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#you could see how much the match meant to him
artdcnaldson · 18 hours
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NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit
This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other
A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)
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“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”
You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”
Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.
Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.
“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.
“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”
“How?” Patrick asked.
Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”
Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.
With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.
“What?” You asked with a frown.
“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”
You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.
His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.
The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.
Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.
Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”
You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.
“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.
Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.
And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.
Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.
You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”
“Good,” Patrick said.
At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”
Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.
“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.
Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”
You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.
He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”
You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.
“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”
Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.
Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.
Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.
You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.
“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”
You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.
He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”
Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”
You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.
“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”
Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.
He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.
And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.
And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”
Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.
Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.
“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”
He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.
Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.
Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.
Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.
“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.
“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.
They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”
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silverwarewolf · 1 day
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DUNGEON MESHI EPISODE 24 THOUGHTS
Oh, I had asked to see what the party's thoughts regarding the changeling situation were, especially when it came to their lifespans, but I didn't think it would turn out like this!
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GOOD FUCKING JOB, CHILCHUCK. YOU'VE TRAUMATIZED MARCILLE EVEN FURTHER. Oh but I do so love the horrors of this situation of theirs. Marcille babygirl I would like to hug you and have a nice chat.
Anywya, on we go to think about Falin and any solutions that might help us here. Which is great! I love how much foreshadowing there is (in terms of what I've been vaguely told about the manga).
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Laios Touden's problem solving skills, everyone.
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That's honestly the SICKEST weapon design, I'm so on board with you Laios. This could be Kensuke's Halloween makeover. BUT DONT JUST TAKE THOSE MUSHROOMS WITH YOU OH MY GOD
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... was this the opening sequence foreshadowing everyone was freaking out about? was that it? (don't actually tell me, though. if it was it, say yes. if it wasn't, don't say anything)
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no comment here I just love them.
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I just will never get used to elfshi's hands being Like That. But it's also kinda nice to see him and Izutsumi working along so nicely! Like, don't even get me started on how Izu is presented as the pickiest eater of the party (Marcille has been dethroned severely) and usually you'd see that presented as a Hassle, but here in DM, Senshi doesn't even bat an eye. He knows and respects Izutsumi's tastes and preferences and works his meals out around it! That's such a based thing for him to do. <3
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This is a renaissance painting. (I love it when they adapt Ryoko Kui's visual gags and I LOVE when she does zoomed in faces like this. Truly one of the artists ever)
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I did not have "Laios gets Pissed On" on my bingo card but every day I grow more and more convinced that the animators KNOW what they're doing and - OH MY GOD IS THAT SENSHI'S DWUSSY. ELFSHI ALTERNATIVE TO PANTY SHOT.
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Ah, yes, Izutsumi sprawls all over them when sleeping, we been knew, again it's a little unexpected to see it front and center but I guess it works to demonstrate them returning to - THAT WAS LAIOS??? AND CHILCHUCK IS JUST LIFTING HIS LEG LIKE THAT?? OKAY THEN. SURE.
(and then there's a few more seconds of laiosfoot and laios bedhead)
BUT HEY THEY'RE BACK TO NORMAL
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1) Yep, they're back to normal.
2) Laios I love you and I love Gothsuke but someone needs to be careful about biohazards and it's not going to be you.
3) Add this to the "Marcille Donato gets threateningly close to you in three steps" folder.
4) Truly only they can match each other's freak. When the NECROMANCER is telling you not to do something, don't do it! I know last time you smuggled a "normal" sword, it turned out to be useful, but I'm sure that's not the case here!
5) Poor Laios tho. I'll learn to blacksmith just to give you a cool sword. <3
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I'm so glad they kept this. One of the silliest touden siblings moments. 10/10 no notes. Also, Falin is never beating the blunt force trauma allegations.
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IS THAT CHILCHUCK'S WIFE. ARE YOU - MA'AM. HELLO?
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"Why aren't you a twink like I thought you'd be?!" gets adapted! (I'm pretty sure that's the scene meant to be here, anyways)
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I get it, girl.
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Oh dear, they're going to eat Falin. And SENSHI was the one to suggest it! For a guy who was just fighting the doubts of accidental cannibalism a week ago, you're taking bold steps forward.
(I do love how it mirrors Laios' kindness back then, in truth. Even if it's an idea so shocking and dire at first, it comes from a place of reason and logic and love)
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Marcille "I said I wanted to eat her OUT, not eat HER" Donato Izutsumi "That's going to taste gross as fuck" Izutsumi Chilchuck "If it brings her back..." Tims Laios Touden, the man with a thousand things on his head right now, two of which I reckon are "I don't want to eat my sister" and "Dragon-Chicken... what might it taste like?"
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Yes, well. Valid as your concerns are, Laios, because how the fuck would five people eat THAT much meat, you can't just ramble on about what dishes you're going to make out of your sister.
(...I get it, though. I mean if you're going to eat, might as well make it good, right? I know no one wants to grill one of Faligon's ribs but I'll go ahead and say it would be worse to tell them to eat her raw)
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FUCK! we DID lose those scenes about the twin bell that toshiro kept!! forever sad about that.
oh my godddd they're going back into the dungeonnn we're going to reunite with themmm
I know they're really fucking competent, I mean, Namari and Toshiro are already described as pretty formidable warriors (and we've seen it), and Kabru is... admittedly much more geared to fight humans but he's a decent fighter either way. And a good leader!
Speaking of, where the fuck is everyone else.
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I know they're meant to be scary (and I suppose they are! If we have the reference that, firstly, marcille is an excellent spellcaster so these elves could be just as good in their own areas of expertise, yes?, and secondly, the canaries are Well Known)
... plus, Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them. Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them.
BUT damn it Lycion, I need to- (gets dragged off stage)
Anyway, while we wait for the next season (WHICH HAS BEEN GREENLIT! WOHOO!), have these wonderful images of chicken falin being a cathedral painting (...if cathedrals ever added dragons, i guess) and my beloveds, who have finally returned!
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dolicekiss · 3 days
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Hey,
could you please write a yandere Hannibal one-shot, where the reader is one of Bedelia‘s ex patients/friends and Will‘s best friend. Will soon knows Hannibal is interested in her,( after she met him,while dropping of Will for therapy) and tries to ^save^ her from him. However Hannibal again has his way and maybe it ebds with smut?
a/n: ohmygod i was literally about to write a yandere nigel but this is even better, especially knowing how manipulative hannibal can be !! also, i hope i do this justice, thanks :D
Famished
PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Gullible, mentally disturbed female reader.
WARNINGS: smut (18+ only, minors dni) unprotected sex, manipulative hannibal, oral (female receiving) fingering, yandere hannibal, mention of drugging, mentally disturbed reader and traumatized, taking advantage (hannibal is cooking up plans) slight breeding kink, reader is very gullible <3 that's all
SUMMARY: After dropping Will Graham to his therapy session and having a run in with his prominent, renowned psychiatrist — Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you become the object of his infatuation and obsession. It is in his best interests to make you fall for him, make you his. Whether it is by his cunning manipulation tactics or his alluring charms.
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For the first time ever, Hannibal Lecter found himself lost and in a puzzled position.
He was at a loss of words for the immense amount of adoration and awe swelling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on you — which was rare. As you only came by when you had to drop your best friend, Will Graham to his office. It wasn't in your daily routine, as you had other things in life that required your attention but whenever you were available and whenever Will needed your help, you were there.
Because he was there when you needed someone.
Hannibal’s brain was quick to recognize you though, after seeing an old file of yours in Bedelia’s office, with your picture inside. It had all your details and Hannibal felt as if it was meant to be. He'd read your file, in the absence of Bedelia. Completely out of character for even someone like him but he knew you.
He knew all of you.
The exchange of pearly smiles between you and Will when he first introduced you to Hannibal was not very pleasing to the eye for the blonde male. Aggravated but hiding behind the mask of politeness, he only returned those smiles and then watched you leave his office.
That same night, both Hannibal and Will were restless. Will because he had noticed the curiosity awakening in Hannibal’s impassive gaze when he took note of you and Hannibal laid restless because of the uneasiness felt ever since you had left his office. He had this, insatiable urge, he felt —famished.
And only you could satiate that hunger of his.
“Hannibal, you appear lost.” Bedelia commented, the dullness of her office somehow matching his own. The two shared similar tastes, no wonder he was associated with her.
He lifted his gaze up from the red carpet covering the entirety of her floor, fingers tucked understand his chin. He was indeed lost, lost in you. Like an alligator, you had consumed him whole and he slightly twitched in the seat.
Hannibal had a plan.
This was the plan.
“I had a run in with one of Will’s associates, who also used to be your patient.” He responded, bitterly referring to you as his associate instead of his friend because even the idea of that burned him with such envy and jealousy.
Will didn't deserve you.
Not as his friend, not as something else.
Bedelia crossed her leg, staring at him with certain curiosity. “I do not break doctor patient confidentiality.”
“I'm aware.” Hannibal responded as quickly as he could, eyeing the woman. His presence was heavy and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. Nothing missed him, not even the subtle details and minorities of life.
He noticed everything.
Hannibal laid his hands on his lap, mimicking Bedelia as he crossed his leg over the other but with much more authority. “Why did you stop seeing her?”
Bedilia scoffed. “I didn't stop seeing her, she told me her mind had healed. That she didn't need me anymore, that she was fine.” Her voice was laced with subtle bitterness at how you interrupted their sessions. Bedelia felt like she was being called incompetent indirectly by you.
That was all Hannibal needed.
This time you dropped Will off again but this time, he seemed evidently upset with the idea of you running in with Hannibal Lecter again. It was weird to you, how he acted when it came to you crossing paths with his psychiatrist. Hell, you'd even made a joke about not snatching the handsome doctor away from Will.
But he only responded with a sour face, definitely not impressed with your horrible attempt at a joke.
As he exited the car and headed for his office, you watched him but then your eyes captured a wallet and a phone right where Will was sitting. He'd left his belongings behind. You let out a sigh, contemplating whether to give them to him now or later. You didn't care that your bestfriend acted all sour at the mention of crossing paths with Hannibal.
He was uncomfortable with the idea of you meeting his own psychiatrist, now that was weird. You left the car too, with the items in your hand and headed inside. Air chilly against your skin, you smiled at how its soft hands caressed your skin, prickling it slightly but you basked in the feeling.
As you reached the door, you knocked on it and waited for someone to open it. It was peeled open and there stood Hannibal, and a smile broke when he caught you standing there. Cladded in a long coat, which concealed a casual dress behind it. His gaze took you in, drank you like the most finest wine and then he captured the familiar wallet and phone in your hand.
He'd seen it one too many times in the hand of his patient.
“Here to return his belongings, I assume?”
You nodded your head. “He forgot these.”
Extending out your hand with Will’s things in your hand, the door was pulled open more revealing another figure. Will stared at you, a look of annoyance on his face when he found you standing there. He'd told you, even subtly warned you to not ever come to Hannibal’s office but here you were. Breaking the only rule that he presented before you.
You rolled your eyes at Will, his behavior abnormal and different than usual was something you didn't appreciate at all.
Hannibal took the things from you and then handed them over to Will. “I'll take my leave then, goodbye.”
Just like that, you were out of the towering presence of those two. God, was it only your imagination or did it actually feel suffocating being in their presence together — especially after Will had warned you off basically to not come in front of Hannibal Lecter ever. The way he smiled at you, it was sweet but for some reason, goosebumps woke up on your skin.
You shook your head, went home and after a warm shower, curled up in your bed. An attempt to sleep, for the umpteenth time but everytime you rested your eyes, that same nightmare haunted you once more. Adding a new digit to the list as it did. Reminding you of the darkness that would always stay within you. Rooted inside you.
The blood soaked hands, the screams, the shattering of glass — it replayed over and over again. Like a film that was lagging a lot, hesitating to go forward, so all you could do was rewind and watch that same scene over and over.
You woke up, drenched in sweat. Chest heavy and lungs desperate to drag in as much air as they could. It was all too vivid, like it had happened today and not years before when you were only a little girl.
It wasn't easy living with the fact that you had been spared by your kidnapper while he slaughtered your friend, right before your very gaze. You didn't deem it worth it, didn't find yourself worthy enough to be alive, instead of her.
If he'd only killed you too.
— ♡ —
The next day Will had told you he'd pick you up from your house and take you somewhere, somewhere where he could discuss something important with you. It baffled you when the man pulled up to his own house, the irony of it leaving you with certain uneasiness.
“Will, just tell me. Are you jealous?”
That could be the only reason.
He stayed silent, not answering your question before letting out a sigh of what you assumed to be frustration. He shook his head, fingers scurrying to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Eyebrows furrowed and curls resting against his forehead.
“You need to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. He is a dangerous man, a sadist, a cunning bastard.” You blinked at all the profanities Will Graham was suddenly using to describe his own psychiatrist.
You had no idea of his little plan to play along with Hannibal to catch him so this whole situation was extremely uncomfortable for you.
“You're making that up.” You accused him, with a shake of your hand to dimiss his accusations. “If he was such a cunning bastard, he wouldn't be your psychiatrist.”
“Listen to me.” Will’s voice was dangerously low, frustration obvious in it. “Just do what I'm saying. Don't linger around him, don't even drop me off anymore.”
The water was slowly boiling over your heads and it could spill at any moment. Tension rose in the room and you, with your adamant personality, didn't give in. You wanted— no, you needed to know this. Just what the fuck was going on and why were you being kept in the dark?
It made you feel hopeless and almost sad, because to you it seemed as the only paddle in your life didn't really trust you.
“First, stop hiding shit from me. I'm your fucking bestfriend, Will. Just tell me—”
The loud noise of his palms slamming down on the wooden table in his living room made you flinch. Your body jumping as you let out a shriek at the loud noise, not very fond of them ever since the traumatizing event from your childhood. You hadn't expected him to react like this, especially with such aggression.
“Just stay the fuck away from Hannibal Lecter. That's all I'm asking you to do, you can't even do that?” Eyebrows scrunched and disappointment swirling behind those specs of his, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his tone, words and his unexplainable behavior.
It all overwhelmed you to the core.
Then a knock interrupted you both.
Will and you turned around and found Hannibal standing behind the net door, his aura slicing through the heavy tension that hung like a knife on your heads. You composed yourself, hands with a tremor reaching out to fix the few loose strands of your messy bun.
You swallowed thickly — once more put in a situation where you had to pretend to be fine for someone else. All because of your own bestfriend.
The fact made you vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. To the point Hannibal would smell it off you and it gave him the perfect opportunity, laid out on a damn silver platter. Awaiting to be devoured.
“What're you doing here, Hannibal?”
Hannibal’s gaze exchanged between the two of you, pretending as if he wasn't just standing outside eavesdropping on your conversation. It was evident on your face that you wanted to leave, as soon as you could but without Will’s help, you couldn't actually leave. His fucking house was in the middle of nowhere and he was your only ride.
You wrapped an arm around yourself instinctively, a habit you'd adapted to when you were little. In a silly little attempt to protect yourself from the harm you faced as a child.
“Had to discuss something about a case but I guess I chose the wrong timing?” His gaze trailed over you and he took notice of the way your chest fell and rose, how you stood there as if you were cornered and scared, your own arm wrapped around you in a sense to provide the comfort you ached for.
You seemed so perfect like this.
On the verge of breaking.
“I'll be outside.” You didn't even bother grabbing your coat, only reached for the door and left without sparing them both a glance.
The cold hit you like a damn truck, shivers dancing across your spine. Regret consumed you about not grabbing your coat from Will’s hanger but you were too stubborn to go back inside and take it. So you chose to suffer in the cold, sitting by the stairs, staring ahead into the darkness the forest and the night had to offer you.
You thought about Will. His behavior, how he'd spoken to you despite knowing your history and it pained you but as usual, you suppressed it. Your pain didn't matter, how could it matter when you were lucky enough to be left alive while your own friend was slaughtered like some fucking animal?
Knees glued to your chest, you didn't know for how long you stayed there but you felt someone put a coat on you. Your body was quick to absorb the warmth it had to offer and you lifted your head up, hoping you'd find Will but instead Hannibal had shown you more decency than your own friend.
‘Cunning bastard, this?’ You thought.
“Thank you.” You held the coat tightly around your shoulder and noticed it wasn't yours, it was his own. Hannibal had given you his own coat and the bare minimum action, the simple act of kindness, it all was enough to worsen the situation for you right now.
For Hannibal, this was perfect.
You were the perfect prey.
He knew Will would react the way he had — his emotional outbursts were bound to get aggressive and he wanted Will to be on thin ice around you. To make you cautious of him, so that your lonely heart will begin searching for another companion.
Him.
“Your car isn't in the driveway, which means Will is going to drop you off.” He said and stared ahead at the empty space next to Will’s car. “But I suppose you don't really wish to be in his presence right now.”
You slowly nodded.
He was a psychiatrist, a witty one at that. There was no point in lying to the man as you tightened the coat around you. His scent bringing along a sense of comfort. It was warm, a little like nature itself.
“If you allow me, I can drop you off.”
Hannibal extended his hand out, staring down at you and you looked at his hand, then him. It was a moment of silence but help was offered and you slowly slipped your hand into his, as he raised you up from the ground. The touch of your hand, being this fucking fortunate enough to be able to feel you flesh to flesh, Hannibal was over the moon. An itch growing in his thumb to run it lightly over the skin of your knuckles but he somehow with the power of a celestial being restrained himself.
Your perfume had branded his skin.
You had branded his skin.
He lead you to his car and you sat inside, all the while Will watched from his window. There was only so much he could do but he knew that Hannibal’s charm was difficult, nearly impossible to resist. Whether he visited in the form of archangel azrael, a companion or a foe.
He was still going to be in control.
The car ride was silent when it began. Your gaze lingering over the passing street lamps, blurring in your vision as a lone tear slid down your cheek. Akin to the person you were, lonely and isolated.
“I could sense the tension in the air.” Hannibal’s soft voice sliced through the silence. “Are you alright?”
You turned to him and nodded. “Just a small misunderstanding, that is all.”
It was, infact, not a misunderstanding. Hannibal knew why you seemed this heartbroken, about the incident that occurred to you as a child, about Will’s outburst and how it terrified you.
Like a ripe fruit, you were all raw and vulnerable. Ready to be consumed by him, to be savored by him, to get rid of his insatiable hunger.
Hannibal believed he could fix you — by not fixing you at all. A broken masterpiece you were and he'd be damned if he tried to put back the pieces together. He preferred the picture he saw right now more.
“He should not have raised his voice at you.”
Your gaze lifted up. “You heard it?”
He nodded, while swiftly taking a turn into a street. “I did not mean to pry, my deepest apologies. I managed to arrive exactly at the time when he was having his outburst.”
“It's fine.” Your head hung low as you played with your fingers in your lap. Hannibal noticed, writing it down in his little mental diary he'd kept in his head. “I don't understand why he behaved the way he did. It was, upsetting.”
You mumbled the last word, shaking your head. Hannibal glanced your way. “You were under Bedelia's care, no?”
By now, you'd come to know that the two were friends and knew each other. But deep down you hoped that they hadn't discussed you like some curse, like some ugly freak who magically survived a cruel man while her friend got swallowed.
“Yes.” You whispered. “Her ways to heal the human mind are, peculiar.”
To be honest, Bedelia seemed like a woman who cared more about the influence and power she had on you than your well-being and that feeling of forced incompetence along with other things became the reason of your end with her.
Hannibal chuckled, barely.
It was just there and you heard it for a single moment. “Did you not find her treatment appropriate?”
“I didn't deem her fit to be my doctor,” you picked at the skin around your nails out of habit. “honestly, I don't find anyone fit to be my doctor.”
There was silence.
But Hannibal soon spoke. “Could the feeling that only you're capable of understanding your mind because of you going through what you did be the cause of this?”
Jesus, the man was spot on.
It slightly unnerved you.
“Are you analyzing me, Dr. Lecter?” There was soft sarcasm your voice was laced with as you smiled.
The man stared straight ahead. “Maybe, would you mind allowing me to analyze you at my office over a glass of wine?”
You knew you couldn't go back to your lonely house, especially after the remnants of Will’s behavior affecting you the way they did. The sound of his palms slamming down on the wood echoed in the back of your mind and you had no other option than to agree to Hannibal’s offer.
But poor you, it was all part of his plan.
He'd read your file, thoroughly, well aware of your triggers and your mind. How it worked processed things, he knew it all and the wicked man used it to his advantage. To lure you in like a prince charming only to shift into a hideous beast.
When you made it to his office, the man had offered you the finest of wine. The most expensive one, all the way from Florence and you could practically taste italy in the bottle — delicious, warm and fruity. You reveled in each sip as you sat across the man on his table, flipping through a book about the human mind.
You enjoyed reading books, found solace in them and Hannibal had all the more to offer.
“I can't believe you've got these many books.” You pointed out, lifting your eyes up at the man who was now coming down from the ladder with multiple books in his arms. It was sweet how he was offering you his book, his wine, his company because somewhere he knew you needed it.
Loneliness was a slow death.
Poison so bitter but painful, it tore you apart piece by piece.
He ambled his way towards you, taking a seat on the chair and placing the books right in front of you on the table. “These are nothing. I own a library too.”
Your eyes widened. “You're kidding.”
Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at how your eyes expanded in sheer shock, his lips expressing a small smile. You seemed akin to a child in that moment, innocent and appalled by the idea.
“No, dear. I'm fortunately not.” He replied, hands settled on the table. “I could take you there.”
“I'd love to go.” You were quick to reply back but then composed yourself a little, not wanting to come across as desperate. You began coursing through the book, reading the contents of it simultaneously sipping your wine.
Then Hannibal spoke. “You seem disturbed, dear.”
You stopped reading and looked at him, with a confused expression before realizing what he meant. Will’s behavior had left you in a great deal of confusion as well as underlined fear. It was stomach churning, when you remembered how dark his eyes were or how angry he appeared. All too similar to the fragments of the man that had abducted you during you childhood.
“He reminded me of him.” You blunted out, not really caring anymore to conceal your emotions and fears. It had to be how vulnerable you were seeming, craving human companionship and attention. To be comforted and reassured that nothing was wrong with you.
Hannibal leaned forward. “Of who?”
“The man who took me.” Your fingertip danced over the stamped ink on the beige piece of paper, gaze following along the letters and lines. “Every aggressive man reminds me of him.”
“Your fear of aggressive men stems from your childhood, as one had taken you. It is no surprise you'd feel uneasiness in Will’s presence now.” Hannibal was right. These heightened emotions of fear and discomfort would only consume you if you continued seeing Will in the light that he had presented himself in.
He was your friend. Your best friend, the man who was always there — to be your paddle and to be your pillar but now you were scared of him. Of everything, the whole situation to stay away from Hannibal. You were right in his office and so far, he had brought you no harm at all.
Only provided you with company.
“He told me to stay away from you.” The lump in your throat began to grow. If you had a gut feeling, it had definitely melted in the presence of Hannibal. Blinded by his charm and his long blonde strands hovering over his forehead. “It was confusing, Dr. Lecter. It was— too much. He repeated it like a broken record, over and over again. Ordered me even and I don't understand why he was telling me to be this cautious when you're his psychiatrist.”
Hannibal and you made eye contact, for a brief moment before you averted your gaze from him, lacking the courage to look straight into his penetrating eyes.
“Will is unstable.” Hannibal stated, as he caressed his own hand with the fingers of the other. “I have no intention to ruin the camaraderie you both have but his attempt to kill me tells me enough about his mind.”
Your eyes expanded.
Will tried to do what?
And the fact that Hannibal seemed so unbothered about it and continued seeking him as a patient. It was like Bedelia’s case all over again, except hers actually ended meanwhile Hannibal continued giving Will his time and effort.
“But why? I don't get it and you're still seeing him—just, what is going on?” Stressed and frustrated, feeling like you were being kept in the dark, you brought your fingers upto your forehead and began massaging it. It was too much for you, especially when you had your own battles to fight.
Hannibal reached for you, his own hand placed above yours. In silent comfort. “Will is my friend, or so I see him as one. He's unstable and his acts of impulsivity are my responsibility to fix although—”
He stopped and tilted his head. “I can see it is beginning to affect you too.”
You sighed, as you didn't remove your hand from underneath his. Only watching him with a gaze clouded in confusion. This was all like plates shattering over and over on the top of your head and still there is no bleeding, only the throbbing pain that increased with time.
Maybe Hannibal was right.
He was his doctor after all. Will appeared unstable, especially after his behavior tonight and the complexity of the situation terrified you.
“It is humiliating to be flesh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished all your wine. The sound of Hannibal’s chair scraping against the floor caught your attention and you watched as he rose up from his seat and walked towards you. In his hand was a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from his table.
He stood next to you, placing the sketchbook over your book and then leaning down. The close proximity should've made you uncomfortable, should've sent you scurrying out of his office but because of how gentle he was, you didn't budge. “Open it.”
Your fingers with a subtle tremor in them reached for the crisp edge of the sketchbook and you flipped it open revealing the art of pencils. Humans, bodies, organs, they were all presented to beautifully and you looked up at Hannibal.
Face a few inches apart.
“You made this?”
He nodded.
You flipped through a few more and resisted the urge to caress the face of the greek personalities he'd drawn. They were so beautiful, as beautiful as him and you didn't find yourself uncomfortable like how you expected you would when laying eyes upon the more —gruesome part of his art.
It was beautiful.
“This is truly spectacular.” You commented in a whisper as you raised your stare from the sketches and looked up at him. Your lips were only a few inches apart and Hannibal found himself completely captivated by you. The sheer vulnerability and raw pain in your gaze was tugging him towards his arousal, undeniable and strong for you.
He swallowed as his dark eyes took in the sight of your lips.
And you repeated his actions, staring at his lips in return.
It all happened too fast. He'd kissed you, hand reaching to brush the hair behind your shoulder, then moving to grasp your face in it as he delved deeper. Hannibal was holding back so much, concealing the animal that he was from you, hiding beneath the cloak of a gentle demeanor and a beautiful face. His thumbs swiped over your cheek in gentle brush strokes as he pried your lips open, inserting his tongue.
Draping it around your own, the kiss grew intense and this was the first time you'd ever gotten involved with a man like this. It was too inundating but it also felt extremely good as you had denied yourself this pleasure for so long.
Hannibal’s hands slithered down to your waist, to circle around it curve of it as he raised you from the chair, lifting you up to place you down on the table. Still your height couldn't accommodate with his, neck craned up to kiss him. He soon broke the kiss, forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath mingled with yours.
“It is not humiliating to be flesh, rather special and profound.” He whispered, in response to your sentence from earlier as you gazed up at him. Eyes clouded by desire as your heart swelled with finally feeling like you were being understood. Hannibal understood you.
The connection you felt with him was intense.
The man leaned, and you expected him to kiss you again but this time he chose to attack your neck, peppering kisses all over the unmarked skin. His hands rested by your side, fingers digging into the wooden desk to keep the monster inside him at bay. He was too overwhelmed by his wanton for you but you were a fragile little thing.
He couldn't scare you, not yet.
His teeth dug into your skin, biting and tugging like some beast and you winced in response. It felt good but it was something you hadn't tried with anyone before. You've had sex before— one boy and he was nowhere near the same level as Hannibal. Just by biting on your skin, the man had you squirming.
“If Will finds out—”
He silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Will shouldn't care. You're a mature, independent, grown woman. You know what you want, don't you?”
You nodded.
He was treating you like an adult, rather than some broken little doll. But that was Hannibal’s play, he knew that you craved the validation, you wanted to get treated like an adult and not some damaged person. After being in therapy, people almost treated you as you were some mentally unstable person who didn't know what she wanted. A broken, deranged person what didn't know better.
Hannibal made you feel differently, in such a short amount of time.
“So beautiful.” He whispered, as his fingers moved to the buttons of your dress. He unbuttoned each, swiftly proving that he was an experienced man and then his hands rose up to your shoulders, slipping the dress off and exposing the bare skin.
Your breath hitched and in a couple of minutes, Hannibal had completely rid you of any clothes. His own blazer soon came off, followed by his tie and then his shirt. Before you could reach for the buckle of his dress pants, he scoped you up in his arms and took you over to the couch. Lips pressed against yours, he bit harshly on your lower lip, enough to draw blood and somehow you enjoyed this aggressive manner of his kissing.
He laid you down on the couch and crawled on top of you, his knee settled between your thighs. You whimpered upon contact with his clothed knee as he traveled down, while leaving kissing against your skin, face buried between your thighs. The man held you open to his lascivious gaze, pressing a soft kiss against your clit causing you to shudder. Your thighs twitched in response and he loved how your body responded to his touch.
You were a delicious fucking sight.
He licked a long stripe across your cunt and your back lifted off the couch in anticipation. Hannibal pushed you back down, both his hands holding you firmly down on the couch, his arm prying your thighs further open. Closing his lips around your clit, he sucked feverishly and you cried out. It felt too fucking good.
One hand released you, dropping between your legs. His fingers ran up and down your cunt, coating themselves in the slick of your arousal and then slowly, he added a finger into you. He was gentle with it and stared up at you, mouth still continuing its assault on your clit while holding eye contact. Tears danced on your waterline, waiting for that one single push to slide down in rivulets on your face.
His finger picked up its pace then he added another. Your wet walls clung tightly onto his fingers, pulling them in and he reveled in all the little sounds you and your body kade. The whimpers you released, the wet sounds of your greedy pussy and the ragged breathing escaping you.
“How do you feel, Darling? How good am I making you feel with just my mere fingers?”
Hannibal’s voice had fallen a few octaves lower, deep and rough. You parted your lips open to speak but the wicked man curved his finger and your lips only let out a gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He grinned at your reaction. “Answer me.”
You swallowed down another whine threatening to run out of your throat. “It feels amazing, Hannibal. Just —so good.”
He added a third finger and curved them altogether, hitting them against the little sponge of pleasure inside you, rapidly and with increasing speed. Your hands traveled down to grip on his golden strands, fisting them as he continued licking across your cunt and fucking you with his fingers.
Then he stopped.
Dropping all his movement.
His tongue replaced his fingers causing you to buck your hips in anticipation and need, aching for more. Hannibal was feasting on you and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was beyond it. Not possessing any sort of self control anymore.
Fingernails digging into the side of your hips, he dragged them down into your skin as he hungrily ate you out. Tongue plunging in and out of your tiny hole, licking and savoring the taste of you. You were fucking sweet, heavenly and delicious. Hannibal’s mind was clouded by his lust, his ache for you. How he wished he could trap you inside thess walls of his office, of his home and never let you out ever again.
Even the sun and moon didn't deserve to capture the sight of you.
“Hannibal, I'm close.” You whined, thighs shaking as your stomach churned with a foreign feeling. It was going to be fucking intense, you knew it because of how much you were shaking.
He looked up at you. “Come for me, Darling. Make a mess.”
Your stomach clenched and twisted at his words and you soon unfurled underneath him. Thighs suffering from perpetual convulsions and eyes seeing white, rolling to the back of your head. Blood pumping in your chest, spreading like wildfire in your veins as your forehead perspired. The searing pain from your tight grip on his hair only hardened his cock, as it stirred against his thighs. Hannibal reveled in the pain you inflicted upon him.
He rose up from between your legs and your overstimulated pussy throbbed at the sight of him. Your orgasm dripped down his chin, plump lips glossy and covered in the juices you'd produced. Face messy and flushed, he stared back at you with a hazy look in his darkened eyes.
When you came down from your high, you found Hannibal completely naked. Long gone were his dress pants and underwear and your were taken aback at the length of his cock as well as the girth. The first and last time you slept with someone, their size was nowhere the same as Hannibal. The drastic change was slightly overwhelming for you, it even terrified you a little.
He took a seat on the couch, at the end of your feet and then pulled you up, settling you on top of his thighs. Holding you in his muscular arms, the man held the tip of his cock against your hole and then slowly sat you down.
You head fell against his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Being able to feel him like this, sinking all the way down to the hilt, you could only whimper. Hannibal made you feel so full and it was only the beginning.
You felt his fingers trapping your cheeks between them, as he pulled your face out of its hiding spot. Four fingers resting on one side while his thumb squeezed the other. Tears sprung out, sliding across your cheeks and crashing into his digits. You sniffled as he stared at you. Eyes lacking emotions and face still. Hannibal was a man who possessed immense control over himself, he couldn't give away his obsession for you.
“You will look at me.” He commanded, voice thick with need. “As I fuck your little cunt and make you unravel on my cock, you will not move your gaze away from me. Understood?”
You could only nod.
His grip tightened on your cheeks and you winced, lips forming a forced pout. You knew what that little act meant and you parted your lips, managing to mumble out, “Yes, I understand.”
Hannibal nodded, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes as he released your face. Both hands now settled on your hips, he began to move you up and down with your help. You gasped every time you felt his cock graze against your wet wells, the feeling consuming your ability to think. Your nails managed to draw blood from his skin but Hannibal didn't care. He wanted you to leave more marks, brand him as his, make him yours.
Oh he was already yours.
“Move, Darling.” You started to move too, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down on him. Over and over again, it was repetitive and Hannibal’s face was full of pleasure. His grip tight and firm on your hips, almost as if he were trying to seperate the flesh from the bone.
But you liked it.
He held you like he didn't want you to disappear.
You fucking loved that.
You both stared into each other's eyes, Hannibal’s domineering stare overpowering yours an you nearly made the grave mistake of shutting your eyes but the little pinch on your waist made you peel them back open as fast as you closed them.
“Don't be disobedient now. I expected better from you.” You could sense the disappointment in his voice and you shook your head, still riding his cock and clenching around him everytime you felt his tip bruise your sensitive spot.
You stared at him, through a blurred vision. “You're intimidating—” You sputtered, the sentence breaking. “when you stare at me like this, its intimidating.”
“Do I scare you?”
You shook your head. “No, you're beautiful.”
That was enough to cause Hannibal to become a mess. Fuck, he was all over the place and unfortunate enough for you, you couldn't see it but the man was a mess on the inside. The skipped beating of his heart, the way his eyes were almost turned into little crescents, the smile lines appearing for a split moment before vanishing.
You felt him press his lips against yours, this time in a rough kiss. Arms circled tightly around you. He kissed you like a wild beast having its feast, enjoying its food. His teeth grazed against yours when you opened your mouth, lips against lips, tongue dancing with tongue. Salivas mixing together, it was too messy and you felt the mixed saliva dripping down your chin. He lapped at your wet muscle, sucking on it.
All the while he slammed you down on his hard cock and you let out a high pitched whine into his mouth. That action alone was enough for his cock to harden even more inside you, his hands now unwrapping from your waist and toying with your bare breasts.
“Such a tight little pussy—” He grunted, head thrown back. “so fucking tight.”
Fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and massaging the soft flesh. The searing kiss, the sensitive touch of his fingers against your breasts, the slow and rough thrusts of his cock — all of it combined pulled you near another orgasm.
Your toes curled at each thrust and then Hannibal switched the position, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you with his cock still inside you. Grabbing you by your ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and began to fuck you at an animalistic pace.
“Hanni—" You cried out, lips agape and tears continuously falling down.
He didn't stop. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, a snarl making its way to his face and that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. To the point it made you tighten around him. “You're mine. You're mine to fuck, mine to claim, mine to own and possess.”
You took those words as something said in the heat of the moment but Hannibal? Oh he was serious. He meant each and every word, every syllable came straight from the darkness in his heart.
His hips snapped and your stomach went crazy into knots. “Please, please. Harder, please Hannibal.”
You were crying out for him at this point. Your hand reaching out to touch his chest but he didn't allow you, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head on the couch. Bending your knees to the point they were pushed against your chest, his face grew closer to yours. Staring deeply into your soul and that moment felt intimate more than anything you'd ever experienced in the world.
“My pretty Darling.”
You swallowed.
Just his dark gaze. You could live your whole life while being captured in those obsidian eyes.
Snaps growing relentless, he kept fucking you till you came all over his cock. Your orgasm slipping out in the form of liquid, making a mess everywhere. Staining his couch, his chest, his cock. Leaving evidence of the sexual encounter between the two of you in a moment. Hannibal let out a chuckle — deep and soft. Music from heaven to your ears.
You almost ascended to heaven from how good it felt. His cock still thrusting up against your cervix, bruising your spot and continuing its assault. Your sensitive body hadn't even calmed down, still twitching and shivering but Hannibal didn't seem it fit to stop.
A low growl rumbled from his chest as the sound of skin against skin grew, reverberating against the walls of his office. With a loud groan, he also spilled inside you. Coating your walls white, throbbing and pulsating inside you. Filling you up to the brim and he didn't care if you were to get pregnant.
Hannibal was a father once.
To his little sister Mischa.
He wouldn't mind having a child of his own, especially with you.
He fucking loved filling you up and he'd make sure to do it again. After all, you were his now.
The man slowly adjusted himself underneath you on the couch, making you lay on top of his to the side. Arms wrapping tightly around you, he held you pressed against his chest as you came down from your high. His hand brushing your hair gently, caressing your forehead.
Only the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard, mixed with the soft uneven rhythms of your breathing. You couldn't believe you'd slept with Hannibal, right after your best friend had a literal outburst about it. Guilt took over and you slowly sat up, grabbing Hannibal’s shirt from the floor to cover yourself up with it.
“You're thinking.” He commented.
You looked at him and sighed. “I have this guilt consuming me.”
Hannibal reached over, brushing your hair behind. Playing with the strands. “Why's that?”
“Will is unstable, and I have been there too. I should have heard him out instead of running away from him.” You sighed, shoulders slumped. Hannibal didn't like that, he didn't like that you were feeling bad now. After all he'd done, he couldn't have you feeling bad for Will.
“You reacted according to your trauma, it is completely valid. You were in a situation where you didn't feel safe, so you removed yourself from it.” Thumb caressing against your cheek, he smiled. It was subtle. “You should prioritize yourself more often.”
Somewhere Hannibal was right too.
You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. Then you felt a stinging sensation in the back of your nape. It hurt but it wasn't extreme, like something had pierced you. Just then you looked up and saw Hannibal already staring at you.
Your vision became distorted.
“Hannibal..?” You called out, confused and in a daze. “What's happening?”
“Go to sleep, Darling. You'll be alright soon enough.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fear filled you up. Just what was happening? The man held you in his embrace, caressing your cheek as you slowly lost all control of your limbs and fell against his chest.
Darkness dragged you in, from your feet and the last thing you remembered was seeing Hannibal with a syringe in his hand.
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theanimeroom · 3 days
Note
Thinking about Sae pressing himself into you as you talk in the phone with your friend, gasping as he wraps his arms around you ♡♡
okay okay so here’s my take on this one right here brother ☝🏽
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everyone knew how itoshi sae was. cold, ruthless, emotionally constipated, if you will. he wants the type of person to really care for one’s feelings or sentiments, yet he cared about you.
you were the only thing in his life aside from soccer that he would go to hell and back for, rather than just letting it slip away from him. you were his release on a stressful day, his breath of fresh air when he felt like he was suffocating. the smell of your shampoo staining his bed didn’t leave him feeling agitated, nor did the random texts and calls checking in on him. you were like his breath of fresh air, an escape from the constant cycle he found himself looping in.
it was exactly that privilege that left you so enamored by the man.
he treated you like you deserved the universe and then some, despite his usually gruff nature. his eyes were always softer whenever he looked your way, his words although still rude sometimes, were much nicer when they were directed towards you. “are you gonna eat sometime today, or are you trying to beat your previous record?” you knew he meant well, no matter how much he sounded like a dick.
after you started dating, you could say that you let the favoritism go to your head a bit, always trying to push the man’s buttons to see how far you could go before he snapped. usually it would take all of five minutes before a glare was being shot at you, low eyes telling you everything you needed to know.
you’d always tried to get some form of attention out of him, make him expose his true feelings for you in ways that he never did before. on a typical you would get ignored by the man, only catching his attention when he would allow it. but on very special days, you wouldn’t have to ask for a thing.
it was his refusal to be affectionate that made you so hung up on the act, so the moment he gave you a sample of what you were looking for, it went straight between your legs.
on this day you were trying to schedule plans with a long time friend who’d be traveling for the past few months, your phone pressed to your ear as you stood at the vanity in your bedroom.
“of course! what time?” you’d chirp, smiling at your reflection as your best friend talked about this new cafe they’d found. as you tried to make sure your appearance was presentable, you caught a peek of sae as he slipped from the bathroom silently. the steam from his shower escaped behind his figure, sweatpants low on his hips as he tossed his towel on the computer chair near him. his low cast eyes peered over towards you when he heard you giggle slightly, nodding your head. “yeah, that’ll work just great,” the sarcasm oozed from your words. “did you forget what happened last time?”
when you laughed a bit louder sae paused his movements, watching your figure from where he was standing by the bed. he wasn’t sure what spurred him on but the next thing he knew, his body was stalking up to you, watching as you paid him no mind through the mirrors reflection.
you only acknowledged his presence behind you when a warm hand placed itself on your waist, fingers dusting about the skin of your stomach. your voice aired out a bit, eyes slipping shut as your hand hand came down to cover his.
you hummed as your friend continued their tangent, letting your hand match the feather-like touches from your boyfriend asking his forearm.
a small gasp would escape you when you continued talking to your friends instead of shifting your full attention to sae, both of his strong arms wrapping around your mid section. the pressure of his muscular arms made your body go warm, your thighs pressing together and breathing growing uneven.
“y-yeah… yeah it c-could be a while then…” you could barely even comprehend your friend anymore, huffing out when sae’s body crushed against yours, pressing your lower stomach into the edge of the vanity table. when a pair of soft lips started to trail down from under your ear, moving along your collar bone, you felt the last remnants of control slip away.
“hey, but something…um…something just came up, so just text me when you’re on the way there alright?” you spoke hastily, tightening your grip on the phone when your now clammy hands felt the device slipping away from you. when your friend made a sound of agreement, you quickly pulled the phone away from you ear. “okaybye!”
the moment sae watched you press the end call button his hand wrapped around yours, snatching the phone from your grip. you barely had time to register the sound of the box hitting the floor before one of the hands that were wrapped around your waist picked around your neck, forcing you to turn around. your eyes were wide as you stared at sae’s nonchalant visage, trying to read his eyes in hopes of figuring out what he might do next. your body was effectively on fire, complying to his will when he decided to lighten the pressure on your throat, still keeping his warm fingers against your skin.
“looks like you’re going somewhere,” he said flatly, not giving away any ideas as to what he was thinking. when you nodded he let out a hum, the feeling of his nails dragging down your exposed chest making your breath fake. “my trophy looks so pretty, i’m not sure i can let her go out like this.”
his words were punctuated by the dip of his head, lips coming into contact with your cheek. they trailed along your face, light kisses covering every piece of you that he could find. you didn’t notice the way you held your breath when his mouth hovered over yours, waiting and ready for the man before you. “b-but, we already made the plans.”
sae didn’t respond, only staring at you in seemingly contemplation, before smothering your lips with his. this kiss was much different than the ones he was peppering you with earlier, slow but full of tongue. the slight desperation seeped through in the way he slotted his thigh between yours, hips shifting when your hip brushed against his growing cock.
an overwhelmed moan slipped from you, trying to keep up where your mind was falling behind.
when sae pulled away he had to hide the smirk that threatened to expose him, your glassy eyes and swollen lips giving him every reason to keep you at home, rather than going out with your stupid friend.
he couldn’t let you walk around outside with that look on your face, now could he?
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bonus info: sae will never admit that he only becomes affectionate when he gets jealous. you were his, his baby, and when you decided to put other people ahead of staying right next to him, he had to make sure you remembered who you were coming back to at the end of the night.
BONUS bonus info: you already knew all that information, which is why whenever you did go out, you made sure to wear your prettiest outfits just so he could ruin them before you left, and after you got back <3
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wolfgirlandfarmboy · 2 days
Text
It was an early morning. The sun had barely started rising into the sky and Jack had just been pulled out of his sleep by his body's automatic clock.
Growing up on a farm, he was used to being yanked awake to get a jump on whatever was planned for the day. However, living in Briar Patch meant that clock just made it so he spent more time consciously laying in bed than anyone else.
There were some perks to it. Or rather one.
And that was getting to spend more time in bed with his moonlight.
Nana wasn't a morning person in the slightest. And Jack knew better than to try and "fix" it. She got to stay up late and he got to wake up early. It was a strange sorta balance.
So when he finally blinked the blur of sleep from his eyes, he got a perfect view of the puff of curly fur on her chest that he had, at some point in his slumber, buried his face in. Craning his head upwards more allowed him to take in her serene drooling face as she rested her head on their single shared pillow.
A drowsy smile of pure admiration came to his face. 
The two had been dating for quite a while now, yet butterflies constantly filled his stomach whenever he looked at Nana’s face.
Jack had heard plenty of stories and received plenty of warnings about how the love he felt right now would dim. The “Honey Moon Period” is what people would call it. It was when the height of a couple’s love would be at the beginning of the relationship and gradually fade as they learned more about each other over time. It was certainly something Jack was concerned about. He knew it was a major concern of Nana’s as well. They obviously had their friendship they could fall back on but there was fear that their romance would have soiled it. 
Yet, as Jack gazed at Nana’s blissful face and the ghost of a smile on her lips, he could swear he felt even more love than the day he confessed to her. It was the more he learned about her that he found himself falling even deeper. And the more time they spent together, the more he felt like he believed he found his soulmate. 
Jack couldn’t lie, he never truly believed in the concept of a "soulmate” before the relationship. Having someone that was destined to be with you seemed way too much of a fairy tale for him to believe. 
Of course, that was before he found out he was basically a fairy tale himself. 
That belief slowly started to creep up on him but he still wasn’t too convinced about the concept of soulmates. 
At that moment, Nana hugged him closer into her chest. With the way they were entangled, one of her hands rested on his head, her fingers entangled in the three flicks of hair that always sticked up, while her other hand remained on the back of his neck. 
His eyes widened and his face became a deep shade of red. Peeking from the fluff his face was now practically smothered in, he could see Nana’s eyes were still closed, seemingly still in a dream. Yet, her smile grew and a small purr began to rumble in her chest. 
It was a soft and calming noise. Something many would never get the joy of hearing, and something many didn't even believe she can make due to the antisocial personality she had around others. 
Yet, Jack was mere inches from the source. A sound that let him know she was comfortable and safe. Closing his eyes, Jack let the blissful rumbles take over his thoughts and ease his mind. 
And for a few minutes, the world just melted away and it was just the two of them in their bed. His arms wrapped around her body a little tighter, holding her just as close as she held him. Their scents mixed together as their hearts beat in time. A matching rhythm that others just brushed off as some imaginary phenomenon from the love birds. 
However, it was this shared heartbeat that made Jack lose his disbelief in soulmates. Especially when he brought it up to Nana who experienced the same thing. 
He could still remember the way her cheeks flushed the cutest red as she told him how she would always listen to his heart when they hugged. Her heightened sense of hearing made it easy. She puzzled at first when she heard how in sync they were and initially chalked it up to one of those things that happens to everyone that no one talks about. Yet when she tuned into other people’s heartbeat’s whenever she got close to them, they were always off sync with hers. 
No matter how close in tune she thought she heard, none ever got as close as her sunflower’s. It was like a dance they did together that no one else could see. 
Jack smiled as he thought more about how intertwined the two really were together. It made his chest flutter thinking about how the love of his life was a perfect match for him.
He knew some would claim she was a “near” perfect match, but Jack knew Nana was everything he wanted and more. She might not have the same sleep schedule, near polar opposite actually, and she might not be the most optimistic or cheerful individual, like some had expected his type to be, but she was still his other half. Her being the opposite of him made things more fun whenever they were together. 
Sleep slowly began to creep back into Jack’s brain as he continued to listen to Nana’s heartbeat. He thought he could stay awake for just a couple more hours, at least until she woke up herself, but the comfort of being in her arms and the soft caress of the fur on her chest made it harder to keep his eyes open.
Something had compelled him, perhaps that literally green eyed part of his brain that urged him to do all types of things, to say something before he went to passed out. He knew Nana was still sleeping herself, but he wanted to say it nonetheless.
“I love you...”
It was muffled and a bit slurred as Jack had officially began to drift off but before he lost full consciousness, he could have sworn he heard that serene voice he knew very well echo back.
“I love you too.”
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simslegacy5083 · 1 day
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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 94: Getting to Know You
The day of her 2nd trimester appointment, Luigi and Noemi began doing the “homework” suggested at their therapy session. Beau was covering for him at practice as they headed to Magnolia Promenade after class to visit the maternity shop near the hospital.
It was an expansion of the paternity boutique Steven and Peachy had sworn by during their pregnancies. A big-name maternity retailer had opened a branch of their store next door so that sims of all genders and shapes could find comfortable clothing for pregnancy in a little conjoined mini-mall.
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Luigi was doing his best to win smiles from his glum girlfriend, even going so far as to pull a couple items from the paternity section to “model” over a “baby bump” pillow that the shop had available for sims to get a sense of how something would fit at a later stage of gestation.
In the end it was mission accomplished! Noemi left the store in a much better of frame of mind than she’d entered it, wearing a comfortable and stylish new maternity ensemble that fit (and looked!) much better than Luigi’s old t-shirt and sweatpants had.
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Their next stop was a nearby baby supply emporium. They didn’t plan to setup the nursery until after graduation, when they moved to the island, but they could still follow Dr. Velasquez’s advice by picking out some things and making plans.
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They did manage to select one small toy for the baby before they left for Noemi’s prenatal appointment.
She was shocked when Luigi was drawn to blue options instead of his usual green, but he just shrugged. To date each heir in his family had loved a unique color; and just as dada Peachy had been stuck on “green themed” name ideas, he figured he was being guided towards the right hue for his future little one.
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Luigi was feeling unsettled as they arrived at the hospital. Shopping for the baby had made his child feel more “real”, but he had quickly realized that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He wanted to want his child, but thinking about the future with a little one in it was still a struggle for him.
Noemi’s midwives worked with a medical OB, and this visit she was scheduled with him for some bloodwork. After that was finished the exam proceeded as usual, with a listen to the babies' nice strong heartbeat and some measurements to ensure their growth was on target. Everything seemed to be progressing well and Noemi was instructed to come back one final time once she entered her third trimester.
When the check-up was done their provider sent them down the hall for the ultrasound that would give them their first glimpse at the baby.
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Luigi lagged a little bit behind as they headed in, texting Denton as an excuse to keep his head down. His anxiety was through the roof – if looking at cribs and diapers had been hard how was he going to feel seeing his son or daughter “in living color”!?
The tech introduced themselves, instructed Noemi to lie back on the table, and in no time their child was visible on the screen. Noemi asked right away if they could tell the babies sex, and with a quick adjustment of the wand the technician confirmed they were having a boy.
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Luigi was reeling as Noemi got redressed, but pasted on a smile that he hoped came close to matching her ecstatic grin as he helped her to her feet.
When she told him “come say hello to your son” Luigi hesitated for only a moment before leaning down and directing a shy wave towards Noemi’s belly along with a quick “nice to meet you”.
He was glad to let Noemi babble on as they headed towards the exit. He had known what the pregnancy test, the therapy, and Noemi’s growing belly meant, but seeing his little boy on the monitor had brought the weight of reality crashing down in a whole new way that he was still trying to process.
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Rather than following her into the teleporter station that would take them home Luigi hung back, claiming that he wanted to grab some finger food for dinner so they could both dive right into their homework without distraction.
Noemi, quite tired out from the long day, didn’t argue, giving him a kiss and requesting “something from that Mediterranean place – your baby wants some hummus!” before continuing on her way.
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The shiny jewelry on display in the stall Luigi headed towards once she teleported out of sight declared that it didn’t sell Mediterranean food.
Seeing his son had unsettled him, but it had also made him even more sure that he wanted to ask his girlfriend to become his wife.
He didn’t doubt they would have gotten there without a baby in the mix, he’d loved her for ages, but he needed her to know he was in this for the long haul, and what better way to show his devotion than asking her to spend the rest of her life with him?
It was time to take the next step in their relationship, if she was willing, and unlike parenthood it was a journey he was ready and eager to begin.
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Yes, of course they are having a boy 🤭, and no, I didn’t do anything to influence this outcome (but I’m not mad about it)!
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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here
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partybarty · 1 year
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How wholesome was Alexei Popyrin’s post match interview?
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rene-darling · 6 months
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WHEN- you store things inside your boobies
...very obviously fem reader lmao, you store things in the middle of your chest...
...lyney...xiao...itto...wanderer...
Lyney
You're showing lyney a card trick that learned.
But no matter how much he tries to figure out where you hid the card he just can't get it.
He never usually does this but he's just too curious!!
So he's been asking- no, begging for you to tell him how you did it and where you hid the card!
After much pleading and you repeating "a magician never reveals her secrets" you finally spill.
You tell him to watch carefully and he nods.
His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he burns red.
You reach down your shirt and pull out a card from in between your boobes
"I- you uh..ah.." he's stuttering, not sure what would be an appropriate response to this.
You just laugh "see, this is why I said you can't do this trick, your tits are too small darlin"
"h-hey- making you blush is my job! Not the other way around!"
he's used to making snarky remarks or dirty jokes he can't believe he fell for this!
Xiao
Xiao recently gifted you some adeptus beads
They were meant to ward away evil spirits and demons and keep you safe when he's not around
However, he's noticed that he can't seem to find you wearing them around your neck, so he decided to ask you about it
"y/n where are you keeping the beads I gave you? I didn't give them to you just for you to leave them somewhere to collect dust."
He huffed offended you wouldn't keep the charm on you.
You already insisted on not calling his name when in trouble so you should at least keep the beads on you!
You just looked at him amused telling him you had them on you but he insisted you showed them to him, so you did.
Pulling down the neckline of your shirt you reached your hand in to grab said beaded necklace.
His mouth dropped once you showed it to him and his face bloomed "i- y-you..you have no respect for the adepti!" he vanished after yelling that likely to hide his blushing face, and his boner
Itto
Recently you've hid one of ittos little purple bugs right before his little match with some kid
He's frantically searching for said bug, insisting that he has to take that one or he won't win! Not that he will either way
"y/nnnnn! Are you sure you haven't seen my little bugger! I really need it!" he's whining like a little baby!
Feeling bad for him you finally relent telling him you might have an idea of where his beetle could be
"REALLYYYY!!! You're the best babe-" you tell him to watch carefully as you pull your shirt down and from in-between your valleys crawled out the purple beetle you had hidden
His mouth dropped his eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets (imagine gojo when he looked at megumi)
"not fair y/n! Why does the beetle get to stay there and not me!" he's thinking about it being unfair,
Then the next second he wants to see if the beetle would fit in between his tits,
Of course, they do. I mean have you seen his tits? He's very proud of that fact
Wanderer
Nahida recently sent the both of you on an expedition together
He acts like he's not happy but deep down he's happy to be traveling alone with his beloved
Recently you both stopped at a shop to buy something but he had forgotten his mora back at camp.
He looked towards you waiting for you to pay, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you when you looked at him amused and asked "you sure"
"just pay." well, he insisted, so why would you deny?
As soon as you reached down your shirt his mind short-circuited
You pulled out a mora pouch and handed some mora to the shop keeper like it was nothing and then again stuffed the pouch down your tits.
Grabbing the things you started walking away as wanderer stood there just blushing violently
Looking back you yelled "are you coming or not darling?" he snapped out of it following after you
"did you really have to do that in fucking public?" he huffed in embarrassment, walking back home with a boner is annoying
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quin-ns · 6 months
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Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 8.2K
Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him
Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers
A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶
hunger games masterlist
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“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”
In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.
“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.
You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.
It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.
As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.
He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.
She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?
It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.
As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.
It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.
“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.
It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.
Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.
Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.
The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.
It was perfect.
You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.
“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”
“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.
Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”
Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.
You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.
When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.
He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.
He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.
“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.
Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.
God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.
When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.
It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.
Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.
He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.
That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.
“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”
“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.
If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.
“Well, you did a wonderful job.”
Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.
The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.
Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.
His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.
“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.
But you… you grinned. You were too good.
“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”
Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.
“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”
Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.
From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.
Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.
The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.
It was simple as that.
After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.
His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.
You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.
You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.
“Coryo!”
“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.
“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.
“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”
“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”
The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.
“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”
Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.
A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.
“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”
Coriolanus blinked.
“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.
You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.
“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”
“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.
When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.
You stepped back from him, parting completely.
“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”
Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.
He would’ve, and you knew that.
The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.
He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.
So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…
“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”
Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.
“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.
Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.
Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.
He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?
Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.
Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.
In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.
He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.
When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.
Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.
“Coryo? What—“
“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”
You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.
“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”
“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.
You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.
“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”
Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.
“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.
You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.
He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.
Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.
Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.
Was this the right moment?
He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.
Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.
His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.
Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.
But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.
Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.
“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”
Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.
Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”
You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“
“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”
“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.
“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.
With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.
“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”
You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?
He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.
His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—
“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.
“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.
Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.
You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.
He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.
Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.
Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.
You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.
He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.
Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.
Right away, he wanted more.
His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.
Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.
He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.
As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.
He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.
His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.
He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.
This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.
He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.
Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge
His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.
You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.
Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.
Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.
Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.
“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.
You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.
He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.
He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—
A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?
You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.
Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.
Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?
“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”
He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.
There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.
“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”
Again, no response.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat.
Again.
“Please?”
If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.
He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.
Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.
When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.
You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.
You were good to him like that.
If only you’d let him in now.
The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.
His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…
“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”
“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.
“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”
He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.
The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.
A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.
Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.
What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.
Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.
You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?
You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.
Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.
From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.
“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”
“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”
Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.
Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.
In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.
He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.
“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.
Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.
Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.
It took nothing for him to catch up to you.
“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”
“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.
It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.
“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”
You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.
Coriolanus swallowed.
“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”
You turned your head forward.
“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”
Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.
“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”
Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.
It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.
“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”
The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.
And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.
“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.
“So you didn’t get into a fight?”
Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.
“A fight?”
“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”
It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.
“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”
Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.
He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.
“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”
Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”
Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.
Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.
The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.
When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?
This was growing old very, very quickly.
Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.
Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.
“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”
No such luck.
You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.
You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.
“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.
“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.
“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”
You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”
A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”
You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.
“What do you want, Coryo?”
“I want you”
“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”
“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”
“You humiliated me.”
“In front of who? No one saw us.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”
Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.
“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”
He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.
“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.
“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”
“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”
Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?
No, that wouldn’t do.
It just wouldn’t.
“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”
You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.
If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.
Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.
You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”
Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.
“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”
Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.
It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.
More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.
Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.
So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.
Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.
The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.
Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.
The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.
“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”
You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.
Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?
You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.
As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.
Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.
“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.
���We’ll see,” he mused in response.
He got you bare, and then himself.
You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.
“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.
Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.
A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.
He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.
With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.
You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.
He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.
“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.
That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.
It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.
Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.
Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.
Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.
He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.
Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.
He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.
His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.
Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.
He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.
You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.
To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.
He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.
His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.
You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.
It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.
A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.
He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.
“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.
He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.
You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.
Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.
After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.
He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.
You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.
Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.
“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.
You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”
Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.
“That you love me.”
You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.
“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”
Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.
You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.
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suncoved · 5 months
Text
WHAT THE BUZZ! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: rafe returns home with a fresh new haircut, and you don't know whether to be mad... or turned on
warnings: smut 18+, mdni. fingering, oral.
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it was a peaceful saturday afternoon in the outerbanks. the sun slowly setting over the horizon as it emitted a soft golden orange hue to the sky from your window.
you quickly flipped over the next page of your magazine, feeling the glossy pages between your fingertips.
you had to admit you really hadn't done much today. besides going out for lunch with your boyfriend before he dropped you off at your house because he was meeting up with his friend barry for the afternoon.
that gave you an ample amount of time to paint your toes a bright white and to change your bed sheets to your favourite cream set with little pink roses decorating the fabric.
now you were lying on your bed, clad in a matching pyjama and fluffy light pink socks, kicking your legs as you read a magazine filled with unnecessary celebrity gossip lying on your stomach.
rafe was due to be at yours any minute, hopefully arriving with his promise of ice cream for dinner.
you didn't make any attempt to move as you heard your front door lock click and the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards your room.
you bit your lip in anticipation, hearing the sound of rafe making his way to the front of your open bedroom door and his body leaning up against the door frame.
you smiled and you rolled your body over, making your way to sit at the edge of your bed.
though, instead of your boyfriend standing at your door, there was a man. seemingly resembling your boyfriend.
the same clothes, the same bright smile, the same strong arms with veins running down to his hands, but with... a buzzcut??
"rafe! what did you do!" you jump up from your place on your bed, padding your feet over to your boyfriend. you reach your perfectly manicured hand up to his usually soft, golden mop of hair, only to feel spikiness under your fingers.
"what? don't like it baby?" he asked, painting a mocking pout on his face as he brought his hands to the sides on your waist. "no-no. i-i i like it, its just.. different" he sighed, standing back so you could get a better look at the man in front of you.
his bone structure could probably fit any haircut he had, this one being no exception. he was utterly beautiful.
and as much as you are going to mourn the loss of carding your fingers through his soft locks, you could get used to how this new haircut made him look. which was even hotter, in your humble opinion.
"b-but. how am i going to play with your hair?" he raised his brow at your phrasing of what he knew you meant was 'how am i going to tug on your hair as you're eating me out'
"hair grows, pretty girl. but you and i both know that you playing with my hair is not your only problem with this" rafe stated smirking, the cold metal of his ring making contact with the bottom on your thigh as he hoisted you up so your legs were straddling his waist.
you squealed at his movements, draping your hands over his shoulders and he carried you over to your bed, dropping you softly where your head hit the pillows.
"why didn't you tell me you were getting your haircut?" you asked, changing the subject as rafe planted kisses down your neck.
"barry did it, said it would be fun to see your reaction." he murmured, not lifting his head up from your neck. "you shaved your hair to get my reaction, rafe!" you scolded, playfully pushing his head away from you.
"kinda, and my hair kept getting in my eyes, disrupted me from eating my meals" he said nonchalantly as he swiftly pulled your red heart-decorated cream colored shorts down your soft legs.
"what do you mean?" you asked, staring down at him through your lashes as goosebumps appeared all over the skin of your thighs from his fleeting touches as he pulled your white lacy panties off slowly.
"you, baby." he states simply, running one slender finger through your wet folds. you hissed at his touch, lulling your head to the side as you rested on your plush bunny lying on your bed, discreetly turning it over so it was facing the covers and not witnessing your lewd acts.
he spread your thighs further apart, kneading the skin as he licked a long strip across your slit, making you jolt.
"it's ok baby" he said softly, grabbing your hand for you to have something to hold onto as he watched you grasp the air near his head, not feeling the normal soft locs you were used to due to his recent haircut.
he began to drape your legs over his shoulders, pushing them against your chest as you whimpered, looking at you sternly as he used his large biceps to keep you pinned down.
he bowed his head down, the sound of him spitting offensively making its way to your ears as he took his finger and spread his salvia all over your pussy.
he shushed condescendingly and he entered his first finger into you, watching closely as it disappeared in you. "good girl, you're doin' so good for me yea?"
you nodded quickly at his question, feeling him kiss your clit once before diving in and moving his tongue all around your pussy. he pumped his finger in and out and he collected all your juices, eating you out like a starved man.
"god i love this pussy, so good to me" rafe says to himself, pushing you down further as he pushes another finger into you, making you squirm.
the coil in the bottom of your tummy tightens, getting closer and closer to exploding as he keeps sucking on your clit. your legs shake over his shoulders, making him to chuckle against you, vibrations pulsating through you from his actions.
your eyes squeezed your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to his biceps and pushing your acrylics so hard into him they were sure to leave marks, but he didn't care.
"you gonna cum for me baby?" he asked looking up at you, his lips puffy and slick with your juices.
you bit your now chapped lips as you nodded eagerly, his fingers how speeding up inside of you.
"o-oh my god rafe" you moaned, trying to pull away from him subconsciously but his arms not letting you move an inch. "c'mon sweet girl, give it to me"
your eyes rolled back and you came, his fingers and tongue working you through your orgasm as you squealed, thankful your parents weren't home for the evening.
"so, so sweet. love the taste of this pussy" rafe sighed, not making a move to stop after you had came, causing fat tears to roll down your cheeks from overstimulation.
"how many more do you think you can give me ma?"
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hoshifighting · 27 days
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Synopsis: Where Seungcheol is your bestfriend with benefit, and after you agree to go on a date with a guy, Seungcheol has a jealous crisis. And during the date, you realize that it was a mistake to go out with this guy.
Word Count: 5.8K
Warnings: Smut, slut/whore shamming, angst, argument, jealousy, "you are mine", unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), flashbacks, penetrative sex, fingering, clit stimulation, chocking, hair pulling, cock/face slap, multiple orgasms, creampie, begging, overwhelming, confession and etc.
You apply the final touch of lipstick, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back looks confident, ready, but you can’t ignore Seungcheol’s presence behind you. He’s perched on your couch, arms crossed, a pout that reminds you of a child denied his favorite candy.
"What's going on, Seungcheol?" you ask.
"This guy is no good," he replies, his voice tinged with frustration.
You mumble, "Yes, yes, you've told me plenty of times."
He leans forward, eyes intense. "Then why are you going on this date?"
You stay quiet, fiddling with the makeup on the desk. He presses on, "How long have you been talking to him?"
You don't answer, the silence thick between you. Suddenly, he stands, crossing the room in a few strides. He turns you around, pushing you gently but firmly against the desk. His breath is warm on your neck.
"Why won't you answer me?" he demands softly.
"Seungcheol, it's... complicated," you murmur, avoiding his gaze.
"Complicated?" he echoes, his grip on your shoulders tightening just a bit. "We used to talk about everything. You've always been open about your flings, but now..." He trails off, searching your eyes for answers.
"But now we're fucking, Seungcheol!"
"And? What's your point?"
"Why do you care now?" you retort, your voice tinged with irritation. "When you were fucking with Mingyu's sister, I didn't say anything!"
Seungcheol's shock is evident, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, "We weren't... we weren't fucking!"
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Seungcheol. You think I'm blind? That girl couldn't keep her hands off you."
"We were just... hanging out," he insists, his tone growing louder.
"Hanging out?" you repeat, incredulous. "That's the best excuse you've got?"
Seungcheol's frustration bubbles over, his voice rising to match yours. "What's wrong with you, huh? Why do you care so much about who I'm with?"
"Why do you care so much about who I'm with?" you shoot back, your own anger rising. "You're the one who started this whole thing, remember?"
"And you accept it!" Seungcheol shouts, his frustration boiling over.
You push past him, heading in the direction of the door, but he grabs your arm, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with anger, his jaw clenched tight.
"I can't believe you," he says through gritted teeth. "After everything I said, after all the warnings... you're just going to go through with it anyway?"
"Let go," you snap, trying to wrench your arm free.
He holds on, his voice low and intense. "If this guy does anything, anything at all, you call me. Understand?"
You meet his gaze, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. Despite the argument, despite the tension, you know he means it.
"I hear you."
With that, he releases your arm and turns away, striding out of the apartment without another word. You watch him go, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest.
You sat across from your date, but your mind was elsewhere. The words exchanged with Seungcheol echoed in your head, drowning out any attempt at conversation. It was like you were just there physically, your mind a million miles away. – a date that meant nothing to you.
He tried to make small talk, but you could barely muster a response. Every smile felt forced, every laugh hollow. You couldn't enjoy the date, not when the weight of the argument with Seungcheol still hung heavy in your mind. 
When your phone buzzes with a message from Seungcheol, you jump, almost knocking over your drink. You quickly glance at the screen, your heart skipping a beat when you see his name.
"Are you home already?" the message reads.
You glanced at the time, realizing that it had been hours since you left the date early, claiming that you needed to go home. With a heavy sigh, you typed out a response: "Yes, I'm home."
After those messages, Seungcheol practically disappeared. Usually, your weekends were marked by his presence—his calls, his texts, him showing up at your front door with that familiar, easy smile. But this weekend, there was nothing. Not a single word from him.
By the time Tuesday rolled around, the silence was deafening. You took a long bath, trying to relax, but the empty space where Seungcheol's presence used to be was impossible to ignore. As you lay on your bed, you felt the temptation to pick up your phone and text him, just to break the silence.
The truth was, now that he wasn't around, everything seemed to remind you of him. The way he laughed, the way he teased you, the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his words. You realized how much you needed him—not just in your routine, but in your life. The thought of reaching out to him tugged at you, but your ego stood in the way.
Was it worth it? Was holding onto your pride worth the growing emptiness you felt without him?
You stared at the ceiling, the questions swirling in your mind. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. You picked up your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen.
You dialed his number, putting the phone to your ear. The line beeped twice before he picked up, his voice coming through fast, "Y/N?"
Hearing his voice, you closed your eyes and sighed. "Cheol..." you murmured, the nickname slipping out naturally.
On the other end, you heard Seungcheol's breath hitch. He knew you only used that nickname when you were feeling particularly vulnerable, and he wondered if you needed him now. But he reminded himself to stay cold, at least for a moment—maybe you did need him. 
"What do you want, Y/N?" he asked, his tone carefully controlled.
You bit your lip, your heart pounding. "Where are you?" you asked, straining to hear the sounds of street movement in the background. He was definitely driving.
"I'm out," he replied curtly. "Why?"
"Out where?" you pressed, needing to know more.
He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. "Just driving around. Needed to clear my head."
You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what you needed to say. "Can you come over? I... I need to see you."
Another pause, longer this time. "Why, Y/N? Why now?"
"Because I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And because I can't stop thinking about you."
There was silence on the line, and for a moment, you feared he might hang up. But then you heard him exhale sharply. "I'll be there in ten."
The line went dead, and you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart raced.
When Seungcheol knocked on your door, you practically flew to open it. The scent of his cologne, the one you loved so much, filled the air as soon as you pulled the door open. He stood there in a leather jacket, black jeans, and that shirt you always told him looked amazing on him.
You wasted no time pulling him inside, closing the door behind him, and wrapping your arms tightly around him. You jumped up a bit so he could hold your legs, and he caught you effortlessly, pulling you close.
As he hugged you, his warmth enveloped you, and you melted into his embrace. His hands caressed your moisturized skin, sending shivers down your spine as he admired the contrast of your delicate babydoll against his rugged street clothing.
For a moment, everything else faded away—the arguments, the doubts, the uncertainty.
"Cheol..." you murmur against his neck, your voice barely above a whisper. He hums in response, his breath warm against your skin. You can't bring yourself to look into his eyes, feeling a vulnerability swirling inside you.
Suddenly, he gently grabs your hair, tilting your head up so that you're forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, searching, emotions you can't quite decipher. But in that moment, you feel like he's seeing right through you, seeing all the things you're too afraid to say out loud.
Without another word, you lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing embrace. His fingers press into the small of your back, pulling you closer, as he furrows his eyebrows, savoring the taste of your kiss like it's the first time all over again.
His tongue slips into your mouth, a silent plea for more, and you gladly oblige, deepening the kiss with every passing moment. Lost in each other, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he guides you towards the bedroom.
Seungcheol makes you sit on the edge of the bed, his hands deftly working to remove his leather jacket. You watch him, the strings of your babydoll falling from your shoulders as the fabric slides down, teasingly revealing hints of your curves.
Your lips are still stained red from the kiss, and your hair is slightly tousled from his grasp, but you can't tear your eyes away from him. There's a hunger in your gaze, a longing that mirrors his own, and he can't help but feel overwhelmed by it all.
As he stands before you, shirtless, he can't help but ask the question that's been burning in his mind since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Why do you do this to me?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
"You drive me crazy, Y/N," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can't stay away from you."
You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as they brush against his chest. "Then don't," you whisper, your voice filled with a desperate plea. "Stay with me."
His eyes darken with desire as he pushes you back onto the bed, a hunger burning in his gaze. His hands move with purpose, swiftly removing your babydoll, and he scoffs softly when he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath.
As his hand slides down between your thighs, finding you already wet and ready for him, you can't help but tremble under his touch. His fingers move roughly against your sensitive folds, teasing and taunting you.
But instead of giving you what you crave, he teases you, his touch tantalizingly slow as he savors every moment.
"Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice pleading for more.
But he only smirks, his lips trailing kisses down your body as he continues to tease you, building the anticipation until you're practically begging.
"What? That guy couldn't handle you?" Seungcheol asks with a devilish grin, his voice laced with amusement.
"Fuck, don't ask about this right now," you plead, trying to focus on the sensations he's stirring within you.
But he tilts his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why not?" he asks innocently, his fingers entering your pussy with a deliberate slowness that makes you arch your back in pleasure.
"Because we didn't... we didn't fuck," you manage to stammer out, your breath catching as his fingers find just the right spot inside you.
Seungcheol hums in satisfaction, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he continues to work you with his skilled fingers. "Did you kiss him then?" he murmurs against your skin.
You moan softly, the sensation overwhelming as his fingers brush against your g'spot. "N-no," you gasp out, your mind consumed with the pleasure he's giving you. "Oh my god, Seungcheol, please..."
The filthy sounds emanating from your pussy made you blush furiously, but Seungcheol only smirked, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "Why didn't you kiss him?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement, relishing in your struggle to answer as his fingers worked faster, driving you closer to the edge.
You squirmed beneath him, trying to form a coherent response amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I-I don't know," you managed to gasp out, your breath hitching as his touch pushed you closer to the brink.
Seungcheol's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he continued to tease you relentlessly. "You don't know?" he repeated, his fingers working you with an expert precision that had you writhing beneath him.
You could barely think, let alone form a coherent response.
As Seungcheol's fingers entered and left you with lightning speed, you couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the blur of his forearm, moving so quickly it was almost a blur. Your back arched involuntarily as you let out a string of breathless "ah ah ah's," each one punctuated by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
Seungcheol knew exactly what he was doing, his movements calculated to drive you wild with ecstasy. 
Seungcheol knew you were close, could feel the tension building in your body with every movement of his hand. But just as you were on the brink of release, he stopped abruptly, leaving you panting and trembling with need.
"S-Seungcheol! No…"
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with frustration and desire, as he casually opened his jeans, a devilish grin playing on his lips. "You're trembling," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he watched your reaction.
Seungcheol takes his hard cock, slick with his own arousal, and grabs you by your hair roughly, pulling you close to him.
"You want this cock, don't you?" he growls, his breath hot against your skin. "You want my cock, you filthy little slut?"
You nod eagerly, your mouth hanging open in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to take him in.
"That's it," he murmurs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he slaps his cock against your face, the sound echoing in the room. "You're such a fucking whore, begging for it like this."
You whimper at his words, the intensity of his desire fueling your own. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each slap of his cock against your face, and the way he bites his lip, the need for him consuming you completely.
"Tell me you want it," he demands, his grip on your hair tightening. "Tell me you want my cock inside you."
"I want it," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want your cock, Seungcheol. Please, give it to me."
With a satisfied smirk, he positions himself at your mouth, ready to give you exactly what you've been begging for. And as he thrusts forward, filling your mouth with his hard length, you can't help but moan in ecstasy, knowing that this is exactly where you belong.
Seungcheol's mouth falls agape, his face contorted in pleasure as you take him in so eagerly. He watches in awe as you moan around him, your hands sliding over his abs, making his skin shiver in your hands.
His frown quickly turns into a smirk of satisfaction, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth enveloping him completely. He can't help but marvel at how good you feel, how perfectly you fit him, as he rocks his hips gently.
You continue to moan around him, your hands exploring every inch of his body, fueling his desire even more. 
"This mouth..." Seungcheol's voice is low and possessive as he tugs at your hair, his grip firm but not unkind. "This mouth is mine. Mine to kiss, mine to fuck."
With that declaration, he guides himself into your throat, the sudden invasion making your nose hit his pelvis. He holds you there for a moment, relishing the sensation of being engulfed by your warmth, before you instinctively gulp around him.
For a moment, he holds you there, the sensation of your throat tightening around him making him hiss in pleasure. You gulp around him, his grip tightens as he savors the moment.
"You're so fucking good at that,"
Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he pulls you off, a trail of saliva connecting you to him as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. The sight of you—lips swollen, eyes glazed with lust—only fuels his desire further. He knows he's claimed you, body and soul, and there's nothing in the world that could feel more right.
Seungcheol's hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but not too tight, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp for air. He pushes you further up the bed, his eyes locked onto yours with rage. His fingers around your neck feel like a beautiful, sinful necklace, a reminder of the control he holds over you in this moment.
"You have no idea how fucking mad you made me," he growls, his voice low and rough with emotion. "You drive me insane, Y/N. Always pushing my buttons, always making me want you more than anything."
As he confesses his frustration, you feel the head of his huge cock pressing against your entrance, stretching you slowly, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and tears slip down the sides of your face, mingling with the intense pleasure and the sweet pain of his grip on your throat.
"I can't stand it when you're with someone else," he continues, his thrusts slow and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him. "You belong to me. This body, this mouth, this pussy—all mine."
You gasp, the pressure of his cock stretching you almost too much to bear, but the feeling is intoxicating. "Seungcheol," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.
He tightens his grip on your throat just a bit more, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his dominance. "Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
He opens your legs wider, thrusting roughly inside you, the force of his movements making you scream. Your hands reach out, one gripping his arm while the other clutches the sheets with white-knuckled intensity. The pleasure and pain blend together, making it almost impossible to form coherent thoughts.
"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice a low growl. You stay quiet, the words caught in your throat, as if you couldn't hear him over the pounding of your heart and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.
"Say it," he insists, his tone more forceful now. When you still don't respond, he suddenly stops, his cock buried deep inside you, his balls pressed tight against your cunt. The sudden stillness makes you sob with the force of the pressure, feeling him pressing against your g'spot, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a testament to the power he holds over you.
Seungcheol glances down at you, his gaze hard and unwavering. He grabs your jaw, holding it firmly as he shakes your head slightly. "Say it," he repeats, his eyes boring into yours.
Between the overwhelming pleasure and the sharp edge of suffering, you manage to give him a sly smile, defiance flickering in your eyes. He narrows his gaze, recognizing the challenge in your expression.
Without warning, he delivers a sharp slap to your face, the sting of it sending a shock through your system. "Say it," he demands again, anger and desperation, his control slipping.
The slap jolts you back to reality, the raw intensity of the moment piercing through the haze. "I'm yours," you finally manage to gasp, your voice cracking.. "All yours, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol contains a smile, the satisfaction in his eyes unmistakable. He gives you another two light slaps on your face, the stinging sensation making your skin tingle. Then, with a show of his strength, he effortlessly flips you over, treating you like a doll, positioning you exactly how he wants.
Your chest presses against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets as you feel his hands gripping the meat of your ass, spreading you open for him. The vulnerability make your heart race, every nerve in your body on high alert.
Seungcheol's fingers dig into your flesh, holding you firmly as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly at first, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. Once he's fully inside, he pauses, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice a rough whisper of desire. "You feel so fucking good."
You can barely respond, your mind lost in the sensation of him filling you completely. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending ripples of pleasure through your body.
"You're mine," he growls, his pace quickening, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. "Say it again."
"I'm yours," you moan, your voice muffled by the mattress. "Seungcheol."
He lets out a satisfied grunt, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The intensity of his movements drives you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the force of his thrusts.
Seungcheol's hand slides up your back, tangling in your hair and pulling your head back slightly. "Don't forget it," he hisses, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine, and I'll never let you go."
You moan undone, your breathless praise slipping from your lips—"That is so good, so good"—but before you can finish your sentence, you're cut off by a sharp thrust that makes you scream. 
Seungcheol coos,"I doubt anyone can find it like I do." 
He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your head back so you're forced to arch your back, your screams echoing in the room as he hits just the right spot again and again. 
You can feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost overwhelming. "S-Seungcheol," you gasp out, your voice a desperate plea for more.
But he just smirks, his movements becoming even more precise, more calculated. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he's reveling in every moment of it.
Seungcheol is fucking you so hard that tears stream down your face, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. You're almost afraid to lose yourself completely, to let go of all control.  Just when you think it can't get any more intense, his hands find your clit, and you can't help but squirm under his touch.
You whimper as he pulls you up against his chest, his fingers flicking your clit rapidly as he watches your reaction with dark, hungry eyes.
To make matters worse—or better, depending on how you look at it—his hand on your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your already overloaded senses. You squirm and writhe beneath him, the stimulation almost too much to bear.
Your eyes roll back in your head, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to hold on to your sanity. "Breath," he demands, his voice a rough growl in your ear.
You try to comply, but the overwhelming pleasure makes it difficult to focus on anything else. "I-I can't," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much."
Seungcheol notices the sudden change in your demeanor, the absence of your usual moans and the way you've gone completely still, holding your breath as if frozen in time. Concern flashes across his face, his movements slowing as he registers the subtle signs of your impending climax.
"Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern, his fingers stilling against your clit. 
But you're lost, cumming, –almost chopping his dick off with your tight cunt– your body trembling with the force of your release, unable to respond to his touch or his words. You feel like you're floating, weightless and breathless, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.
With a gentle touch, he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have gathered in the corners of your eyes. 
You try to respond, to reassure him that you're fine, that you're just overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure he's giving you. But all that comes out is a strangled whimper, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Seungcheol's worry deepens, and he pulls you closer against his chest, holding you tightly as he strokes your hair soothingly. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Just breathe, baby. I've got you."
A strangled moan escapes your lips as your body softens against Seungcheol's, the intensity of your release leaving you jelly-like in his arms. Concern still lingering in his eyes, he asks softly, "Did you cum?"
You manage a breathless "Yes," a dizzy smile spreading across your lips as you gaze up at him.n "Are you going to fill me up this time?" 
Seungcheol's cock twitches at your words, the desire in his eyes almost palpable as he stutters out a response. "I-I... Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky with need.
You swirl your hips against him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you feel him grow even harder beneath you. His sharp intake of breath is all the answer you need, a silent confirmation of his desire.
"Please," you whisper, your voice barely a breath as you press your body against his, your hands trailing down his neck to grip his hips.
You always asked Seungcheol to fill you up, but he always denied. But now, as he presses you against the bed once again, you lie sideways, feeling his cock slide deep inside you. Your pussy is even tighter around him this time, the sensation almost overwhelming.
You glance up at him, doing that little face you know he loves—biting your lip, furrowing your eyebrows just so. His face contorts in pleasure and frustration when he sees you like this, and he lets out a string of curses.
"Fuck you, Y/N," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck you, why are you like this? Shit."
You can't help but smile, biting your lip as you watch the emotions play across his face. It's a game you both love to play.
Deep down, you knew that you messed with him, and deep down, he knew it too. It was a dynamic between you two that you couldn't deny. You loved to tease him, to push his buttons and see how far you could go, because it ignited something primal in both of you.
You loved the way he reacted to your teasing, the way his control slipped just a little more with each provocative glance or suggestive comment. And he, in turn, reveled in the challenge you presented, the way you pushed him to his limits and beyond.
In your mind, a film passed by, a vivid flashback to a night when you both decided to let your touches get wilder.
Seungcheol's hand gripped your tit, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn't help but grind your clothed pussy against his clothed cock, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
Suddenly, Seungcheol stopped, his grip tightening on your hips as he looked at you with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "No, no we—" he started to say, but you continued moving your hips, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as you begged him to continue. He was reluctant, hesitant, but you could feel the tension building between you, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.
His hips mirrored your thrusts, a silent admission of the desire burning within him. 
He took all of your clothing, stripping you bare as he worshipped your body with his mouth. The sensation of his lips and tongue on your pussy was too much, bringing tears to your eyes as he gave his everything to please you.
You arched your back against his couch, your toes curling with pleasure as you moaned his name over and over again. Seungcheol's gaze never left yours, his eyes dark with desire as he savored every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.
"Seungcheol, d-don't stop! Please, please!" your voice echoed in his mind, focusing on making you cum on his tongue, making you mark him with your essence. 
"Y/N, you slut," Seungcheol pants, his voice heavy with desire and frustration. He thrusts into you, his body trembling with the effort, his expression a mixture of pleasure and suffering. His mouth hangs open, his hair clinging to his face with sweat as he continues to drive into you relentlessly.
"You only make me suffer," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "But fuck, I can't help but want you. Every time I'm with you, I–"
You cut off his confession, your breath hitching as you feel another wave of pleasure building inside you. "I'm... I'm cumming again," you gasp out, the sudden declaration sending you hurtling towards the edge with newfound intensity.
Seungcheol's eyes widen with surprise at your abrupt interruption, but he doesn't miss a beat. He grips your hips tighter, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he drives you towards the brink of ecstasy once again.
You glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, trying to keep them open despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. His moans mingle with yours, the sound filling the room as you both surrender to the ecstasy of the moment.
And then, with a shuddering cry, you feel yourself tumbling over the edge once again, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Seungcheol's movements become more erratic, more desperate, as he reaches his own peak, painting your insides with his hot cum.
His body almost collapses on top of yours, but he sustains himself with one arm, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rides out the last throes of his climax. You clench and unclench around him, milking him for every drop of cum as you let out a relieved moan, the hot cum filling you like a reward.
As Seungcheol quietly gets up and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you. It's unlike him to leave so abruptly after sex, especially when he usually prefers to linger, basking in the intimacy of the moment.
You wait for a moment, hoping that he'll return soon, but when he doesn't, your concern grows. Something doesn't feel right, and you can't shake the feeling that there's more to his sudden departure than meets the eye.
With a sense of trepidation, you push yourself up from the bed and make your way to the bathroom, your footsteps echoing in the quiet of the room. You hesitate for a moment outside the door, unsure of what you'll find on the other side.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you push open the door and step inside. The bathroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the soft glow of the overhead light.
You find Seungcheol standing in front of the sink, his back turned to you as he splashes water on his face. His shoulders are tense, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he's trying to wash away the weight of the world.
"Seungcheol?" you call out softly, your voice breaking the silence of the room.
He startles at the sound of your voice, his movements faltering for a moment before he turns to face you. His eyes are shadowed, his expression unreadable as he meets your gaze.
"Are you okay?" you ask, concern lacing your words as you step closer to him.
He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether or not to confide in you, before finally nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
But you can tell by the tension in his body, by the haunted look in his eyes, that he's anything but fine.
"I'm sorry for being a slut who makes you suffer," you say softly, your words heavy with remorse as you acknowledge the pain you've caused him. Deep down, you know that his hurt stems from your actions, from the tumultuous dynamic between you that often leaves both of you reeling.
But before you can dwell on your apology, Seungcheol rushes to reassure you, his words coming out in a hurried rush. "No, no, you're not," he insists, his voice firm as he looks at you with a mixture of concern and affection.
You exhale softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. But before you can say anything else, the confession spills out of you, unstoppable now that you've opened the floodgates.
"I blocked him," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. 
"Hm?" Seungcheol's head tilt, confused.
"The guy from the date. Actually, I couldn't think about anything else but you, Seungcheol. That date... I wasn't even paying attention to that guy. I just wanted you. I'd rather have stayed with you that day, but I left, and I hurt you–"
But before you can finish your confession, Seungcheol cuts you off by pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "It's okay, Y/N-nie," he murmurs, "I understand. And I'm here for you, no matter what."
Seungcheol hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he asks, "Am I being selfish if I say that I want you to be mine, and no one else?"
You chuckle softly at his question, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. "Not at all," you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. "I want to be yours, Seungcheol. No one else."
A flicker of relief passes over his features at your words, but there's still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "But... is it okay for me to want that?" he asks, his voice tinged with insecurity.
You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course it is," you murmur against his mouth. "In fact, it's more than okay. It's what I want too."
Seungcheol's eyes widen in surprise at your words, his expression softening with a mixture of disbelief and joy. "Really?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, your smile widening as you take his hand in yours. "Really," you confirm.
1K notes · View notes
violettaskies · 8 months
Text
Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
2K notes · View notes
tojikai · 11 months
Text
Sundered 4: GEARS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1  |  Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, suggestive smut, arguments, name-calling, L-bombs(lol)
word count: 6.7k
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Decisions take seconds to make but can take months and even years to realize and regret. 
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“I still love you, Y/N. So, so much.” 
Satoru wept, sniffing as he ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. His vision was cloudy but the memories in his head were crystal clear. The day he met you, the day you told him the news; it was unexpected, but it gave Satoru a warm feeling in his chest. How could he let himself forget that feeling so easily? 
You don’t get to get her back. A voice in his head once again whispered to him, allowing sobs to erupt from his lips. 
The day he separated from you, he told you you’ll make things work, no matter what it takes. A few weeks after that his mother introduced Naomi to him. It wasn’t her job but she helped him work on himself, gave him all that she has to offer, and held him when he felt like losing his mind.
You were almost out of reach, mostly just talking to him when it concerns your daughter. It almost felt like he was fighting alone. It made him feel like he was not changing anything. He barely sees your face; barely feels you. 
And then it happened, in such a short span of time. Naomi was the only one he sees, the only one he feels with him. 
“It could work, you know? But only if both sides are committed to making it work.” She said, “But like these gears,” She pointed at the constructible toy train of his daughter, “The gears will only work if they fit.” Satoru didn’t need to hear any more of her words to understand what she was trying to explain. 
He found himself smiling at her smiles and laughing at her laugh. He found himself saying: “We kinda fit, don’t you think?” nudging her playfully as they walked Yui to the park, earning a shy laugh from her.
He found himself spending more time with Naomi than spending time figuring things out with you. It all just happened in such a short span of time. 
It felt like setting himself free when he didn’t have to think about the problems with you. It was emancipating to just lie under the covers, snuggled up in bed with Naomi’s skin against his. It was a breath of fresh air to share the same breath as her every morning and night as they soak in each other’s embrace, feeling the warmth of their swollen lips on one another.
He wishes that he considered the day he’ll see you like that with someone else. 
To say that he was shocked when you came and saw him with Naomi was an understatement. He didn’t want it to be like that. He wanted to introduce her to you, to explain things to you, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want you to think that you meant nothing to him. But at that time, he thought that he meant nothing to you. 
He searched for the emotions in your eyes but failed. He waited for your questions of “Why?” and “How?” but they never came. It’s like you just really stopped giving two shits about whatever happens in your relationship. And Naomi’s words reverberated in his head: “The gears will only work if they match.” 
And that’s how his decisions were made. 
That you deserve someone who’ll treat you how you want to be treated; that he deserves this serenity with Naomi, too. He’s not some kind of hero to keep heading for war when there’s a humble abode waiting for him. He thought that there was nothing for you and him but different paths. Maybe this is how falling out of love happens, he thought.
And that is how he learned that decisions can sometimes take months and even years to realize and regret. 
“I love you too much to fight anymore, Y/N.” Satoru was pretty sure that he was inaudible and incomprehensible by now. The cracks in his voice and his occasional hiccups were probably louder than any sound near his phone. “You know, I never meant any of the shit I said to you that day. You and Yui were the best thing to ever happen to me, never will I regret you, love.” 
He couldn’t even pay attention to your voice as he harshly wiped his tears away, blinking his eyes to look up at the blurry, colorful lights “I know you’re happy, I know you don’t even want to see me again if you’re given a choice.” Satoru shook his head, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt so as to help with the ache that is now smoldering his chest.
“But I just want to take those words back.” He whispered, running out of breath before quickly gasping, “Hell, I just want to take everything I did after I gave up on us back.” Getting nothing was painful enough, and so is getting up. 
He doesn’t know where he’s going but he trusts that his feet will take them to where he belongs.
—---------------------------------------
“Yeah, she’s sleeping now. Sunburnt and all.” You laughed, tilting your head as you tried to hold your phone between your ear and your shoulder. “‘Gumi talk, Daddy. Pwease,” You heard Megumi’s voice over Toji’s chuckles. You and Yui spent all day at their residence once again. The kids had a mini swimming party with the neighbor’s son, Yuuji. 
You can’t deny that your little girl’s been a bit more energetic nowadays. She’s also learning things, like pouring beverages into a cup; something from the internet that Toji has been teaching Megumi to do. “What do you wanna say?” Toji answered before the little kid’s voice followed. “Yui later. Come later. Uh, bye.” The little message made you giggle.
“She’s asleep now, ‘gumi~ We’ll visit again soon.” You heard Toji playfully scold him to go to bed already before getting back to the call, “I’ll tuck him in now. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” Humming, you said your good nights before ending the call. You watched Yui sleep, caressing her soft, blushing cheeks. 
Everything’s been going good, and you could only hope that it’ll also be good for her.
Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, three knocks at the door almost gave you a heart attack. It’s already late, who could it be? The place is a three-unit, up-and-down apartment, maybe someone got the wrong door. Wrapping yourself in a robe, you walked to the door. There was a muffled sound behind, and you can’t miss your name being mumbled.
You know the voice too well to wait any longer for confirmation.
“Satoru?” You spoke, brows knitting together. His hair and shirt were soaked in sweat. “Hey…” He laughed, standing straight as he stared at you with bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? “What’s going on, Satoru?” You opened the door, letting him make his way inside as you gave him a concerned look.
“I mean it, Y/N.” What is he talking about? You wondered as he looked at you, sobbing all while trying to catch his breath. If somebody else saw him, they’d probably think something really awful happened. Not once have you seen him this broken before; not even when you fought so bad he had to leave the house.
“Satoru, I don’t understand you. You’re dru–“ You were cut off when he wrapped his arms around you, crying on your shoulders as he grabbed the sides of your robe, like a child not wanting to be left alone. “Y/N, please. I know what I’m saying, love.” He was gasping for air as he spoke, pulling away 
“I know I’m drunk but not drunk enough to make wrong decisions.” His laugh lacked enthusiasm. Pulling away, you could see the smile on his face contradicts the big tears cascading down his cheeks. “Did you drive here?” You pulled away from his grasp, thinking about the next thing to do. 
“No, I walked here. Let’s talk, please. Just a few–“ His face was close to yours, begging. His voice broke, and it broke you too and you know you can’t keep listening if he’s like this. “Satoru.” You turned, taking a step away from him. You could hear the shaky breath he took by how quiet it was. 
“Yui’s already asleep.” You informed him, a subtle reminder that you wouldn’t want her waking up to a commotion again. Satoru nodded, lips quivering. “I can call Naomi to pick you up–“ You trailed but it was now his turn to cut you off. “No. I don’t…want that.” He knows it doesn’t sound right, and it gave you the impression that they fought.
“Fine, just your mom, then.” You turned to get your phone but his hand caught your wrist, a secure yet gentle grip. “No. Please.” He sounded like a kid. What has he done that not even the both of them can know that he’s here? “Can I stay here? Just for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch, Y/N. W-we’ll talk later… right?” He was on the verge of crying and you can’t stand there to watch any longer. 
You don’t think it was a good idea, but this is the father of your child. Whatever happens to him will affect your daughter too. 
“Just…wash up. Change. Check on Yui, if you want. I got a folding bed if you want to sleep there.” You turned around before walking back to your room, not waiting for the man to answer. You were planning to have some tea before going to sleep but now you just want to call Toji.
In two rings, you heard his voice from the other line. “Sorry, were you sleeping already?” You paced around your room, pursing your lips. “No, I was just checking on some files. Are you alright?” Concern was prominent in his voice. You wanted to tell him about this because he has a habit of coming over in the mornings. You surely don’t want him getting the wrong idea.
“Listen, Satoru’s here. I feel like he fought with Naomi, I don’t really know. He’s in Yui’s room.” There was a long silence and you got a feeling he was thinking carefully about how to react. “Is he trying to…” Toji cleared his throat before sighing, “Do you need me to go there?” He asked, and you could tell he was not very comfortable with your situation.
It’s only been a couple of months but Toji’s proven nothing but sincerity to you and it was all unconditional. You’re aware of the tension between him and Satoru; the latter being more impolite than the former. But even so, Toji never tried to take away the father role from Satoru. This only heightened your respect for him.
“It’s fine, I just wanted to tell you. I don’t want you thinking anything if you saw him here tomorrow.” You plopped on the bed, massaging your temple as you closed your eyes. “So, you know I’ll be going there tomorrow?” There was a chuckle behind his words. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Go to sleep.” You rubbed your eyes, with a small smile on your lips. Once again, good nights were exchanged between the two of you. You’re just glad that Toji isn’t as shallow as other men. You were worried that your decision to let your ex stay for a night would upset him. Putting your thoughts to rest, you lay down on the bed, feeling the soft mattress against your skin. 
Not even half an hour has passed and another set of knocks startled you. The fact that you have no idea what happened with Satoru made you worry. Could it be Naomi? Was your name involved in their fight? You doubt that she’d come here at this hour, though. You don’t see her as that type of woman at all. 
You don’t even know if they really fought. Thoughts raced through your head as you hurried to the door. You wondered if Satoru was woken up by the knocks. He’s drunk and he sleeps like a log when he's drunk. But it would be different if your daughter starts crying. You don’t really want to talk with him about whatever it is. 
It scares you when you think about how ‘the talk’ with him ended the last time. The day he shredded the last remaining hope you had of him, you and your daughter being a family.
Seeing headlights shining down your window pane, you wondered if Toji really drove here to accompany you. But he can’t be that fast, you thought as you opened the door.
Dressed in her expensive coat and a designer scarf, was Satoru’s mother, and you could already tell that she was not in her best mood. If Naomi and Satoru fought, you’re sure that your name’s mentioned.
Without thinking, you moved out of the doorway to let her in, “Good evening, Ma’am—” Slap. The next thing you know, you were already grabbing your cheeks. The skin was throbbing from the force of the contact and you were sure that this is about to leave marks later on. 
“Won’t you quit being a slut?” You thought that the stinging sensation on your face was already painful, but those words proved you wrong. You felt degraded, humiliated even when no one was around; you felt like your whole being was trampled on. You don’t even know what you did. Does she hate you that much?
She used to claim that you ruined her son’s life. That you were just trying to leech off him so you wouldn’t need to work or use your brain. Those words broke your heart, not for yourself but for your mother who tried so hard to give you all that she can. When Satoru confronted her about it, she cried to him, blabbering about why she was right.
It wasn’t easy to speak about those things, you don’t want to make it seem like you were tearing him away from his mother, all while you were tearing him apart due to your situation back then. But you made sure that he knows the reason why you don’t want her around your daughter so much. 
You wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who coaxed Yui to call Naomi Mama. After all, she’s also the same mother who shoved someone else into her son instead of helping to make sure that his granddaughter would grow up with a whole family. Do you disgust her that much? It shouldn’t be painful anymore at this point. She already won in kicking you out of her son’s life.
“I-I don’t know what’s going on, Ma’am. My daughter’s sleeping can we talk outside—?” Her scoff halted you. You found yourself wishing that you let Toji come over or for Satoru to wake up. “Now, you don’t want your daughter hearing about her mother’s mess?” She hissed at your face, laughing as you pushed yourself to walk out and close the door behind you.
“Satoru’s here Ma’am but I don’t—” Another slap landed on your face and this time it took everything in you not to throw the punch you were saving in your fist. “How fucking desperate can you be?” With her eyes blown wide in surprise, she pushed passed you, mouth foaming with her nasty words. 
“Satoru!” She called out, walking like she owns the place. “You really took advantage of his feelings for you. You’re always so ready to ruin his and Naomi’s relationship so he’d go back to you.” She turned, pointing a finger at you. Your eyes widened at her words. Satoru’s feelings for me? You were confused.
“Just so you know, my son’s never been healthier ever since he left you. He doesn’t need a toxic relationship with a woman he didn’t even choose to be with.” The words were sharp and the way to your daughter’s room felt like you were being shot with each step. You already know that. 
Why does she have to keep rubbing it to your face that you weren’t someone he voluntarily chose to love?
“Please don’t bring the child to this. I know you—” You felt like you never had the chance to speak a full sentence. “Of course, I am not. I won’t let her grow up with you. For what? So she could turn out to be like you, too? Satoru!” The words filled you with dread. You feared that they could easily take her away from you by any means they can. You got nothing to give. 
Before she could even open the door to your daughter’s room, Satoru already came out. The emotions on his face were indiscernible as she stared at his mother. “Don’t take Yui, please. I won’t talk to Satoru if you want, just don’t take my child away.” You cried, ready to get down on your knees but Satoru was immediately on your side.
“What is this? What is going on? Mom!” Satoru held your figure, shaking violently and your skin, cold. You tried to get out of Satoru’s grasp, wanting nothing but to get close to your child who’s already starting to cry. You hated yourself for putting her in situations like this.
“Let me get Yui, Satoru, please. You can’t take her away.” Satoru was now the one baffled. His head felt like someone was hitting his skull with a hammer from the inside. Now, he wakes up to his mom causing commotion in a house where his daughter is in.
“No one’s taking Yui away, Y/N.” One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and the other, shielding you from his Mom. Satoru used to believe that his mother only wanted the best for him. He didn’t realize that what his mom wants for him is not the best for his daughter. “Mom, what are you doing?!” He reiterated through clenched jaws as you slipped away to get to Yui.
“You ask me what am I doing? You! Satoru, what are you doing, letting this whore ruin you and Naomi?” Satoru’s eyes widened, "Mom!" he looked at you and his wailing daughter, holding her against your chest. Terror was clear in her tear-stained face as she peeked over your shoulders, while you try to keep her eyes away from the chaos, “Bad Meemaw, Bad!” She sobbed, pointing her finger.
Satoru was about to close the door when his mother tried to beat him to it. “Is this how you want to raise your daughter, Satoru? In this environment?!” She was fierce with her words and Satoru’s just slowly putting the pieces together as she spoke. “She’s messing with your head, Satoru. Look at her, getting it on with another rich guy to milk, trying to make you come back to her.”
“You're the one creating this environment. Why did you even come here?” He questioned, stepping in front of her to prevent her from getting to you. “Where else would you be? You just called me saying you still love this bitch—” You don’t understand how a person could hate you so much when you’ve done nothing but try to respect them. “Don’t speak of her like that, Mom! You’re not of any help.” There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.
Satoru’s mother was the second wife to his father. Your mother used to say that 'the woman's just bitter because she knows that she’ll never really have his father’s heart even if she’s the one with him.' The first wife of his father went away, not wanting her only child to be in such tough and disconcerting conditions and just letting Satoru’s father be with his Mom. 
Thinking about it now, you realized that your situation is kind of similar.
“Ma, no cry. Ma.” You heard your daughter reach for your face, making you ache even more. History really does repeat itself, you thought. “Mama’s fine.” You felt sorry for your child; for allowing her to witness something this chaotic. You wished that you’re a bit more well off, maybe her mother wouldn’t be so small and fragile against people like her grandmother. 
“I didn’t call Y/N...” Satoru whispered, turning to look at your back as you tried to protect your daughter from the scene. “Just because he’s wasted and he’s telling you that he loves you, doesn’t mean you get to slither up at him like a snake!” Words were thrown at you and only now have you realized the situation. 
Satoru tried to call your number to tell you that he loves you.
Your eyes snapped up at him, catching him looking already looking at you. He did plan to let you know about how he feels. But he didn’t want you to find out like this. He already messed up by letting himself break down and call the wrong person. Hell, he shouldn’t have even said it in a call.
It just hurts so bad. It’s like the words would pierce their way out of his heart and lungs if he didn’t get them out.
He can’t even expect anything, and he doesn’t even know how you’d take it. He could lose you completely after all this and that’s the last thing he wants. Now that you have Toji, he’s got no choice but to stand aside and watch. Like how he made you feel with Naomi. The thought made Satoru swallow as he took in your crying face; his chest throbbing with pain.
“Mom, can you please just leave?” He spoke in a low voice, breathing hard to stop himself from exploding. “You said too much already. Just go, this is my problem to fix.” His mother’s face tells Satoru she’s not letting up so easily and it took everything in him not to scream back at her. 
“Of course, I have so much to say. I am helping you because she has done so much to you–“ Before she could even her sentence, Satoru was already raising his voice at her, making you cover your daughter’s ear. “Mom, all you did was make things worse!” It was a bad sight, you’ve never seen him get angry at his mother. 
Knowing her situation with his Dad, Satoru always chose to be understanding to her. He once told you that he always wants his mother to feel loved and cared for because his father would never give her enough of that. “How could you? All because of–“ She trailed.
“You’re trespassing, Mom.” He said firmly, forcing himself to calm down. She knows what Satoru meant by that. You could file a case against her if she continues to cause trouble. “Listen, I don’t know what this woman fed you, but you better get your head straight.” She pointed a finger at Satoru’s face.
“I created this problem. Let me fix it by myself.” You could tell that fighting with his Mom is the last thing Satoru wants to do. There was a tired look on his face as he shook his head, “I wouldn’t want to create a space between us Mom. But I can’t let you involve yourself in every decision I make.” His mother can sense the light threat in Satoru’s words.
“Then, make the right decisions, Satoru. Stop ruining your life for someone with no future.” Before any of you could even talk, his mother was already stomping her way out of the room, slamming the door like it’s hers, causing Yui to start crying again. You sat there, thinking about everything you just heard.
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright.” Satoru took Yui from your arms, eyes full of worry. Rocking the weeping child in his arms, he hung his head low as you stared at him. You wiped the tears that were about to fall as you stood up, heading to the living room and letting him put Yui back to sleep.
You let yourself cry, you let yourself think. Just when you thought you were getting better, just when you started to accept everything that has happened. Yui’s cries slowly stopped after almost half an hour. You wanted to go there and put her to sleep by yourself but you don’t want her to see you cry anymore. It’s not good.
“What were you trying to do, Satoru?” were the first words that came out of your mouth. He stood there, motionless as he watched you turn away to wipe your eyes. “I…I love you. I didn’t mean it when I said I regret you or Yui. I love you.” His answer was a whisper but it was firm. Your eyebrows furrowed, tears once again threatening to fall. “Why?” You sobbed, “Why now?” 
Satoru doesn’t know what to answer. He doesn’t even know if there’s a right answer but all he knows is he can’t expect anything from you. “I…I still do. I don’t think I ever stopped, I—“ He was cut off by your sharp intake of breath as you clutched the fabric of your robe to your chest. He let himself see how much he destroyed you again, how he heartlessly tore you apart once more.
“Why are you trying to ruin me again? Why are you trying to take away what I just got?” Your shoulders shake as you lean your forehead on your clasped hands. He wanted to hold you but he feared that you'd run away. Like how you’re getting harder to reach right now, with every passing second.
“You have no idea how much I wanted you to say that before all this, Satoru. You have no idea how many nights I had to cry myself, putting myself back together while you were trying to make someone else whole!” You turned to him, cheeks and eyes swollen from crying. “You have no idea how many times I blamed myself for not being the better one for you…” You whimpered.
It felt as though your words were a blow to his body, determined to crush his diaphragm to gouge his heart out as payment for yours that he stomped on so many times. Your hands were visibly shaking as you wiped your eyes with the back of it before speaking again, “You can’t say you love me now just because you want to, Satoru.”
“I know I can’t change anything…” Everything that comes out of Satoru’s mouth makes him feel stupid. If he was you, he wouldn’t even listen to him. While you both had your shortcomings in your relationship, Satoru knows that you wouldn’t have pulled yourself away if he didn’t give you a reason to. 
“...but I can make it better, Y/N. I can prove it to you. Just let me—” He was getting desperate to put his feelings into words but you don’t want to hear it. He should’ve known. “Naomi is a good woman. She’s…a perfect fit for you.” You laughed bitterly, “Don’t hurt her. You know why I didn’t fight even when I wanted to get you back?” Each snivel that you make was a nail to his heart. 
“Because you looked happy together.” The pain in your voice was thick before you gasped for air. “And I didn’t want to be unfair to you and to Naomi.” There was a sad smile on your face, probably reminiscing the day you found out he moved on from you. “So…please. Let’s not be unfair to Toji, too.” You looked up at him, smiling through your tears. 
You looked tired; so, so tired of it all.  
“But I love you…” He breathed out as you stood up, ready to retire to bed. “...I just wanted you to know that.” He grabbed your hand, urgently kissing it as he sobbed. You watched his face contort with sadness, closing his eyes and letting his tear slide over the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head to your palm. 
You looked away, suppressing your cries; feeling it harder to breathe through the pain the more you feel his touch. You pulled your hands away slowly before quickly walking to your room. 
Before you locked the door, you could hear his wails of anguish and the sound of two hearts shattering once more.
—------------------------------------------------
You woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping on your side. What time is it? When did you fall asleep? Yui. Remembering your daughter made your eyes snap open, trying to stand up immediately.
“Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s me, I’m here.” It was Toji, when did he come here? The brightness of the color of your curtains indicates the light of the sun shining down behind it. “I forgot that I fell asleep.” You sighed. In fact, you don’t even remember getting on your bed. The last thing you were doing was crying on the floor beside the bedside table. Did Satoru put you in your bed?
“Satoru left after feeding Yui her breakfast. She’s playing on my phone.” He got closer to kiss your forehead. “It’s too early for phones.” You yawned, covering your face with a blanket before sitting down. “Megumi’s with her, I’m taking their phones away after we eat.“ You nodded, pursing your lips as you remembered all the events from last night.
“Let me brush my teeth, I…got something to tell you.” You can see Toji licking his lips before humming, “Alright, we'll talk about it. I cooked something.” Letting him kiss your cheek as you stood on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands automatically snaked around your waist, murmuring “Let’s talk while eating.” 
You told Toji about what happened the other night. Not as detailed as you remember it but you made sure that he knows everything he needs to know. No matter how awkward it was to discuss for you. There was a blank look on his face throughout the story and you can’t help but feel concerned.
“So that’s why he told me to take good care of you before he left.” It was obvious that he was tense, “I should’ve come last night.” Sighing, you shook your head, “It’s alright, I handled it. Please, try not to worry. You’re my boyfriend now.” You moved to sit beside him, pecking his lips. 
You didn’t know how else to reassure him, you don’t like seeing the defeated look in his eyes. Throughout the day, he would randomly kiss you; burying his face in your neck. He’s more clingy than usual, and although it worries you, you find it really cute.
The following weeks proceeded the same, Satoru picking up Yui and Naomi tagging along wasn’t new but it happened for consecutive weeks now. You don’t know if Satoru told her, but she showed no signs of it. Though her gazes linger between you and Satoru at times, but there’s not a hint of hostility to it. 
You don’t really know how they are with each other in private, but there’s a noticeable change in Satoru’s behavior towards her. “Get your bag from Naomi.” Satoru once commanded your daughter when you came to get her from his house. “Naomi?” She repeated, and running only after he nodded at her, confirming how she should address her.
“Did you take a cab? Toji’s not with you.” He would speak to you in a voice he never did before, it almost shocked you. He lost weight, he looks exhausted. “Yeah, he’s at work.” You answered earning a hum from him. “If you’re comfortable, I can take you home. It’d save you money, you know?” It was now your turn to hum, locking eyes with him.
When did they start looking this gently at you?
“You ready to go?” Naomi cleared her throat, suddenly appearing with Yui behind Satoru. “Yeah, I’ll be driving them home then I'll head straight to work.” He gave her a small smile, picking Yui up before taking the bag that Naomi was giving to you. “Bye, I love you.” Naomi stood on her tippy toes, kissing the side of his lips. “I'll see you later…love you." He responded.
The change on Naomi’s face cannot go unnoticed as she glanced at you. You looked down, feeling bad that she was probably anxious. And the fact that she’s clueless about it all just made it heavier than it already is. 
Satoru opened the door of the passenger side for you. Now, he would usually let you sit on the back. You had to glance back at his house to know if Naomi saw it. You don’t want her to have problems with you when in fact, you're trying to help her.
“How are you and Naomi?” You found yourself asking Satoru as he sat beside you, his eyes watched you from the rearview mirror. “I’m trying. I really am. But I can’t force myself, Y/N.” He looked away, biting his lip. Your daughter was talking to her doll behind you and you’re just grateful that she’s still too young to understand this.
“Satoru, she’s been nothing but good to you. She did a lot of things for you.” You spoke gently. You’re surprised that you could now talk about this more calmly. Because it involves you. And you wouldn’t know what to do if Naomi finds out that her boyfriend’s still in love with you, begged you to take him back and never told her. You don’t owe her anything but you’re not that type of person.
“Would it be right to stay with someone for that sole reason?” He asked, and suddenly, you don’t know the answer. “It might only hurt them more if they find out that you stayed with them just because you feel obligated to and not because you truly love them.” He explained, smiling when he heard his baby daughter call his name randomly.
“It’s Dad. Not ‘Toru” You reached over to pinch her cheek, silently thanking her for breaking the ice. “Toji Dada too? Hm?” You can see Satoru tense up before a sad look flashed in his eyes. “I don’t know, love...Ask Mama?” You can tell he was hurt by how he got quiet. The little joy left in his eyes, now completely gone.  
“You know Toji corrects her for that.” You defended as you stopped at the red light. “It’s good, though. I…” Pausing, Satoru took a deep breath. “I think he’s gonna be that, anyway.” He laughed, tapping the wheel before turning to look at you. 
“You know I just want to prove to you that I love you, right? You don’t have to love me back, I know you’re happy with him.” 
—----------------------------------------------------
Naomi’s been observing her boyfriend for the past few months. She can’t really determine what exactly changed but she knows that it wasn’t the same. The day you picked up Yui with Toji for the first time, she noticed that Satoru prepared more than he usually does. 
At first, she thought it was just him getting more responsible. But when she saw that you came with your new boyfriend, she got a feeling that Satoru wanted to impress. She figured that it was because he wants his baby momma’s boyfriend to think highly of him and left it at that. 
He’s been having mood swings but he’s also been getting more projects to work at so, it’s understandable. She also noticed how almost every movement of his daughter was documented and sent to you when she's with them. It was new because he rarely does it before. But she thought that it was only because your co-parenting plan was going better.
Everything that she notices about Satoru has valid reasons so, why is she feeling unsettled whenever the two of you would meet? It’s an unreasonable feeling because you’re already dating someone. There shouldn’t even be a single concern in her body.
Just a few weeks ago, his mother called her in the middle of the night, asking if Satoru was with him. When she said that she’ll call him to ask where he is, her mother quickly interrupted her, saying that he already replied that he was working overtime for a VIP client. She also said something about not interrupting him because the client’s a big person.
She still texted Satoru that night asking why he didn’t tell her about it. Satoru replied hours later, saying that it was an emergency project that needs to be discussed as soon as possible. After that, he sent another message with ‘I’m sorry.’ 
She came over the following night, intending to give him a soothing break. She prepared thoroughly during the day, wanting to please her boyfriend. Fatigue was obvious in his eyes when she arrived. Like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep.
“I’ll take that tiredness away, just relax in there.” She giggled, sensuously running down her fingers on his skin as she makes sure every physical contact they made was as soft as possible. She went down on him, watching him close his eyes as he grabbed her hair eliciting moans from her.
“Let’s do it without one,” She smiled, excited as she positioned herself on top of him, allowing him to feel her warmth as she pressed her chest against his. It was slow, passionate. He was so gentle with his touches and Naomi wanted to convince him to do it inside her so badly.
She was sure that all those perturbing thoughts of her would also be put to rest if that happens, she thought as she smiles, grinding onto him. But before she could get to that, he halted her, “Wait,” he spoke, reaching for the packet in his bedside cabinet. 
Before she could even speak she was flipped over and it’s now Satoru on top. “I can take Plan B, just do it inside.” She bit her nail, giving him the eyes which only earned a smile, “Can never be too safe.” Not long after that, they both finished. Back then, he would agree to do it inside as long as she takes an emergency contraceptive after.
How come he wanted to be ‘too safe’ this time?
Her worries were put to rest for a little when he held her close when they came to get Yui. It also helped that you're still with your boyfriend. It only lasted for a bit until you had to pick Yui up on your own. Satoru found out that you were taking Yui out for an ice cream and the little girl asked him to come. 
Naomi wanted to join; she was ready to dress up. But Satoru suggested that it should just be the middle day in your schedule, where the three of you would spend time together. It took everything in her not to frown in front of you. She felt rejected, she felt left out. The last straw was the talk she had with Satoru three days ago. 
“What do you think about civil weddings?” She spoke to him, sitting on his lap as he watches T.V. “Huh?” He turned his attention to her, “Civil weddings. Maybe we could have it before the grand wedding, don’t you think?” She wiggles her brows at him, laughing as she daydreamed. Placing his hands on her waist, she kissed his lips softly.
“Or maybe we could put a bun in the oven first so, she’d be with us in wedding photos.” She whispered, half-joking. “Why are you dreaming? It’s still early.” Satoru laughed, taking his hand off of her to get the remote, switching between channels.
“I’m serious, though.” She pouted, hugging his neck. “Yeah, I know. But…It’s not in my plans, yet.” Her heart dropped at his words. She knows that he doesn’t mean it that way but it hurt her that after all the family talk and jokes he made with her, she’ll find out that it’s not even in his plans yet. Naomi wanted to cry, but instead, she got upset. She didn't let him know but she chose not to stay over at Satoru’s that night, claiming that she has paperwork. Before, he would persuade her to stay even if she has to do something.
How come he just kissed her goodbye this time?
It was tough on Naomi. Whenever she would ask Satoru about it, he said that he just got really busy with work. Even when he tells her that he loves her, she can say that he’s not even fully into it. And he doesn’t want to talk to you because she doesn’t want you to think that she’s accusing you when you got a whole new boyfriend.
Picking up her phone, Naomi decided that she just can't take the mystery anymore. “Hey, Mom. Are you free for lunch? I’d like to catch up.”
She just needs some advice. And she thinks that no one knows sons better than their mothers.
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soamericn · 3 months
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𝜗𝜚 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love ‘
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!yn x oscar piastri ) oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. he wins his first race in f1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer.
𝜗𝜚… type , irl
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3
𝜗𝜚… triggers , there is none
𝜗𝜚… authors note , my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
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all he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air. 
Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people. 
Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest. 
Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal. 
He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.
The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth. 
Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes. 
The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice. 
The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.
“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him. 
Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.
“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.
His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.
Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.
Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them. 
They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly. 
Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them. 
When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections. 
His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking. 
She always did. 
She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now. 
Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.
She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection. 
“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his. 
She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips. 
It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.  
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𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws
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cheonstapes · 6 months
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the forbidden fit
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
miguel o’hara x reader - mature
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miguel wasn’t that old, but he still thought that this was meant for younger guys — but if it made you happy…well, maybe he’d give it a shot —
it was buried at the bottom of his closet, a gift you got him for his birthday last year. he wasn’t ungrateful, no, just…hesitant. he knew how badly you wanted to see him in it, but he liked to tease you — a lot. so he waited and waited until christmas to give you what you’ve been wanting for so long.
“merry christmas, cariño.”
half asleep, you whine — shifting to face your husband, his blurry figure standing at the foot of the bed. “mm! merry chris—“ he was wearing it. the forbidden fit, that tight ass compression shirt you bought one size too small, and the grey sweats that clung to his thick thighs. no gift could compare to what you’re seeing right now — he just looked too good, wayyyy too good.
“you like?” like? no, fucking adore.
“turn around, lemme see you.”
the bagginess of the sweats weren’t a match for your man, nuh uh — everything, and i mean everything was on display. you almost regretted buying it when you thought of other people seeing him like this…almost. he was turning teasingly slow, finishing it off by stalking towards you — the muscles under his shirt straining against the fabric. “i can see why you like these so much — my dick’s practically on display, pequeño pervertido”
“you say that like it’s a bad thing, migs — you’re the one that’s hard.”
“maybe cause you’re staring at my fucking dick like it’s a piece of meat.”
“well — technically…”
you couldn’t hold back from letting out a little giggle, you knew miguel was gonna love this as much as you would — it’s no surprise he’s already leaking through the material. pulling him closer by the thin drawstrings, he lets out a breathy moan as your thumb rubs over his concealed tip — legs buckling slightly. “f-fuck, ¿qué me estás haciendo, nena?”
“we need to break these in, babe. why else do you think i bought them if you’re not cumming in ‘em?”
little minx, aren’t you.
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