although Xiao looked more of a hot mess than you did; his face crimson red.

“I.. I like— archons. Oh fuck it [name] I like you. Not as in just friends if you understand, you know what I mean right? No, it’s totally okay if you don’t like me back like—”

lover! xiao who you had to shut up with a kiss to his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. He seemed to had to take a moment to register what had just happened, and when it did finally process, he kissed back— hard. Is he dreaming?

just lover! xiao being the epitome of you fell first but he fell harder.

— ༉‧₊˚ 🐈‍⬛ ༉‧₊˚. . 。！！！！

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— more xiao content coming soon

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[chlorinecake]

i need (politely) more fics like the one with wonbin where they fuck while being high, yk? with whoever you want, i’m down for everything. i need it for my soul and for my well being LOVE U CHLOE

grapefruit diet | s. es

𓂋 stoner boyfriend!eunseok x fem!reader, body image themes, pda, some car action (ykyk), giggly high sex with a mix of praise and body worship, lots of kissing and swearing as always, 3.7k wc

author’s note 𓂋 this is part of my unofficial Euphoria x Riize series where each member is assigned a song from the show and a stoner trope, so feel free to comment who you’d like to see next!

“BABE, WE JUST bought a two-pound bag of grapefruits last week… there’s no way you’re out of ‘em already,” Eunseok said from behind you, voice low and a bit gravelly from his lengthy smoke session earlier.

You could never smell the herb in his clothes, but it usually lingered in his breath for a bit, making you crave a few blows yourself just from kissing him.

Cravings… the word meddled in your mind for a moment until you realized Eunseok was still waiting on your reply.

“I’ve been having one for every meal, though, so I’ll need more for next week…” you replied, sentence coming out more like a mumble towards the end as you leaned down to examine the fruit before you, trying to find the perfect bag.

Perfectionism… another word you aspired to mirror someday, despite how much it pained you.

“Are you on some sort of diet I should know about?”

It’s no secret that you struggle with body image from time to time, and Eunseok’s always been concerned for your health, taking mental notes and observations on both your behavioral and physical changes.

He’d never say anything to your face, though.

He’s respectful enough to keep his thoughts concerning you to himself...

“One you should know about? Not exactly… but I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results if I stay on tract this time…” you smiled softly, tossing the bag of grapefruit in the shopping cart and taking a few steps away.

The sound of the basket’s slightly rusted wheel’s squeaked behind you as Eunseok followed your short path.

“I won’t say anything against your choice because I trust you’ll be careful, but just know that I’m in love with you either way, ____.”

You suddenly went quiet on him, feeling your breathing pattern change from his choice of words.

Trust… Careful… Love...

“Either wayyy, alright?” He pressed, looking into your eyes for confirmation before giving your shoulder a playful shake and placing a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m in love with you too, baby,” you said, wiping his kiss off with your thumb and dragging it across his lower lip, eyes meeting his intensely, “sort of.”

“Cute,” Eunseok smiled, pretty teeth coming into view with his laughter before he gripped the shopping cart handle and tilted his head at you, “Now get in, will ya?”

Letting out a sigh and playfully rolling your eyes, you climbed into the shopping basket, sitting against the back end so you could face him as he pushed you around the grocery aisles.

You two were always that one couple who proudly displayed affection for each other in public.

Whether that be with his hand tucked into your back jean pocket while strolling through the library, or baby-talking to each other while hugging outside his workplace, you two had to be touching... one way or another.

And these clingy tendencies were only amplified whenever you two were buzzed...

Your fingers grazed over his knuckles as he pushed the basket, peppering them with kisses as he looked down at you, moving the hand that wasn't occupied by your lips to pat your head slightly.

“Want anything else before we go? You know how we can sometimes get the munchies after smoking,” Eunseok started, eyes now scanning over the aisle signs as he continued walking at a steady pace.

Humming tiredly at his proposal, you thought in your mind how badly you'd been wanting to sink your teeth into something that wasn't another bitter grapefruit or the flesh of Eunseok's wrist while cuddling in bed.

But you were so proud of yourself for staying committed to your diet over the past week... you don't get why you decided to smoke with him earlier, knowing that it'd only make it harder for you to control your now salivating tongue.

“Ranch-style chicken sub with bacon, lettuce, and tomato,” your boyfriend read from the label of a tightly wrapped deli item, “looks good to me.”

“You know I won’t eat all of that, Eunseok,” you replied, hands now sitting in your lap as you fidgeted with your chipped nail polish.

Why was he even tempting you right now?

He knows how important it is to you to stay in shape-

“Then we'll split it... and if I'm still hungry, I'll eat whatever you leave behind,” he said, interrupting your thoughts while grabbing a bag of Cheetoes from the nearby chip rack, “deal?”

Your stomach grumbled, the pain in your head started to throb and you couldn't tell if it was because of the weed or your hunger.

Reaching from the basket, you gently took the wrapped sub from his grasp, turning it over to analyze the nutritional facts label, reading 560 calories, 24g fat, 51g carbs, and 38g protein.

It was definitely a lot more calorie-dense than the usual half a grapefruit you ate for lunch every day, but it would definitely stop you from feeling nauseous right now.

Besides, you knew he wouldn't let you say no, and he was nice enough to agree to split it instead of buying you a whole one, “Fine.”

SITTING IN THE passenger seat of Eunseok's car, he passed you a water bottle to help wash your food down, happy in your heart that you decided to go ahead and eat with him even though he bought a whole sub for himself yet still ate the rest of what you didn’t want like he promised.

You were now just a few minutes from home, a Dean song playing faintly in the background as you couldn't get over how hot your boyfriend looked while driving.

“You're staring at me,” he started, eyes training on the road ahead as the red light switched to green, “why?”

“Because we decided to smoke pot together instead of fucking like we really wanted to,” you answered shamelessly, feeling warm in your stomach now that you'd actually said it.

“Just got your energy back, and you're already thinking of ways to use it all up again,” he replied, driving with only one hand on the steering wheel as he relaxed into a manspreading position in his seat, knowing that it'd only drive you crazy.

You couldn't believe this guy, not sure if his comment was one of rejection or an invitation, but you just took it as the later.

Looking in the glove department, you pulled out a sleek box mod, only to put it back once you noticed it wasn't fully charged.

You instead reached for the fresh blunt that was stuffed in your bra from earlier, heating it with your hot pink pocket lighter before guiding it to your lips and giving it an inhale.

“What's the point of saving energy anyway if we're just gonna be boring with it?,” you offered, watching him glance at you through the corner of his eye before you guided the blunt to his lips as he kept driving.

Gently holding his face in place, you let him inhale a puff of his own, cloudy smoke swiveling in pretty shapes around you both before dissolving in the air around his lips.

“Thanks, princess,” he said in a now low voice, the sound of the ignition ascending over the music as he sped along the highway, “now sit back down and put your seatbelt on…”

There he goes again… telling you what to do like he always did.

Leaning away from him, you sat back down properly this time, reaching for your seatbelt and fastening it with a subtle click, “You’re bossy as hell, y’know that?”

“Yup. And disobeying me seems to be a great motivator for you,” he went on, letting out a breath as he felt your eyes on his lap, your hands creeping closer to him, “don’t touch me while I’m driving.”

“I was only looking—”

“I’m serious, ____,” he interrupted your sentence, voice sounding like a mix of strained and stern emotions.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat with a swallow… he always had a habit of doing that whenever he was turned on…

Your dry lips met the joint once again, letting it's fumes fill your chest with another fast-inducing hit of whatever psychedelic mix Eunseok initially rolled it with a few hours ago.

With this, you decided to take your chance, creeping a finger up his thigh closest to you and letting your hand massage into his bulge.

The car suddenly jolted forward, his foot having slammed on the breaks at your actions, “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Maybe a little,” you replied seductively, now unbuckling his belt and zipping down his pants, “just keep your eyes on the road and let me please you…”

He let out a sigh at your words, followed by a hiss as your hand returned to stroking him through his boxers, a small smile poking at the corner of your lips at the feeling of him hardening beneath your touch.

His free hand took to blunt from your idle grasp, giving it another long puff before placing it down to sizzle out on the dashboard.

“Fine… but since you really wanna play that game, don’t keep me waiting,” he said with a heavy voice, hand finding your head in an almost petting manner as you leaned over the seat, face hovering over where he wanted you most.

But you had no intention of using your mouth for him, wanting to make him crave you even more to the point where he’d have no other choice but to fuck you once you two got home…

By now, the music in the background was drowned out by the sound of faint groans thrumming from his mouth, eyes falling lazy as it became harder for him to concentrate on the road with the way you were stroking him.

You let a wad of spit dribble from your lips and onto his tip, his dick twitching a bit in your hand at the sudden feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a raspy voice as your grip around him intensified with your speed, “your hands are so cold…”

You almost couldn’t hide the giggle that came out of you at his words, “Well I’m not using my mouth, so get over it…”

“Why not, pretty? Don’t feel like swallowing?,” he teased, gripping a handful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him, a weak whine stuck in your dry throat.

“It’s not that,” you whispered weakly, dragging out the strokes of your hand around his dick while looking into his glossy eyes, “I just know that you won’t kiss me afterwards if I suck you off...”

He let out an amused snicker, his next sentence being broken off by the feeling of your spit coating his tip once again.

As good as your hand felt wrapped around him right now, he couldn’t help but crave the warmth of your pussy, slamming his foot on the gas to get you both home sooner.

Besides, he’d had enough of your teasing, and it was only getting harder for him to hold back the longer he sat there, hands bound either to the steering wheel or the nape of your neck.

So lost in the pleasure, you're not sure if he even noticed it when your free hand slipped between your legs, teasing the throbbing ache growing at your core.

It didn't take long for you two to arrive, Eunseok trying his best to still park the car in the driveway neatly, despite how he'd just did pot a few minutes ago with your needy hands never ceasing to pump him...

He gave you a non-verbal cue to stop touching him by gently guiding your shoulder away from him.

He fought his hardest to hide the way his thighs were trembling, even though it was obvious all over his flushed face how needy you were making him feel.

You crawled even closer to him, letting the weight of your hand push into his thigh as you braced yourself to meet his lips in a desperate kiss, “I'm so nice for not making you cum all in your pants, huh?”

“Not like you wouldn't have cleaned me up anyways,” he replied with almost mumbled words, the mix of weed and lust in his system right now making him feel dizzy.

That's when you saw his hand reach into the glove department, pulling out a pack of baby wipes and handing you one, “For your hand...”

It was funny how meticulous he could be with staying neat sometimes. Almost as meticulous as you could be when it came to your appearance.

“My hand's are fine, Eunseok, I just jerked you off,” you said, holding the wipe in your palm until he took your hand by the wrist, wiping each individual finger for you.

“The other hand, please,” he continued, your arm obediently giving him your hand to wipe the slick spread all over your fingers, “can't believe you couldn't wait for me to please you, ____... did your pathetic little fingers feel any good?”

“Not as good as yours,” you smirked, crawling backwards and out of the car, both of your movements rushed yet lazy as you made it to the front door together, wrapping yourself around your boyfriend's arm.

“Just try not to fall over because I'm not sure I'll be able to catch you right now,” he teased, twisting the front door knob with one hand as his tingly arm tried bracing you with the other.

Neither of you are sure if it was the free slick meddling between both your legs or the burnt weed coursing through your bloodstream making you feel more dizzy.

Eunseok gave the house a quick scan in his mind as he tried contemplating on the safest place for you high fools to have a quick fuck, his head tilting toward the ceiling with closed eyes.

He could hear you lock the front door from behind him, humming at the proceeding feeling of you sliding his jacket from his shoulders and hanging it on the wall rack.

“God, you're in such a hurry today, baby, gimme a sec,” he chuckled, watching as you started to work on taking his belt off, using the buckle to hold him in place as your lips met his.

Thirsty, yet somehow sloppily.

“You've kept me waiting long enough already,” you exhaled breathlessly, palming him through his jeans as you felt his teeth barely snug at your lower lip, his cold grip finding your warm waist.

“Just settle down, mhm?” he growled lowly with a sly look on his sharp feature, “daddy's gonna take good care of you...”

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully smacking him on the chest before your scoffs turned into yelps, his arms lifting you from the ground and wrapping your legs around him.

“Eun- Eunseok, you kinky bastard, r-release me!,” you squirmed, watching over his shoulder as you suddenly made it from the front door to your shared bedroom.

He plopped you on the mattress, letting out one of the most attractive sighs you'd ever heard before guiding your hands back to his belt buckle.

“Finish taking it off for me, and I might forgive you for calling me a name...”

You looked at him with baby-doll eyes, which were painfully stained a light shade of red from the weed you smoked earlier, “Sorry,” you said sarcastically softly, leaning forward to free the leather belt from his hips with your hands, “You know I was only messing with you... daddy...”

All he did was stroke your hair in response, the shadow of a smile on his face at your sense of humor.

In a strange way, your playful demeanor only turned him on even more, and he simply couldn't get over how pretty you looked from this angle.

Hair slightly disheveled, your once sharp black eyeliner smudged into a grey blur over your eyelids, and your lips a bit more plush than usual from his teeth nipping at them...

What Eunseok was feeling right now was different from any craving he'd ever felt before... a yearning he'd only ever felt for you.

The same word that meddled relentlessly in the back of your mind, stacked at the very top of your own impossible standards for yourself was the very word on the tip of his tongue right now...

Perfection.

And you were just that in every sense of the word.

The space between you two was warm right now, the mere clothes on your back feeling a bit excessive as your hearts continued to race, despite your minds being still as stone.

“You're absolutely gorgeous,” your boyfriend nearly blurted out, making your hands halt as his sudden words.

“Stop it, Eunseok...,” your voice fell gently to an almost inaudible whisper, gaze falling down to the ground only for his loving hand to guide your chin back up to face him.

“Stop what, darling?”

You let out a breath, struggling to keep eye contact as you started to feel embarrassed, “...Trying to make me feel better about myself...”

“Baby,” he started with a sigh, sitting down beside you on the bed and stroking your slouched shoulder, “these aren't just empty words of mine... you seriously are the most beautiful girl in the world to me, and I wish you could see that, ____...”

It was almost enough to make you cry once he slowly slide you hoodie off and started peppering kisses from your wrist and up to your collarbone.

“I wish I could see that, too,” you admitted, finding comfort in the way his lips made love to you, even at the seemingly neglected areas like behind your ear, where he happily nibbled in his fit of praise.

“Then allow me to remind you how beautiful you are to me,” he whispered, turning your face to his as he finally met your lips again in a sweet embrace, which soon escalated as his tongue went to tangle with yours.

“My needy girl,” he smiled after pulling down your jeans single-handedly, his straight fingers sliding over the paper-thin panties you wore, evidently soaked with yoru slick from how long you'd been waiting for this, “you're honestly the prettiest when the only thought on your mind is my cock...”

“Wanna bet I'd look even prettier once you're actually inside me?,” you asked teasingly, not even realizing that you were slowly rutting against his fingers as he slid them over your folds.

“Oh? And where has this sudden confidence come from?”

You bunched up a bit of his shirt in your fists before pulling him back close to you, feeling even more hungry for the sensation of his mouth against yours.

“Maybe because I'm finally getting what I want,” you answered, just as a weak moan cracked from your throat when he angled your head up by the jaw with his hand, kissing down your neck desperately.

He really didn't have any more time to waste, and it only benefited his stamina even more now that the effects of the weed were starting to settle in for him...

Not fully kick in, but settle...

His warmth left your body for a moment as he stood up to take off his shirt before leaning back down, his hands groping one of your tits as he shimmied his pants the rest of the way down with his free hand, the under-side of his tongue salivating at the sight of your erect nipples.

“How blank is your mind right now?” He asked, letting his shaft slap on your clit as he slid it down to poke at your entrance.

“Just foggy,” you said with a dry swallow, feeling yourself grow even more dumb with lust as he teased your hole with just the tip.

He hummed at your words, barely thrusting his head in before your legs started to shake, “Well you can trust that I'll be careful with you unless you want me to go harder... Is that a deal, love?”

Trust… Careful… Love...

The last word you remember saying was a cheeky “Deal” in return before he pushed himself all the way in, thrusting through your tightness as you eventually warmed up to his size.

Needless to say, a bit of the herbal effects still lingered in your system as he kept rutting into your heat as if half of his mind wasn't wandering on cloud 9 right now.

His eyes blinked with flutters before sealing shut with a hum at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, waves of pleasure bouncing through both your bodies as his sweaty forehead came into contact with yours, his thrusts only getting faster and faster.

Not in a rough way, but with passion.

That was up until you kept arching your back off of the mattress, his strong hand having to push you down so he could fuck into you properly.

You always liked it whenever you two fucked after smoking... the way he'd kiss you all hot and heavy while murmuring the dirtiest of things into the crook of your neck, and the way he'd look into your eyes while high on two different chemicals, wanting nothing more but to bring you over the edge with him and fall into each other's pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you're doing so good for me- shit, feels so good, princess,” he panted on top of you, his own mind starting to mirror the fog meddling in yours, especially with the way your tits were bouncing right now.

Your body and of course everything else about you was quite literally like a wet dream to him, and if he had the choice, he'd never wanna wake up from it.

By now though, he could tell that you were way into it just from the way your breath wobbled like it waswalking along a tightrope, incoherent whimpers of yes, please, and mmm's bouncing off the bedroom walls.

He felt his hips stutter just as a loud curse escaped his mouth, his slimy thickness pulling out of you as spurts of his cum coated your throbbing pussy, feeling especially warm against your sweaty skin.

Everything in his body wanted to fuck his release back into you, but he knew it was best not to, especially with the way your body was contracting from your orgasm.

He leaned down for the last time to leave tender kisses all over your chest and face, whispering sweet I love you's into the sensual air flowing between you.

He gave both of your tired muscles a moment to calm down before rolling on his back, your chests still heaving as little sighs passed through your swollen lips, the taste of each other pretty evident on both your tongues.

“Was that worth the wait, baby?” He asked first, an obvious smile on his face once he saw you get up in his peripheral vision, legs still wobbly as you crawled over to straddle him, twitching from how sensitive you felt right now.

“Almost... but it definitely could've lasted a bit longer,” you teased, letting your hands roam over his toned abs as you slowly rocked your hips against him, letting your core coat him all over again with your wetness.

You felt his touch travel from your goosebump-stained thighs and all the way up to your lower back, where he guided you to let him back inside.

Both of your energy levels were near completely spent right now, and that was just from your first round taking him.

Even so, if there's one thing about you two as a couple, it's that your clingy tendencies only heighten whenever you're buzzed, and with the look on your faces in this moment, he didn't plan on putting that fact to rest.

“I suppose another round wouldn't hurt,” he smirked, watching as you slid down his length while biting your lip, more than ready to use the last of your energy to ride out another high...

As the narrator, I would love to end the story here, but in favor of the over-thinkers, I should clarify that you and Eunseok ended up forgetting the grapefruits in his car trunk by accident...

Not that either of you cared, though... with the way your night ended, it was totally worth the wasted three dollars and some change on a bag of bitter fruit and future hunger-pains...

🛒 personal note to the original anon: Hopefully this fic did your soul some justice :'] and TYSM for requesting this!! Apologies for taking so long to get to your ask, but either way, I think it's super sweet how much you enjoy my stoner!tropes, and I look forward to writing more for you in the near future ~

🛒 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr + the link to my riize master list ! ! !

[withonly-sweetheart]

Runoff

Right after your most recent breakup, you finally notice the guy that you know better than you know yourself.

a/n: for the anon who requested this one <333 hope u like my lovely!! the description doesn't do it justice but i hope i went along the same idea you were thinking <3 spellchecking and grammar died :))

tw: just fluff and best friend leon

wc: 2k

The sun warms your faces as you wander down the grassy path, a woven blanket and wicker basket in hand. Both of your timed footsteps are light, minds drifting on the breeze that carries faint haunts of fresh blooms through the air.

"The water looks beautiful," you say with a gesture toward the distant lake, its surface shimmering under the clear blue sky.

"It calls to the soul, this place." Leon replies, stopping to take in the quiet beauty surrounding you.

"It’s peaceful," you offer with a soft smile.

"Come on." He meets your eyes with a sly grin. "The perfect spot awaits."

You stroll a little further before coming to a strip of shore beneath an old willow's swaying branches. Laying out your blanket upon the grass, Leon begins unpacking your meal as you stretch out and relax, admiring the tranquility of the area.

“Much better than the neighborhood,” you comment, drawing a genuine laugh from him.

“That’s for sure. Aren’t you glad you came?” His voice, his question is uncharacteristically nervous, causing you to draw your wandering thoughts back in one place and look up at him.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just…” Leon sighs, dropping his hands into his lap, fidgeting with them. “Last time I asked, you said no.”

“And I told you I was out with my boyfriend,” you say gently. He doesn’t move. His fingers still and he slowly drags his gaze across your body, meeting your eyes as if for the first time. They look almost golden, slanted in the dying rays of the sun.

“How are you both, by the way?” he mumbles, not really sounding like he cares.

“We broke up a week ago.”

Even though you shouldn’t, you remember when your first boyfriend broke up with you in middle school, and Leon was there, rubbing your back in soothing circles and whispering consolations in your ear.

You suppose you’ve known him almost as long as you’ve known yourself. Finding yourself was something you couldn’t have done if it weren’t for his influence, pushing you away from what would’ve corrupted you and towards the angelic halo he wanted sitting on your head.

He protects you, and you protect him. That’s one part of your relationship.

"I always thought he cared for me, you know?" you say with a sigh. "I guess some things are just too good to be true."

Leon turns to face you, his dark eyes catching the fiery hues of the setting sun. "Don't say that. Any guy would be lucky to have your heart."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Perfect," you tease, nudging his ankle with your bare toes.

"I'm far from perfect," he says softly. A soft breeze ruffles his wavy locks, and for a moment you’re captured by the play of sunlight through his hair. How had you never noticed how beautiful he looked as the sunset lit up his features?

Shaking loose from your thoughts, you quip, "Could've fooled me. While I'm wallowing in self pity you sit there as calm as ever. Isn’t that stupid?" You nudge him again, hoping to evoke a smile - but his expression remains tender.

Leon tilts his head curiously. “No. Why would you say that?”

“I guess some part of me knew that if I didn’t have him, no one else would ever love me.”

Leon picks at the blanket, coaxing strands to peel away from the tightly woven fabric. “That part’s stupid. You’ll find the one.”

“Don’t get philosophical on me,” you tease. “I need someone to jar back to reality.”

“I’m not!” He protests, flushing. He turns back to the lake, to the ripples steadily running towards us. “He didn’t… like… after prom?”

“Leon!” You nudge him with your foot, exasperated. “He’s not that bad.”

“I know,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound like he’s convinced. “Watch the food for me?”

“Why?” The corner of your lip twitches. “Are you swimming?”

“Maybe.” Leon leans back on his palms, as if only considering this idea now, even when you know he only came here with the idea of a quick dip. 

Nothing got him relaxed like floating, weightless, drifting along in dense water, consuming his thoughts as if absorbing his troubled mind, disappearing into the abyss below. You knew that from the absurd amount of times you’d seen him at the pool.

“I know you want to.” 

His neck turns a light shade of pink. “That obvious?” 

You nudge him forward. “Just go already. It’s already getting dark.”

Leon glances toward the setting sun, gauging how much time remains in the long summer dusk. Then, with a playful grin, he rises and pulls his t-shirt over his head in one smooth motion. 

You watch, fascinated, as lithe muscles shift beneath golden skin. His shirt lands in a warm heap next to you as he stretches his arms upward, arching his back like a cat awakening. Shadows accentuate his slender form while soft rays limn each contour, making poetry of lean lines that tell of wiry strength.   

Gazing out over the waiting water, Leon takes a deep breath of anticipation. You see the subtle relaxation steal through taut limbs and tense shoulders. Then he turns, catching you looking, and laughter glints in rapt eyes before he shifts his stance back to the lake.

You settle back on your palms to watch Leon glide into the waiting water. His form cuts smoothly through the glassy surface, barely a disturbance in his wake. 

Under the fading rose glow of sunset, Leon's pale skin takes on a luminous sheen you never quite noticed before. Ripples kiss the shore as he submerges fully, rolling beneath the water, only to emerge seconds later, shaking droplets from his disheveled hair. 

You trace each bead's downward path, longing to feel their chill evaporate under searing fingers. But you stay put, watching from afar as Leon floats languidly, gazing up at the colors fading fast across the sky.

A sigh escapes you, matching the gentle swaying of reeds along the bank. You envy the placid waters bearing him, lapping coolness across his skin and easing all tensions. To have someone sink into such a soothing embrace - but your place is here, drinking in the poetry of his fluid motions beneath the dying glow of dusk.

<><><><>

“You’re not getting in my car dripping like that,” you deadpan. Leon kicks the gravel of the parking lot, outlined by the fierce sun, looking just like a guilty little boy.

“I didn’t bring a towel,” he mumbles. “Just this once?”

“I just- no!” 

“Then how do I get home?” he asks softly. 

You watch his eyes, blinking down at you, guilt steadily spreading across your expression as you switch your gaze between the boy standing in front of you and your car. 

Equally steady is the childlike grin that Leon sports while he soaks  the poor, newly refurbished passenger seat. You manage to at least throw down your picnic blanket before he sits back down, eyes narrowed at you. 

“Either this or I stuff you in my trunk,” you reply smugly. 

“No, no, it’s not that…” he says, trailing off. He shakes his head and twists to look out the window, holding his face in the middle of his palm. His shoulders are drawn back, as if protecting something.

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“That won’t work on me.”

A quiet huff. “It’s nothing.”

You pull up in your driveway but you don’t move to unlock the car. Leon's fingers freeze on the handle, terror flashing across his face. In an instant, you see all the emotions he'd kept bottled inside leak out like spilled ink. 

Your questioning gaze pins him as surely as if you'd seen through flesh to the secrets of his heart beneath. For a long moment, the only sounds are crickets replacing daylight's song outside. 

Then Leon snatches his hand back as if burned, stammering, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to–the door got stuck, that's all." 

“That might be because I locked it.” You smile and cross your arms, waiting.

After several long moments, his shoulders slump in defeat. You look at Leon steadily, at his hands still resting on the locked door. His panicked gaze darts everywhere but at you.

"Leon," you say softly. "Talk to me. Why did you grab the handle like that?" 

He swallowed hard, fingers twisting together in his lap. When he speaks, his voice is barely a murmur, like a preschooler admitting something wrong he did. "I just… wanted to get out, I guess."

You tilt your head, waiting for more. But you don’t expect a tear to slip from his eyes as he takes a wavering breath.

"Please don't make me say it," he whispers. More confused than intrigued, you rest a hand on his trembling arm, trying to ease his discomfort. When he flinches, you recoil, tilting your head as a sign for him to continue.

If it were anyone else, they would’ve missed the growing expectation spread plainly on your face. And it’s for that reason that Leon doesn’t persist. He knows there’s no use. He had to get to this point at some point.

He collapses against the seat, face crumpling. "I'm sorry, I-I have feelings for you, okay? I've tried so hard not to but I can't help it. And now you'll hate me and I've ruined everything-"

Gently, you lay a hand on his knee. "Leon. Look at me." 

Reluctantly he meets your gaze, eyes brimming with unshed tears. You give him a reassuring smile. "You don’t have to be nervous with me. You needed that, didn’t you?"

Leon shakes his head vigorously, tears escaping down his cheeks. "No, y-you don't understand. You were with him, you...you loved him." 

His voice breaks on the last word. You take his face gently between your hands, gazing intently into his watery eyes. 

"Leon, listen to me. We weren’t real. Nothing between us was real, hm?” He tries to look away but you hold him fast. "Why do you think we broke up, huh?” Your voice sounds dry with amusement but you can’t seem to make it sound any other way right now. “Because every time I was with him, all I could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, how you make me feel."

Leon lets out a soft sob, pressing his eyes closed, spindly, dew-dropped eyelashes brushing against his raised cheekbones. You press your forehead to his, wiping away a falling tear with your thumb, feeling like you’ll never need anything else. Just him.

"It's always been you, dumbass. I'm in love with you." 

Before he can protest further, you kiss him intensely, and under your lips, you feel him melt, molding into your hands. Gently, you caress his cheek again, your thumb gliding soft as a veil of rain across his trembling lips. 

His eyes flicker shut at the ghost of your fingertips on his skin. Beneath your hands' worshipful mapping, Leon's trembling fades, body loosening like the reeds sinking into the peace of the lake. 

His lips, yet tingling from your kiss's imprint, curl softly at their edges - the whisper of a private smile meant for you alone. He pulls away from you, sniffling, running a hand under his nose, chuckling softly. 

“So…” Leon’s fingers lace with yours, breathing life back into the twilight air. “Guess we’re finally figuring things out, huh?”

“Took us long enough.” You brush your hair back behind your ear, eyes glinting mischievously up at him. “Who would’ve thought all it’d take was trapping you in a car?”

Leon groans and buries his flushed face in your shoulder. “Please don’t remind me. I still look insane, don’t I?”

You tap his chin until his shy eyes meet your gaze. “You could never look anything but beautiful to me.”

“Such a charmer. No wonder I never stood a chance.” Leon’s blush deepens, crimson against the pale hues of his skin, teeth clicking together softly. He’s shivering, you realize.

“I think you’re the only one who ever stands a chance, love.” You drum his nose before grinning. “You’re cold. Come inside, I’ll get a bath started.”

And on the way inside, fingers intertwined with his, you make a promise to yourself.

Never let him go.

[mayhemscorner]

Bed Rest

Shikamaru x f!reader

🔞MINORS DNI 🔞

Warnings: soft core SMUT, swearing, injuries

Summary: a lazy hang out turns to lazy sex (just a quick smut read for on the go. Simple, goofy, with a bit of filler episode humor)

To say I was beat from the mission was an understatement. Turns out, getting slammed in to the ground by your neck really does a lot of damage. My bed at home beckoned to me, plush, soft comforter and lots of space to stretch compared to the bedroll on my back that’s been used for two weeks. It was a dream to be prescribed three days of bed rest by the doctor. But upon opening the bedroom door, I notice a lazy soul already occupying my sweet bed.

“Move over, I’m tired.” I grunt out, slamming face first in to the long forgotten pillow that rest besides Shikamaru’s head. It was common to find him napping in a random spot when I’d come back from missions, sometimes the floor, or the front porch of my house. But my bed was a new one.

“Great to see you and your smart comments are still alive.” He sighs as I can feel his weight shift closer to me, grunting in pain.

I wince as I turn my neck to focus on his bruised face, “I hear you got a nice beat down yourself, champ.”

“Doctors orders for strict bed rest, a drag I can’t go outside and watch the clouds.” He mumbles out, his eyes fluttering slowly shut. I huff a small laugh out as a pinch of pain runs through my neck,” bed rest doesn’t mean an actual bed. It just means get sleep and not get in any fights, Shikamaru. Now get out of my bed so I can get my ordered bed rest.”

I’m only answered by slow and steady breathing, signaling he was already practically asleep. Leave it to Shikamaru to put his best effort in falling asleep. I can only sigh, gathering a pillow to go crash on my own couch in defeat. A slow hand stops me from brokenly standing up,” bed rest, not couch rest. Just lay down and don’t be awkward, damnit.”

“Awkward? You’re in my bed. You’re the only one making this awkward.” I huff out, slamming the pillow against his head and falling back down beside him. He drapes an arm over my side and grumbles,” stop complaining already, if you didn’t like it you would’ve forced me out the door by now, Y/N.”

His delicately placed hand sends electric pulses through my entire body, a sensation that was almost taboo to feel about a close friend. And the anger of him being right sets in.

“Shut up and put your hand somewhere else then, you’re distracting me.” I try to chastise him, resulting in it moving upwards and cupping my breast,” not what I meant.”

He chuckles slightly, close enough to my ear that it sends a shiver against my spine,” if I really wanted to distract you I would.”

His hand kneads slightly, oddly relieving other pains as the ecstasy of the intimate touch invades my senses.

“S-Shikamaru, what are you doing?” I yelp out as his other hand snakes its way under my body and to my other breast.

“I’m showing you what distracting really is.” He clips out, resting his heated face against my neck and nipping softly at it. My body acts on its own free will, arching my back into his body, and grinding my ass against his pelvis deeply.

“But we’re supposed to-“ I begin, being quickly cut off as his breath ghosts over the spot he just bit,” resting… I know.”

He pulls away, minding the sore spots as I moan in frustration,” and I can’t do that now that you’ve made a move on me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve crossed a line. I’m too tired to think clearly.” He apologizes, quickly suggesting he went home.

“No! I mean, you just caught me off guard. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” I admit sheepishly, guiding his hands back to position. It was his turn to sigh, only this time it was relief… maybe even pleasure. His lower body rhythmically rolls into mine, boasting a defined bulge against me that grows harder with every touch. I can hear the soft moan in my ear and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from following suit.

“I’m pretty lame at the moment… I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” I breathe out, heart quickening with every motion. I suddenly realize it might be beneficial for the both of us as a moan finally escapes my own mouth,“But then again, I wouldn’t mind going slow and enjoying it. I find going slow is quite relaxing and a great way to promote rest.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me, Y/N?” Shikamaru breathes out tiredly as my mind races. I whip around quickly, disregarding any aching pain and settle on top of him with a huff,” fuck it.”

My hands wander across his body, plucking and pulling at the fabric that’s separates us. It felt so wrong, yet so right to know first hand that the man who always complained about women could feel emotions such as intimacy. The friend I always slept or napped with, but never in an intimate way. The static charge of rubbing clothes courses through my finger tips, jolting through my body and down to my core. If I didn’t like him so much… if I didn’t crave or even need him so much, I might just feel guilty. But the feeling of his lips clumsily finding mine between closed eyes and rambunctious limbs fumbling around, felt a little too satisfying. We were both lazy at heart, never in a rush. And it showed as his lips took time against mine. Slowly pulling in my lower lip as his hand finds its way to squeeze against my ass, followed by a light smack. I use his slight distraction to nip at his lip, taking in the faint taste of an after mission cigarette drag. He sharply inhales, finding his bearings in gripping tightly at my hips. Shikamaru’s eyes flutter halfway open, hungrily staring me down as all thoughts escape my head in nervousness,” Y/N, are you okay?”

I shake my head back to reality, looking down at his pants line and back to him,” Y-yeah. Are you… are you okay with this?”

“Yeah.” He huffs a silent laugh as I work at his pants, finally receiving a helping hand as he pulls them below his knees. Shikamaru’s hips jerk as my hand delicately wraps around him, pumping softly and slowly, falling in to a rhythm with his breathing. Shikamaru tilts his head back, moaning slightly with a half cocked smile of bliss, jutting his hips in to each stroke as his face quickly flushes,” just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, it’s my neck that bothers me. Not my hand.” I exhale, watching his eyes roll before they meet mine,” if it gets to be too much. Tell me to stop.”

I nod, taking a brief moment to slip off my pants that desperately need a wash after the mission and crawl back on top of him. I find the courage to sink down, the ache between my hips enhancing with each second I take to slide fully on to him. By the time I’m fully settled, it feels like my core is about to burst with ecstasy, until he lifts me slightly by my hips and slams me back down gently. A soft yelp escapes my throat from surprise, quickly hushed by his voice,” does that hurt?”

“No, it- it feels good.” I moan between thrusts, watching as his face contorts from pain to fits of pleasure and ecstasy. My head instinctively moves to fall back, quickly answered with a jolt of pain before Shikamaru goes taut and stops all movement,” Shikamaru, I said I was okay. Keep going… please.”

He nods, resuming his motion as I feel the familiar knot in my stomach, unfortunately dulled by the ebbing pain that seemed to rush back in uninvited. My eyes shut tight, spots flickering as my neck hurts and lower body goes numb in pleasure. My moan is choked out by Shikamaru’s own, followed quickly as his pace picks up, using the last of his energy to finish strong and rough.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He hisses out between his clenched jaw, forcing my eyes to obey and lock on to his before they wander once again with the sensation of pure ecstasy. With a guttural moan from Shikamaru, I can feel the hot ropes pulse in to me and his body becomes rigid once again. His head arches back in to the pillow behind him, his moan quickly becoming a whimper, and guilt makes me hope it’s from pleasure and not pain. I can barely manage to flop over beside him and try my best to hide the winces, but fail miserably.

“It was too much for the both of us, wasn’t it?” He sighs, eyes fixated on the ceiling as his hand rubs against his torso. I reach my hand to move his, taking his place to rub at the bruising area softly,” probably. But you always sucked at timing.”

His hand snakes upwards to cup the back of my neck and rub soft circles where it hurt the most, and his eyes slowly meet mine,” such a drag I didn’t do it sooner.”

I find my eyes fluttering closed at the lulling touch against my neck, being pulled slowly to rest my head against his chest and match his steady breathing,” I only let you because it was a pity to see you being the one in pain for once.”

“That’s a lie.” Shikamaru snickers, pinching my ear slightly with his free hand. I giggle back, tilting my head up to sleepily look to him,” and how would you know?”

“Never tell Choji secrets. Especially when you’re both drunk.” He answers, pulling me fully on to him with a grunt. My mind tries to gather any time Choji and I were drunk together, but falls short,” that’s a bluff. I haven’t been drunk with Choji for a long time.”

“Barbecue, sake, and wedding gift planning.” Shikamaru hints.

I then remember the night, sitting down with Choji and venting about not being able to find Hinata and Naruto a gift when my own love life was on the rocks. Sake goes down too sweetly after going through a break up just before a friend gets married. It was several weeks ago now, turning to Choji after Ino and even TenTen had come up short with ideas.

“Why don’t you ask Shikamaru? You two seem to think pretty similarly.” Choji huffs out, ordering the bottle of sake.

“The last thing we need is the two of us working together. It always ends horribly and you know that, Choji.” I cough out after knocking back several cups of the bitter and satisfying beverage.

“It’s because you like him.” Choji smirks, wiggling his eyebrows before ordering another bottle. Two bottles empty and halfway through the third one, I groan as my head slams against the table,” Choji, if I had the capability of liking anyone, why would you assume out of everyone in the leaf, it would be Shikamaru?”

“Because, Shikamaru is the only thing you talk or complain about when you’re drunk, even sober for that matter.” Choji points out, laying down more strips of beef against the barbecue. I bang my head against the table a few more time in frustration,” because that idiot doesn’t leave my head. It’s wrong to think of a friend that way damnit. Especially him.”

The next sentence is the one part I knew Choji took to Shikamaru in confidence,” we’re both too dense to just fuck and get it over with. Besides, sex takes effort and I use enough of that during missions.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before…” Choji laughs, pulling a strip off the grill and finishing off the plate of beef. Everything afterwards is black as my hand reaches to finish the sake straight from the bottle.

“Oh no, he told you.” I groan, burying my head in guilt and embarrassment. Shikamaru only hugs me with a reassuring laugh,” everything.”

“Just wait until you hear what he told me what you said.” I lie, feeling as his breathing stops,” L-listen, when I told him about that little dream, I figured he wouldn’t say anything!”

“Choji didn’t really tell me anything, but now I’m curious about this dream…” I trail off, eyes becoming heavy as a yawn wracks my body.

“That’s a story for another time, we should get some actual bed rest.” He yawns back.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d try to argue with you. You win for now.” I mumble out, quickly letting the claws of sleep sink in to me. Before drifting off, I could feel his lips lazily drift across my forehead. I knew in that moment, I was too comfortable to complain or prod even further. I was content with being finally in his arms and getting some well deserved bed rest.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • II

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 3.8K

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares.

Authors note: Chapter Two: Something of the past- (EDITED: 09-03-24) songs are One of Us by the world alive and Broken glass by unprocessed ;)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

I smiled at the brunette, feeling grateful for his willingness to listen. He returned the smile and gave me a knowing look, almost as if he understood.

Noah's attention turned toward the houses we passed. His gaze was intense as he scanned each one carefully.

"Sorry for dumping all that on you," I said with an uncomfortable laugh. "I don't know why I just told all that to a stranger."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're not strangers anymore," he said. "More like acquaintances."

I felt reassured by his words and couldn't help but ask about him. "So what about you? You seem pretty mysterious."

Noah fell into silence, his brows furrowed in thought once again. His gaze scanned the grass intently as if searching through memories. Eventually, he turned back to me with a small grin.

“I’m…just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that. His eyes held a depth of emotion that hinted at hidden truths and untold tales. But I didn't push. After all, we had only just met.

"Well, 'just Noah,'" I said with a playful smile, "I'm glad our paths crossed today."

He returned my smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me too. More than you know."

+++++

NOAH

Jolly's angry voice cut through the air as he yelled, "Where the fuck were you? We've been waiting for hours!"

I slammed the door of our dingy motel room, shooting him a sharp look. "Nowhere, mom. Not like you need to know," I retorted.

He stepped forward, getting close enough that our chests almost touched. "You’re right. I don't care what you were doing or who you were doing. But you know what time you need to be back and you're late," he scolded, pressing his finger into my chest.

I pushed against him, creating space between us as I furrowed my brow. "Fine, sorry. I lost track of time," I muttered, throwing myself onto the cot that served as my bed. I let out a heavy sigh and buried my cheek into the musty pillow. As I stared at the retro 80s carpet on the floor, I traced the faint outline of a bloodstain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open during a job.

"It's your turn, Noah," Nick Folio announced, plopping a backpack onto the table as he reclined in his chair with his legs crossed on top of it. He had a joint dangling from his lips, the smoke billowing out between his teeth.

"I hate doing this shit," I grumbled in protest, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Too bad," Jolly snapped, his voice still laced with anger. "We all have our parts to play. Now get your ass up and do your job."

I groaned, forcing myself to sit up on the cot. The springs creaked beneath me, a sound that had become all too familiar in our weeks of hopping from one seedy motel to another. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin.

Nick tossed the backpack towards me, and I caught it reflexively. The weight of it made my stomach churn. I knew what was inside without having to look.

"Remember," Folio said, taking a long drag from his joint, "in and out. Quick and clean. No fuck-ups this time."

I nodded in annoyance, my throat tight. The last job had gone sideways, and we'd barely made it out. All thanks to me. Again.

“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.

He tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest eliciting another annoyed groan from me. Grudgingly, I pulled on the black leather gloves to cover up my tattoos and shoved the mask into my pocket.

I couldn't contain my frustration any longer as I stood up. "How many more weeks do we have to put up with this shit?" I snapped, looking at Nicholas for support. He placed his hands on my shoulders, trying to calm me down.

"I know," Ruffilo said cautiously, knowing how on edge I was.

Jolly let out a bitter laugh. "What else can we do, Noah? Pull a million bucks out of our asses?"

I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.

The Swede sat back in his chair next to Folio and continued, "You know the deal. We do what we have to do to survive. How else are we going to pay back D?"

I shrugged off Nicholas' hand and muttered under my breath as I grabbed my combat boots and kicked my old black vans under the cot. As I leaned down and tied up the laces, memories of past jobs flooded my mind and regret weighed heavily on me, knotting together past mistakes.

Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before saying, "Don't forget that you're the reason we're stuck in this mess."

My head shot up, eyes meeting his intense gaze. A red hue adorned my skin as my ears burned with embarrassment and anger, "What's that supposed to mean, you fucking prick?"

Jolly raised his voice, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees. "I'm tired of hearing your complaints, Noah. Do you think any of us enjoy this? Do you think we want to keep living this way? Don’t blame us for the work when you fucked us over first.”

My chest heaved with irritation as his words cut deep. "I was fourteen!" I shouted, spittle flying from my mouth. "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't told me to in the first place!"

Nicholas reached for me, holding out an arm across my chest to force me back. I aggressively swatted his hand away and grabbed the backpack, tossing it over my shoulder.

"I never told you to do anything," Jolly growled, watching as my fists clenched and muscles tightened.

"You're the one I was supposed to look up to!" I yelled.

Jolly scowled, muttering between his teeth, “It's not my fault your parents died.”

Both Nick’s turned to look at him with furrowed brows of disappointment as my heart raced, my palms sweating.

"Don't you dare bring them into this!" I screamed, seething with anger and ready to pounce on the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I struggled against him, closing my eyes in fury as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

Just an hour ago, I had been sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. It was risky spending time with someone I had just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle...so worthy.

How could someone captivate me so quickly? It left me baffled. I knew I was completely infatuated with her, and I already found myself craving to see her again. I've gotten coffee from that same cafe almost every day for a year; it's the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same - the coffee, the customers, the servers...except for Y/N. Seeing her there threw off my rhythm. It almost felt like she was purposely placed there just for me- like a breath of fresh air in my dull, grey, lifeless world. There was something about her - the way she spoke, her mysterious aura, her quick wit, and those beautiful fucking eyes.

But here I was, my unworthiness weighing heavily on me, reminding me that I didn't deserve anyone's love or attention.

Nick snapped me out of my thoughts by offering me a hit of his joint, trying to ease the tension between us. I took a puff and handed it back to him, nodding when Nicholas asked if I knew where we were headed next.

"I've been looking at this neighbourhood near the coffee shop," I told them, trying to act nonchalant. "I scoped out some places earlier. Lots of elderly folks, so they probably have some valuable stuff."

“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “We spend enough time around there...as us.”

I shrugged, “Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide.”

Nick suggested bringing a gun for intimidation, and I agreed. It was all part of the plan, even though a small voice in my head questioned what I was doing.

My finger grazed across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.

What am I even doing?

Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.

“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.

I left the motel room and walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building.

As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The familiar scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.

I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:3am on a Wednesday, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies. I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.

Placing an earpod in my ear, I scrolled through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her.

But truthfully, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.

And yet, here I am, still haunted by everything that has happened.

And it remains With me to this day

No matter what I do This scar will never fade

+++++

Y/N

I signed off at my job, releasing a heavy sigh after a gruelling 12-hour day. The four-hour shift at the bar was a relief, but I still felt drained, knowing that I only had 8 hours until I had to be back at the cafe for another round.

As I walked out into the chilly 1 am air, I reapplied my red lipstick to soothe my dry lips. Thankfully, home was just a short ten-minute walk away, and the thought of my warm bed and my cat waiting for me kept me going.

But even in my exhaustion, I couldn't shake off the excitement of meeting Noah earlier that day. His charming smile and mysterious demeanour lingered in my mind, making my heart flutter with butterflies. Was this just a one-time thing? It was hard to believe that I went on a 'date' with someone I had just met, but then again, work was pretty much all I did. My life needed a little bit of thrill and adventure.

As I hummed to myself, hoping for a text from Noah in the morning, I pushed aside the dread of working again tomorrow. Lost in fanciful daydreams, I reached my townhouse and inserted the key into the lock; only to realize that I may have left it unlocked in the morning when I was exhausted.

Shit, did I really forget to lock it? That's not like me...

With furrowed brows, I opened the door and double-checked that it was locked before stepping inside. But something felt off - there was no sign of my orange cat Juice by the door as usual. And none of the lights were on, even though I always left the living room lamp on so it's not completely dark by the time I got home.

"Juice?" I called out nervously as an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Something was not right. The house was quiet and still as I made my way cautiously towards the kitchen.

"Juju baby? Where are you?" I called out, flicking on the bright kitchen light. What was once the comforting warmth of home, now turned into a thick sense of dread as I placed my bag on the counter, eagerly awaiting my cat's response. But instead of a familiar meow, I heard the floor above me creak in a rhythmic pattern that was definitely not feline in nature.

My heart pounded and my breath caught in my throat as I froze in place. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as goosebumps prickled along my skin.

I strained to listen for any other sounds, but all was quiet except for the occasional rustle coming from upstairs. Adrenaline surged through me as I reached for the largest kitchen knife from the block, gripping it tightly as I crept towards the stairs.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I cautiously ascended the stairs from the kitchen. With each step, I couldn't help but think, this is how people get murdered in horror movies, you dumb bitch, but it was too late to turn back now.

Finally reaching the top, I turned on the hallway light and scanned the darkened doors illuminated by moonlight streaming through the windows. My bedroom door slowly creaked open and a figure emerged.

My heart stopped and panic seized me until I realized it was just my cat; wide-eyed and meowing. "Jesus Christ, cat!" I scolded, overcome with both fear and relief as I fell to my knees and scooped him into my arms. His soft orange fur was a welcome comfort as I ran my fingers through it, rubbing my face along his head. He didn’t pur like usual though.

"You scared the absolute shit out of me," I laughed shakily, kissing his head before setting him down. Juice wriggled free from my grasp and darted into my room. Shaking my head with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, I placed the knife on the banister and followed him, grateful for his presence in the otherwise empty house.

Perched on my bed, Juice hopped to attention as soon as I entered the room. His tail flicked back and forth eagerly as he stared at my mirrored closet, emitting a series of demanding meows. I flipped on the lamp next to my bed and approached him, reaching out to pet him. "What's wrong, buddy? Are you hungry?" I asked, even though I knew his bowl was full downstairs.

He continued to meow and I shook my head, pulling off my sweater and tossing it into the hamper.

"What is up with you-" I started to say before a gloved hand covered my mouth, muffling my words.

Panic flooded through me as another arm encircled my waist, holding me tightly against the stranger's chest, and my eyes widened with fear as I looked up at them, unable to scream for help.

I could feel their heart pounding against my back, their harsh breaths mixing with mine as they turned our bodies towards the mirror. Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw the reflection of the menacing figure behind me. Their entire body was covered except for their eyes and mouth, peering out from behind a black ski mask.

I whimpered helplessly against their hand as my stomach dropped at the sight of the gun poking out from their black cargo pants.

The most terrifying thing of all was the distinct scent of Dior cologne that filled my nostrils, making my heart race even faster with fear.

His voice, with its distinct accent, burned into my memory as he spoke the words that filled me with dread. In the mirror, I saw him - Noah. The cologne, the voice, it had to be him. I knew I should have never gone out with a stranger. How could I have been so foolish?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said slowly, words filled with worry and caution.

Tears streamed down my face as I shook and cried, his hand still covering my mouth. He followed me home, and now I was paying for my stupidity. But I wasn't going down without a fight.

"I'm going to leave," he said calmly, "and you're going to let me. Understood?"

I nodded against his grasp, my eyes glued to his every move through the tears. He closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, his body moulding into my back.

Did he know that I knew who he was?

There was no way I was going to let this asshole get away with whatever he had planned for me.

"Please don't scream," he said, loosening his grip slightly. As soon as he let go, I spun around and kicked him with all my might in the groin area.

He fell to his knees, letting out an agonizing groan as he held himself in pain. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I ran into the hallway and grabbed the knife from the bannister.

"You fucking creep! You followed me!" I screamed, brandishing the knife at him. "You're a lowlife piece of shit! Get out of my house or I'll call the cops on your sorry ass…Noah." His name tasted like bile in my mouth as it escaped from between my lips.

While shaking with anger and fear, I pulled out my phone and dialled 911. Noah crouched in front of my bedroom door, pain etched on his face.

"I swear to god, Y/N, I didn't know this was your house," he said, desperation in his voice. "Please, don't call the cops."

"Why shouldn't I?" I yelled back at him, my thumb hovering over the green call button.

"Just...just please don't," he pleaded, pressing himself against the door. But it was too late for him to try and play innocent. I pressed the button and held the phone up to my ear as it rang, arm still holding the knife toward him.

Noah's eyes widened with panic before his hand reached for the gun tucked into his waistband. Time slowed as he pulled it out and pointed it at me, causing me to freeze in fear. The 911 operator's voice was muffled by the sound of my racing heart.

"Hang up," Noah whispered, his hands shaking with the weight of the gun. "Y/N, please hang up."

"Hello? Are you still there?" The voice on the other end of the line asked, repeating the question over and over.

"Y/N, please hang up," Noah repeated, his voice urgent.

“Hello?”

Noah held out his other hand, palm up as if inviting me to take it. It was a stark contrast to the gun he held in his other hand.

The phone fell from my grasp, landing on the carpeted floor with a dampened thud. He quickly reached for it and ended the call.

As he let out a relieved sigh, guilt washed over him. He hung his head and tossed the gun toward the bathroom before removing his mask, revealing the face I had been longing for just hours earlier.

The brunette looked shattered and torn as he watched me crumple before him, my panic attack consuming me.

“I-I didn't mean to scare you. I-I” Noah stammered frantically as he moved closer to me, “I can’t have the police involved- I can’t leave my brothers.”

I collapsed to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest while staring at the gun near the bathroom. Fear overtook me and I began to hyperventilate.

“I swear, I won’t hurt you,” Noah said as he leaned down in front of me and took hold of my wrists.

I struggled to breathe, trying to pull away from him but felt paralyzed, and my breathing became erratic as I felt like I couldn't exhale.

“Breathe,” Noah's hands were now on either side of my face, “please Y/N, just breathe!”

His eyes scanned my face with concern as he held onto me tightly. “Count backwards from 100 by threes with me, okay?”

“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah started and I followed his lead.

“85, 82, 79…” I managed to choke out and Noah loosened his grip on my face. He placed his hands on top of mine instead.

I wanted to run away in fear but at the same time, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to breathe again.

Noah continued counting with me, showing me a steady breathing pattern and I followed suit. “58, 55, 52, 49…”

We finally reached zero and my breathing remained in sync with his. I pulled my hands away from him abruptly and hugged myself tightly as I scooted away from him, as if he were the most disgusting thing in the world.

“I don't know whether to tell you to get lost,” I said, glaring at him, “or thank you.”

Noah looked at me with concern before running his gloved hand over his face. Realizing he still had them on, he groaned in frustration and angrily ripped them off, revealing his tattooed hands.

I couldn't help but follow the outlines of the flower with my eyes once again.

“I know you probably won't believe me but I swear I didn't know this was your house,” he began, holding his hands up in surrender, his pleading eyes met mine.

He seemed so genuine and sincere that part of me wanted to believe him, but screw that.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I snapped back, “But why were you even in someone else’s house?” I wiped my mouth, realizing the smudged lipstick from earlier. I must've looked like a total mess.

Noah watched me intently, his gaze studying my lips.

“I- I swear if I could explain, I would,” he rambled again, avoiding eye contact and looking at the carpeted floor, “but-”

Three loud knocks at the door interrupted his sentence, and Noah's eyes widened as he stared at me, the colour draining from his face.

“This is LAPD!” A booming voice called out from the other side of the door. The doorknob jiggled, trying to open.

“Shit,” Noah muttered, frantically scanning the hallway for something. He stood up and looked around before turning to me, a realization dawning on him. Without hesitation, Noah ripped off his sweater and black tank top, leaving him shirtless in front of me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered-yelled, furrowing my brows at him in distaste.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of me again with an expression filled with fear and distress.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled a bit too loudly as the door below us rattled once more.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah's intense gaze locked onto mine as he begged, “Just this once Y/N.”

I hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in to Noah's desperate request. His hands gripped the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me towards him. With complete desperation, Noah kissed me intensely.

Chapter three

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

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@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[fanaura]

eye-opening part 3 ≋ ▫ᵒᴼᵒ▫▫·(nsfw)

part 1

part 2

neteyam x omaticayan!reader - in neteyam's POV

synopsis: neteyam and y/n's tension finally come to a head

content warnings: explicit sexual content, loving neteyam putting her pleasure over himself, characters are aged up ofc, roughly 1.2k words

The kiss roused something in me. My mind rushed and my stomach was bouncing around inside me, making me feel sick with excitement The feeling of her bottom teeth slightly grazing my lip. It was desperate, yearning. Slow. So painfully slow and so electrifyingly good. It was waves crashing down in a storm, a blazing fire burning through my viens, warming my body and gnawing at my conciousness. I was more awake than I had ever been.

Her fingers were in my hair, her lips on mine. My tongue pressed at her sealed lips, asking for permission like someone knocking on a door, asking to be let in. The moan she let out when she opened for me made my arms around her waist tighten in response. I groaned. I was afraid to let go. Afraid that if I let up even marginally, she would slip away in an instant, leaving my soul empty like a home destroyed.

We ended up kneeling on the soft ground, both of us trembling in restraint. We were chained by ourselves, by each other, not wanting to rush it. I put both my hands on the hollow of her neck and pulled back. Her eyes were glazed with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I gulped, mouth so dry, wanting her lips back on mine.

“Are you… sure?” I asked, chest heaving. My arms and shoulders were tense, trying to distract myself from the hardness that was forming below. I wanted to - no, had to - know she wanted it as much I did. And god- I wanted it so bad it hurt. She gave me a soft smile that I was everything I needed to know, confirming it with a breathless “yes. I’m sure.” I dipped my head, placing tentative kisses along her neck and collarbone, not really knowing what I was doing, but from the purrs and hums coming from y/n’s beautiful mouth, I guessed I wasn’t doing too bad a job.

With my hand on the small of her back, I guided her down so she was lying on the ground, making sure she was comfortable as I planted my arms on either side of her, trailing kisses down her body. I rose up a little bit, slowly untying the cloth covering her breasts, chucking it away lightly. She slightly arched her back off the ground, she was so breathtaking I was dizzy. I kissed her again, this time leaving kisses all the way down her body until I reached her loincloth. I looked up at her from my position, a silent question in my eyes. She nodded, and the small piece of fabric was gone in a second.

I needed to take a second. Just to look at her. I couldn’t believe she was real. I am convinced Eywa has sculpted every aspect about her to be perfect. Not just to me, but to anyone and everyone that is blessed to be near her. Her slender naked body shone in the vibrant light of the flora and fauna, and I couldn’t help but feel like she was letting me in on a secret, a piece of information she kept that only I was now allowed to know. It is new to both of us, this moment we share, the things we feel. It feels right. It feels like… home.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All week, you were all that filled my mind,” I said, my mouth to her dripping pussy. My first instinct is to lick all of her juices up, to lick her clean. It seems right, so I do exactly that.

“Is this okay?” I asked, continuing my work while grabbing her thighs and putting them over my shoulders, settling down into a comfortable position.

“ohmy- Neteyam,” she moans, her hands diving into my hair and gripping the braids.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then” I chuckled, continuing to work my tongue on the outer of her sex, dragging long swipes down her centre, then smaller ones.

I experiment. I decide that the way my girl jerks and trembles when I play with the small bud at the apex of her thighs is a good thing, so I continue to work with that, sucking it into my mouth and swirling circles around it, watching for her reaction. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she cried out. I smirked in growing confidence.

Her moans are like music to my ears, I can’t get enough. I palm one of her breasts in my right hand, her nipple peaked and hard against it. I move the same hand to where my tongue is, except I use my index finger to enter the wet hole at my face. Her gasp is loud, and becomes a moan directly after. Good, I was worried I was I was hurting her. Her hips undulate, rocking back and forth as I move my fingers inside of her and used my tongue on her clit, begging - demanding - more.

I speed up. More and more by the second, causing my girl to yelp and bite her own hand, to which I grab and pull away. “Don’t hold back, let me hear it,” her face was knotted together pleasure taking over her features as I kept going. She bit her bottom lip, hard, before crying out her satisfaction, choking and gasping on her own gratification.

“That’s it, you’re so wet. Only for me.”

“Shut up,” she huffed in gasping breaths, her whole body tense, grip locked in my hair. The small hurt sent pleasure to the already rock hard bulge under my loincloth, throbbing. The muscles in her neck strained as she scratched her nails down my back.

“F-faster,” she stuttered, her stomach convulsing. I went as fast as I could, pumping in and out of her with my fingers, tongue working in tandem.

“Neteyam!!” she yelped, shaking as she reached the pinnacle of pleasure, reaching her high. I slowed down, lapping up every bit of liquid she gave me, desperate for her, for anything she was willing to give me.

She lay there, panting, and I forced myself to move away from her swollen pussy, coming up so I was eye-level with her face. I kissed her, long and deep, while she still shivered underneath me. She watched me, her eyes still hazy with lingering desire.

“Neteyam. I want you,” She whispered in my ear, kissing my jaw, the crook of my neck, my damp chest.

I grinned, “slow down, my girl. I am yours and you are mine. We have all the time in the world,” I lightly brushed my lips against hers, feeling her cool breath, her face glowing like our moons in eclipse.

“I see you,” she said quiety. My heart ached with all the love in her voice, at how much she cared.

“I see you,” I replied. I was a full troph of water, overflowing with the affection I had felt for so long, that was always there, in the background, persisting around me and my soul like a promise.

We were made for each other. My home, my solace, my release in amongst the madness. Nothing and no one could get in between us. Not now, not ever.

taglist: @fluloa @slxttedjakesullyenthusiast @s1enn409

[nebulousbrainsoup]

Always, For You.

SUMMARY: For ages, you have taken care of the Crown Prince, helped him escape his worries and the stresses of soon bearing the throne. Tonight, he wants to take care of you. PAIRING: prince!seonghwa x fem!reader GENRE: smut, lil bit of fluff AU/TROPE: royal au, secret lovers/forbidden love WORD COUNT: 2.5k RATING: 18+ TAGS/WARNINGS: pet names (my love, darling, my prince), idiots in love, it's really emotional (but in a good way), not beta'd, probably questionable editing A/N: for @hwaightme || bai, my love, my soulmate, the seong to my joong and one of the kindest people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing; happiest of birthdays to you. thank you for the joy you bring into the lives of others. thank you for being the sweet soul you are. and thank you, eternally, for indulging and encouraging my chaos and bullshit at every possible turn and for going very rapidly from "admired favorite author" to "chaos mutual" to "dear friend". this blog would not be what it is without you, and i cannot thank you enough. much love, and happy birthday <3 smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: momentary dom/sub tones, they're both switches, oral (fem recieving), seonghwa's tongue, pet names (good boy, my prince), no protection (don't do it)

The chill of the approaching winter permeated the air around you, piercing through the thin material of your night dress. Your cheeks surely had a rosy, wind-kissed tint to them, and you could feel the skin of your lower lip chapping as you gnawed at it. The minutes were dragging on like hours as you waited, ever patient, for your lover to emerge from the darkness of the palace gardens. He was not infrequently late; being the prince, he had many responsibilities to take care of before seeing you—but rarely had the sky been dark for so long before his arrival. A shiver coursed through you and you brought your numbing fingers to your lips, breathing warmth back into them.

Your time together was precious and so very limited. You would wait. He had never betrayed your trust before, and he would not do so tonight.

After what may have been hours, quick, light footsteps approached your perch on the same bench you perched on every week, unmistakable as anyone other than the man you awaited. He looked flustered already when he turned the corner, cheeks flushed pink from the brisk night, and he sighed in relief when his gaze fell upon you. You smiled, less warmth and more mischief behind yours, as your mind ran wild at the sight of him.

He was in front of you in two long strides, bowing to press his lips to your knuckles as you rose to your feet. His cloak wound its way around your shoulders, an apology in his sweet brown eyes as he took you in.

“Y/N,” he sighed, breathless, “you waited.”

“Seonghwa,” you smiled, reaching up with your free hand to close the cloak around your shoulders, “you came.”

It was a silly ritual, really, one you would deny if another ever discovered it. You had long since stopped scolding the prince for his whispered apologies at his frequent tardiness, settling instead on a compromise. His greeting, an apology, and yours, a soft abatement of his nerves. You would wait until the end of time for your prince charming.

“You’re near-frozen,” he hummed, clasping your hand between both of his to warm it.

“I’m alright,” you replied, smiling warmly as those wide eyes begged once more for the forgiveness you readily offered. “You made it, my love, that is what matters.”

He beamed, the stars dancing in his eyes as he straightened up. “I have somewhere warm for us tonight, if you would allow me the honor of your company.”

Ever the gentleman, Seonghwa released your hand, offering instead his arm. “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.” You looped your arm through his, giggling to yourself as his ears turned pink. 

You would go anywhere he desired of you.

The one-room cottage you found yourself in was quaint and cozy, a small fire already burning in the hearth when your lover opened the door for you. Grinning once more, you curtsied before you stepped over the threshold, sighing as the warmth in the cottage sank into your bones. Something undefinable tugged at your heart as your eyes roamed the space, noting the small bed pushed into a corner, the lingering scent of dust in the air and—as the centerpiece of Seonghwa’s evening work—-a cozy-looking nest of pillows, cushions and blankets nestled squarely in front of the fire. Huffing out a happy, breathless laugh, you turned back to find him observing you, a coy smile on his face. 

“How did you manage this?”

“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted, stepping properly into the space and admiring his handiwork. “Autumn has been shorter than I anticipated. It was my intention to have this place for us before the first freeze, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite reach that goal.” 

His eyes had drifted to the floor as he turned back to you. Quietly, you closed the space, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back to your own. “It’s perfect, Hwa. Thank you.” 

The smile that spread across his face warmed you more than the crackling fire. “Anything for you, dearest.”

His eyes darted to your lips as he spoke, and you smiled, once again rolling the bottom one between your teeth. You could feel the way his pulse ticked up under your fingers, and warmth spread through your body. It was a beautiful thing, to be so wanted.

“Anything?” you breathed, barely audible. Still, he nodded. “Then make love to me, my prince.”

He needed no more direction, sealing his lips over your own and pulling you flush against him. A pleased hum passed between your lips at his blatant need, his grip on your waist firm. You sighed into the kiss, arms draping over his shoulders and fingers carding into his hair. With one soft tug, he was melting in your arms, a breathy groan leaving him as you guided him away from you and gestured to the nest he had made.

“Take your boots off and kneel, darling,” you directed, a warm smile still etched onto your features.

Seonghwa was enamored with you, his doe eyes shining as he nodded eagerly and rushed to follow your instructions. Your heart fluttered once again as you watched him obey, slipping your own shoes off and slowly making your way to the fireplace to carefully hang his cloak next to it. When you turned back to him, he was watching you with a steady, half-lidded gaze, hands obediently splayed on his thighs.

You beamed, stepping into the ring of coziness and kneeling in front of him, catching his chin to pull him in for another brief kiss. “There’s my good boy.”

You both heard and felt his breath catch, as he preened at the praise, leaning into your touch. “Always for you, all for you,” he hummed, eyes flickering over your face.

You observed him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as his gaze remained sharp, reading you as you were reading him. Many nights, all it took was a single direction and a bit of praise and you had the prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Tonight, though, you could see something different in his gaze—something curious and questioning.

“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, fingers tracing back up his jaw to card into his hair. “This is meant to stop that.”

“It’s not bad, this time,” he hummed, hands leaving his thighs to ghost up your sides. You barely held back a pleasant shiver, raising an eyebrow at both his statement and his bold move. “Let me take care of you tonight,” he muttered, gaze meeting yours once more, “Let me do for you what you do for me.” He shifted from his position, kneeling up to loom over you, and you felt your stomach flip. “Let me worship every inch of your body and treat you tonight like the queen I will one day make you.”

All of your usual bravado was gone, the persona you had so carefully built for your encounters with Seonghwa ripped to shreds with a few pretty words. You heaved a shaky, breathless sigh and nodded. “Yes.”

His lips met yours once more the instant the word left your mouth, hands wrapping firmly around your torso. You pressed yourself against him until every possible inch of your body was flush with his own, grip firm in his hair and on his shoulder. Slowly, gently, he shifted, laying you back into the bed he had made for you as though you would shatter. His hands roamed over you, his touch feather-light as he explored your body. For the first time in your memory with Seonghwa, you were the first to break the kiss. You parted from him with a gasp and a heady whine, grip tightening against his scalp as he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck. As his lips worked lower, his hands slipped higher, sneaking under the thin cotton of your night dress to slide up your thighs. You sighed, pleased, and felt him moan against your collar bone as he found your ass bare. His eyes flickered up to your own, pleading with you, and you grinned. Perhaps tonight would not be so different, after all.

You had a special, particular relationship with the Crown Prince. Never in your memory had he taken control of you in any aspect; you were always the one to take care of him. His daily duties weighed upon him heavily; any courtesan or servant with a working set of eyes and a brain could see that. One passing comment about helping His Highness get out of his head and he had begun sending you missives, calling for you to meet him in the gardens after sundown. You could remember the first night you spent with him as though it were yesterday, little more than a conversation and a chaste kiss shared between the two of you. Oh, how beautifully had he blossomed.

Now, there was no rosy coloring to the tips of his ears as he lifted you from the makeshift mattress and tugged your night dress over your head, dropping it carelessly to the side. Now, the eyes that once looked at you with trepidation and abashment burned into you hungrily as his lips reattached to your skin at the earliest opportunity. You whined in protest as you were left bare to him, an unfamiliar sound that had him halting in his tracks for only a moment before his mind registered your shaking hands, tugging frantically at the buttons on his uniform coat. He chuckled quietly, sitting back on his heels to do the work for you.

“I never thought you would let me have you like this,” he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his delicate features. “Thank you.”

His pause was long enough for you to take a deep breath and gather yourself just enough to smirk at him, the hand still on him tracing lower to press against his arousal. “I know you’ll make it worth my while, won’t you, my prince?”

Your words seemed to douse the flames behind his eyes in kerosene, his jaw tensing as he stripped his upper half with more urgency. “I will make tonight worth every minute you have ever waited for me.” 

Within seconds, his coat had been stripped away and his undershirt quickly followed, each finding their way to the floor. He dropped just as rapidly to settle his face between your thighs, pupils lust-blown as he glanced up at you. For the first time since you had begun this relationship, he asked for no permission before pressing his tongue against your core and lapping a fat stripe up it. The moan that ripped from your throat at the combined sensation and unfamiliar position had him humming happily against you, eyes slipping shut in bliss as he began to work you over. Seonghwa could die happily between your thighs, he thought. There was something intoxicating about your scent, your taste, and each time he found himself in this position, it took every bit of his willpower not to stay there the whole night. 

Tonight, though, he could do just that.

His moans buzzed through you pleasantly and your hands once again anchored themselves in his hair, grounding you against the onslaught of pleasure as that devilishly talented tongue of his fucked into you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his lips and chin as he lapped and sucked at your clit, interspersing the intense waves of pleasure with the kinder, gentler sensation of dipping into your entrance. You sighed and squirmed under his attention, fingers tugging gently at his scalp in encouragement. He was practically purring as he drank you in eagerly, lust-drunk gaze locked onto your expression while your legs closed tighter around his head. Within mere minutes, you were falling over the peak of your orgasm, grip vice-like in Seonghwa’s hair as you held him still—though, if his moans were any indication, he wouldn’t move if he could.

That sinful, skilled tongue laved at you until you were a whimpering mess, palm pressing against his forehead to nudge him away as overstimulation began to take hold. He gasped for breath as he relented, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. Your chest heaved as your eyes blinked open, a fresh wave of arousal making you shudder at the dark, hungry gaze fixed on you.

“I could die happily between your legs,” he muttered, voice hoarse and laden with arousal.

“Seonghwa,” you sighed, reaching forward to drag him into a messy kiss. The taste of your arousal lingered on his tongue, now sliding between your lips the same way it had parted your folds. Gripping his hair tighter, you reluctantly dragged him back, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I need you.” 

Your plea came out breathless, saturated in need and, when paired with your nails dragging over the front of his pants, it was impossible for your lover to misunderstand it. It was his turn to breathe a shaky exhale, gentle hands pressing you back into the now disheveled nest until he could rise to his knees. You watched him carefully, an appreciative half-smile stuck on your face as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was beautiful in every situation, in every light, but tonight, with the dancing firelight bathing him in gold and casting twisting patterns over his skin, he was a work of art that should be immortalized in a gallery. 

The warmth of the fire when combined with his body heat was overwhelming in the best way, just the right side of suffocating to push all other thoughts from your mind. He captured your lips firmly as he once more caged you in, filling you perfectly as your hips met. Pleased sounds left your lips in unison when he began to move; strong, slow rolls of his hips that had you arching up into him. Little time passed before your kiss dissolved into nothing more than panting against each other’s mouths, and you fell back to the ground, content to lock your eyes instead of your lips. His intensity had you short of breath; this ethereal man, the Crown Prince, was looking down at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. 

With a tight, high whine, your second high of the night crashed into you, fingers tightening in his hair again. Your shared gaze did not break as he quickly followed you over his own peak, his mouth dropping open and brows creasing in pleasure.

When you both came back down to earth, neither of you let the other go, bodies tired and satiated, the warmth of the fire lulling you both into a sleepy state. Your time together would be cut short soon, you knew, but you let yourself bask in peace for now. 

His whisper cut through the quiet like thunder, “One day, I will have you. My promises are not empty. I will move mountains to have you by my side. I will do anything, my love.”

You could hear the tension in his voice, the tears gathering at his water line. Shifting up, you pressed your lips to his to silence him. “Will you stay, then?”

He smiled, the dying flames beside you dancing in his eyes. “Always, for you.”

In the aftermath, wrapped soundly in his arms, you let yourself believe.

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