#I know it's all to do with the lighting in the Night Market but the little pops of colour in their outfits are so pretty
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18+
Perv! Steve Harrington x Perv! reader, F reader, friends to lovers, scent kink, reader being a bit of a creep but Steve's into it because duh, masturbation (f) sexual acts in public, mentions of and allusions to oral sex (f)
WC: 5K
A/N: I was going to split this into two parts but fuck it. Two for one special. Still feeling rusty when it comes to writing so go easy on me, yeah? Also, this one's kind of gross at times. Just a little bit. Nothing extreme but just letting you know incase you're someone who gets squeamish easily. Enjoy!
The hair? sure. Everyone liked his hair.
People usually fell into two camps when it came to Steve Harrington's signature do; either they envied it or they hoped to be one of the lucky ones who got to run their fingers through it.
You used to daydream about the latter when you only knew him from afar but now that he no longer ran with a particular kind of crowd, now that he's just Steve and no longer the King, you managed to get close enough to find out that he smelled nice too.
Really nice.
So, figuring out that he used women's shampoo shouldn't have been the revelation that it was because it made so much sense, his tresses never scented with a wintry pine or spicy cedarwood like most scent profiles marketed to men.
You had your friends to thank for your stumbling upon that discovery, the group of them arriving at your home to bully you out of your PJ's and into a pair of jeans and shoes, uprooting you from your room on a Saturday afternoon for an outing to the fancy part of the mall.
While they searched for new make-up, you wandered a section of the store by yourself, uncapping the pretty bottles in the hair care aisle whenever the sales assistants' attention wandered elsewhere, squeezing each one carefully to sample the array of scents. You did this idly and with no real plans to purchase anything, just something to pass the time while your friends crowded another display a few aisles away, chattering blissfully and swatching lipsticks.
Picking up a fifth shampoo from the lineup of bottles, you brought the uncapped rim up to your face, lightly skimming your cupids bow with it as you gently inhaled. While fun, you'd spent most of your time at the mall feeling a little bored, a small part of you still desiring to go back home where you could lounge and laze in peace. That was until you began to recognize the scent of the newest shampoo you had clutched in your hand, the familiarity of it triggering a whirlpool of memories.
In seconds, your mind plunged back to the night of Jack Sullivan's graduation party. The first time Steve Harrington had spoken to you – really spoken to you since he’d parted ways with Carol and Tommy, seeming much more approachable than he had in the past.
The two of you had ended up sharing the patio swing outside where the air wasn't as thick with smoke and the smell of spilled booze. Making conversation, he offered you a beer he'd originally intended to give Robin before she'd slipped away into one of the guest bathrooms with your best friend Sally. You both knew why, sharing a look of understanding but never mentioning the obvious out loud out of loyalty to your friends.
Then there was the only day it rained in July, remembering the way your fingers brushed against his as you handed him your umbrella. You'd discovered him taking refuge under the awning of the diner you worked at that morning, face twisted all worrisome as he looked up from his wristwatch to the downpour in front of him, forced into walking to work that day due to his car still being in the shop. The only light that shone that day was the gleaming smile he gave you when he thanked you for your kindness.
And then there was the time when you had your head down while scanning a tape at Family Video, bumping face first into Steve's chest when you rounded the corner, his name tag catching on your bottom lip. It was the tiniest sliver of a cut, barely noticeable or painful but oh, how he fussed over you like you were made of porcelain. He’d gone so far as to sit you down on his chair behind the counter as if you might collapse from blood loss at any moment, whizzing into the break room and back with a fist full of napkins to dab the miniscule wound that had already stopped bleeding.
All of those memories and more linked by one scent. This scent.
With your pupils dilating like a cat prepared to pounce, you flipped the bottle over to read the contents.
White frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze and sunkissed musk.
Steve Harrington in a bottle. And the quickest 16 dollars you've ever spent.
And with that purchase came the self-imposed reminder to exercise caution. Upon leaving the mall with your friends, your mood much chipper than when you'd arrived, you made sure to hardly ever use the shampoo when you bathed, afraid that if Steve smelled it on you later, somehow, he'd be able to put the pieces together and know why you'd bought it, even as wildly unlikely as that seemed.
So instead, you huffed the bottle in private on most days, only using it when you knew you'd be spending the day at home. On those eagerly awaited days you luxuriated in the scent as you applied the shampoo in your shower, mind and fingers wandering, working your peaked nipples and your firm clit up to the thought of Steve joining you in your shower and fucking you dumb – tits pressed up against the cold, wet tiles, ass bouncing on his hips as he stretched you open and used you well.
But now that you'd discovered this new kind of hunger you had to make sure to keep it well fed and when the shampoo didn't feel like enough anymore, you set out to purchase his cologne.
The scent was one you had memorized from all of your trips to the video store, hanging around the counter while Steve talked to you about which movie you ought to rent next. You could smell it on his neck whenever he leaned in close on his elbows, face inches away from yours, wishing he'd close the distance and meet your lips with his.
Another trip to the mall had you scouring the men's section like a wolf tracking the scent of injured prey, sampling bottle after bottle of cologne until you found it.
Aromatic sage, dark tonka bean and rich sandalwood. Priced at a cool $39.50 which you gladly forked over because to you, it was all money well spent.
The cologne became part of your nightly routine after that, dabbing drops of the heady scent on your body when you went to bed, the smell making your arousal climb before lulling you to sleep an orgasm later, evoking dreams of Steve throughout the night that made you wake up to your panties all damp and sticking to your core by morning.
You were content that way, the shampoo and the cologne enough to satiate your fixation on the way Steve smelled all while managing to maintain your friendship with him without things becoming weird.
What ended up shattering that peace however was running into him a few weeks later coming out of the Y, just done with a game of basketball as he spotted you passing by and happily waved you down.
He smiled at you just as brightly as he had all those months ago in July, this time dressed in his gym clothes; a pair of green shorts that showed off the thickness of his toned, hairy thighs and a grey t-shirt, the sleeves filled out well by his tanned biceps and its collar darkened by sweat.
Up close, you could smell the exertion on him and that was what became your undoing.
It took every iota of self-control not to rush him to the ground and pin him beneath you, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer the conversation went on and you were forced to compose yourself.
It was the kind of scent you wanted to sink into, more so than the cologne or the shampoo because this was Steve completely unadulterated – that earthy musk, that rugged, almost spicy all-natural scent that you wouldn't be able to find on any shelf.
Barely managing to hold it together until parting ways with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to rest without it, mind already working to devise a plan.
~
"Risve- what?"
You chuckled as the word died on Steve's tongue, knowing he'd trip up on the pronunciation. Reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper sitting on the counter, you wrote the word down for him. "Risvegli. It's Italian", you explain, handing it to him as you do your best to repress the shiver that runs through you when his slender fingers graze yours, trying hard to quieten your mind after all the ways you’ve imagined those very fingers touching you in your most sensitive places.
"It's kind of an obscure flick but I like that sort of stuff. D'you think you could have a look and see if you've got a copy in the back?", you try not to bat your lashes too much when you ask, not wanting to overplay the sweetness to the point that it comes off as insincere or worse, suspicious.
Steve looks down to study the paper, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, you can’t help but notice. The ends of his hair are still damp from his shower at the Y, just as you expected now that you knew which days he spent there before clocking in for work.
"For you? Definitely", he looked back up and smiled at you in that way that made your heart somersault. "Be right back". He leaves you alone at the counter and you make sure to wait for him to disappear out of sight into the back, stamping down a flash of guilt for having sent him off to search for a movie that didn't exist to buy you time.
You'd planned it all last night, stepping away from the counter before heading towards the employee break room, able to sneak in without fear of running into Robin because you knew she'd be spending the day with Sally on her day off from working at the diner.
Steve’s duffle bag is in plain view as you shut the door to the little room behind you quietly, resting on a chair that'd been pulled out from the table where you imagined he probably shared his lunch breaks with Robin.
Striding up to it, you find the zipper and tentatively, you pull it open to reveal the contents. What you're looking for is balled up at the very top, picking up the sweat damp t-shirt with clammy, trembling fingers. You're really crossing a line this time and you know it, your teeth close to piercing the soft skin of your bottom lip as you bite down on it but you can't deny that there's just something so exhilarating about the whole thing too. The lying, the sneaking around, the risk – it's all a little too much and your mind grows foggy with it, dulling your once sharp intuition and giving way to a moment of weakness that has you abandoning caution now that you're alone.
Waiting to do indulge your urges until you're safe at home feels impossible now that you've got your hands on it, eagerly pressing your nose into the damp t-shirt, eyes nearly rolling back as you filled your lungs with the smell of him. It must have been the pheromones, it had to be, awakening that primal kind of desire in you that had you parting your lips and pressing the tip of your tongue to one of the sweat stains, sucking on the sour, salty musk that had soaked into the cotton.
What you're doing is so dirty, damn near repulsive and knowing that just fuels you even more as you begin to salivate. You're too wrapped up in the earthy scent of him, too lost in the taste to notice when the door handle jiggles behind you, too drunk on the sick thought of what Steve’s used boxers must smell like if you were to pull those out of his duffle next when all of a sudden, it's too late.
The door to the break room swings open and in walks Steve, the world screeching to a sickening standstill when his eyes fall on you.
Your own eyes bulging, you watch in mute horror as he takes in the sight before him, the scrap of paper you'd handed him earlier slipping from between his thumb and forefinger, fluttering to the floor like the wings of a dying butterfly.
It's impossible to know what he's thinking. Is it disgust? if so, he hid it well. Bewilderment? You weren't sure. Ice crackles over your bones as the two of you stare for a few seconds longer, Steve's expression still unreadable.
The whole thing's all the more uncomfortable because of the way he continues to watch you like you’re something to be studied, looking contemplative as you trembled in place, wishing for the ground to break open beneath your feet and swallow you away into a never-ending crevasse.
But as the seconds tick by and the ground stays perfectly intact you're left to seek your own respite.
Despite what feels like the blood retreating from your veins, your body shifts into auto pilot as you wordlessly place the rumpled t-shirt back in Steve's duffel and do the only thing you can do in a fucked up situation like this – walk away. Even as he tries to call after you, you ignore his shouts, continuing on a path towards and out the exit, mortified.
You don't go back to Family Video after that. In fact, you avoid that entire street for a whole week.
The days following being caught out by Steve were some of the worst you've had to endure. Shame made a home in your body, making you ache with a belly full of thorns and your thoughts growing increasingly heavy and abrasive as they flood your throbbing head.
For those seven days you carried around the dread of knowing that Steve had discovered that secret side of you, the feeling worsening at the thought of him telling others what he had seen and rendering you some kind of town pariah – even though a tiny, hopeful whisper inside your raucous head told you that he probably hadn't said anything, at least not yet since Sally hadn't even seemed to have gotten word of the incident from Robin.
But that's all it was. A tiny, fleeting whisper that did nothing to calm you.
At home, you buried yourself in your blankets, letting your anxieties exhaust you to sleep and at work you moved as if you were fighting your way through thick slurry – slow and dragging your body from table to table, unsmiling as you took patrons' meal orders and served them their food.
You continued like that all throughout your shift, waiting for the moment you could peel your polyester uniform off in favour of your own clothes and drive yourself home. With only 30 minutes left before closing, your shoulders which had been pulled tight all day with tension began to sag, a momentary wash of relief coursing through you. That was until you smelled it – smelled him.
Whipping around, your stomach plummets when your eyes fall on Steve walking through the door – and to make things worse, he’s carrying that duffle on his shoulder.
He's yet to have spotted you, taking a seat at one of the empty booths though you notice the way his eyes are scanning the diner, searching.
It's obvious that you’re the one he’s looking for as worry courses down your spine like a lightning strike. Was he going to confront you? right here? in front of all these people? Normally you wouldn’t peg Steve as someone who’d do something so cruel but after what he’d caught you doing, a little public humiliation doesn’t seem all that undeserved, you had to admit.
So, carefully you retreat into the breakroom without drawing his attention, pulling a perplexed Sally along with you once you'd caught hold of her by her elbow.
Once safely inside, you all but blubber in her face, begging her to wait on Steve's table, even promising her all your tips for the next week in exchange.
Seeing the distress contorting your face must have made her feel sorry for you because she pulls you in for a quick, tight hug, running her hand up and down your back in an attempt to calm you. You'd only given her little snippets of what had happened at the video store, making sure to alter a few details for the sake of concealing how far you’d actually gone that day. To her, the gist of it was that you'd embarrassed yourself horribly and that was all she really needed to know, springing into action as the compassionate best friend to the rescue.
"I've got it, okay? just breathe", she'd repeated soothingly into your hair, giving you a quick squeeze and her best reassuring smile before you reluctantly unwind your hands from around her, allowing her to step out of the break room ahead of you.
Outside again, thirty minutes drag on like hours while you purposely stick to the part of the diner that's furthest away from Steve's table. You don't dare look at him but you do sneak a glance when Sally walks by with his order, a single black coffee and nothing else which he sips leisurely while you tremble.
If his plan was to confront you then what the hell was he waiting for? There was nothing stopping him from walking up to you while sweat collects between your shoulder blades as you clear the tables of customers who’ve settled their bill and since left. Nothing to prevent him from stepping up to the counter while you nervously rubbed the surface of it free of crumbs and stains to demand an explanation for your bizarre behavior last week. Nothing to stop him from simply walking up to you at any moment and ask to know what the fuck your deal was.
But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he finishes his coffee and casually waves down Sally for the bill while smiling politely. Somehow that causes you even more unease.
In that moment you lose sight of Steve when you’re called over to serve the only other table of customers left, a family of five keen to fit in one last round of milkshakes before they call an end to their meal.
You see to their order despite your shaking limbs, returning with a tray crowded with the cold, sweet drinks, setting each one down carefully in front of the smiling children and their parents before you head back behind the counter with your tray clutched close to your chest. The whole thing must have taken you ten minutes and when you sneak one more look in Steve’s direction you find his booth empty this time.
Eyes frantically searching the diner, you manage to catch a final glimpse of him walking out the front door, bell chiming above him as he departs, leaving the diner and you with even more questions than you had when he'd first arrived.
Had Steve changed his mind? Had he just wanted to make you sweat for the hell of it? Taken pleasure in watching you try to keep it together in his presence while you traipsed around the diner all too carefully like a petrified newborn deer?
Why had he shown up at all today if he wasn’t going to...do anything?
You get your answer fifteen minutes later when wearily, you trudge into the staff room at the end of your shift, pulling open your locker and all but fainting at the sight of what’s been placed inside beside your belongings.
Neatly folded inside is Steve's grey t-shirt, the same one you'd tried unsuccessfully to "borrow" last week The scent of him is instantly recognizable as you inhale shakily, fingers reaching out to touch the slightly damp cotton to confirm to yourself that you weren’t in fact hallucinating the whole thing.
When your pulse starts to settle and the static crackling in your ears starts to cease you notice a little scrap of folded paper placed inside too. Picking it up and pulling it open, it's with a deep, dreamy sigh that your chest blooms with sunny warmth as you read the note, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in a week.
Three months later...
The only good thing about working the graveyard shift at the diner was that Steve always insisted on coming in an hour before you clocked out so he could drive you home.
Occupying one of the booths inside the sleepy diner, he'd keep himself busy with his phone while you worked, perking up whenever you came by to freshen up his coffee or sneak him a piece of pie he hadn't ordered with all his favorite fixings.
It was during those moments that he liked to have a little fun with you, quickly surveying the room to make sure no customers or staff were looking over in your direction before he'd slip his fingers under your skirt and pinch your ass. Sometimes you'd see it coming and other times he'd catch you off guard, cruel delight curling his lips into a smirk whenever you had to stifle your surprised squeals.
And that's as far as he usually took, patiently waiting until he could get you in his car for more but today felt different.
With no new customers coming in in the last two hours, Sally had taken to the break room to work in a nap while the kitchen staff had stepped out back to smoke and deal cards to pass the time. That left just you working the front with Steve as the diner's only patron.
Having no one else around meant you could flirt freely with him now, making sure to look over your shoulder every now and then just incase to make sure you didn't get caught.
You spent that time alone together with his boot gently tapping against your shoe under the table, reaching out and fiddling with his fingers because you always liked to be touching him while you happily teased each other as the minutes passed by.
Somewhere in the middle of your playful banter you noticed Steve's cup was now empty, picking yourself up from the booth to bring over more coffee. As you leaned over the edge of the table to pour, you anticipated the glide of his fingers on your thigh, inching up your skirt to situate them between your legs.
"You're going to get me fired one of these days", you chide him, still holding on to the pot of coffee once you'd finished refilling his cup.
"Good – then I can have you all to myself", he teased back, index finger drawing patterns on your inner thigh, just a few inches below the lacy trim of your panties.
"Steve", you attempt to scold but there's barely any heat there for him to take it seriously, fingers daring to trail higher.
Meeting his heavy gaze, you watch him search your eyes for a moment, the soft smirk that had been tugging at the corner of his lips slowly fading away as something more serious clouds his expression when he leans forward to whisper to you.
"No one's around, baby. Please? Can I?"
It takes you a second before you know exactly what he's asking for without needing him to specify, heat rising up from the depths of your chest and gathering in your cheeks.
He's got that look in his eyes too and you know that this is what it must have looked like the day he caught you with your face buried in his sweaty t-shirt. That feverish glint of potent want making his iris' gleam.
"Steve, it's too risky", you try to reason quietly despite the way your thighs are already parting for him, allowing him to skim the pads of his fingers over the seat of your panties, teasing your waiting folds through the thin later of fabric.
"Never stopped you before", he's quick to reply with wink, making you grow warmer at the reminder.
He's got you beat there.
"I promise I'll be quick", he pleads again softly and it's almost comical how quickly you buckle under the weight of his needy gaze.
"Shit, okay", you concede as you step closer to the edge of the booth and he pulls himself closer too, hand moving higher to cup your ass under your skirt.
You sigh contently when Steve leans forward and presses his nose against the front of your uniform, right over the juncture between your legs. You're careful to keep your grip tight on the handle of the coffee pot you're still carrying when he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent right through your clothes.
Steve liked to joke that you brought out this side of him, the one that made the both of you realize how alike you really were.
It started with the way he liked to linger between your legs after he'd finished eating you out. Your ruined panties spilled out of his back pocket, never to be returned to you as he took his time pressing sweet kisses against your swollen folds and spent clit with his sticky lips, clearly pleased with himself as you fought to catch your breath from the orgasm that'd rippled through you.
And as things progressed, he wasn't secretive about wanting to fuck you so hard and often that the smell of you would linger in the air long after you were done. Or how he liked to nestle his nose in the curls on your mound once he'd finished laving at your pussy – the moreish combination of sweat, saliva and your natural musk making his twitching cock stiffen all over again as he rut into the mattress for a second time, painting his sticky boxers with another generous load.
Other times he'd get on his knees for you, pulling you close by your hips so he could place his face against your clothed cunt and mumble dreamy praises about how good your pussy smelled. And you always loved it when he got like that, even now as your free hand strokes lazily through his caramel hair, letting him do this to you in the middle of your place of work, your coworkers unaware but not far away enough that they couldn't walk in at any moment and find the two of you like this.
"Stevie", you whined softly as you tried to get his attention, a reluctant reminder that the two of you should probably stop before it's too late.
"Jus' a little more, please? need it to tide me over before I can get you alone". His eyes are all glazed over when he looks up at you, tentatively slipping his other hand up the front of your thigh to hitch up the hem of your skirt ever so slightly, his gaze all pleading as he waits for your permission.
With the way he's managed to work you up, your panties more that a little tacky from his attention and your belly tightening with warmth, how could you possibly refuse when you needed this just as badly as he did?
"Fuck. Yes, okay – just be careful", you urge gently because 'be quick' doesn't seem likely anymore.
A look of pure bliss breaks out on his reddening face. "Christ. Thank you, baby", Steve groans appreciatively, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties before burying his face against your clothed mound. He can feel the outline of your cunt perfectly when he's this close – so soft and plump, his mounting greed has him battling the urge to pull the soaked cotton down to your knees and start sucking the tangy slick from your pretty, swollen pussy lips before pressing deeper to lick at your tight hole and all it has to offer.
Restraining himself, he lets out a muffled moan against your core that has your clit swelling and throbbing, your eyes slipping shut while you give yourself to him. It's almost soothing the way he savors you so shamelessly, head partially ducked underneath your rucked up skirt, fingers gently squeezing your ass with his blunt nails making light indents in your skin.
You let him breathe you in for a while longer until you begin to feel a little floaty and more than a little needy from it all, expecting Steve to pull away soon because how much longer could you get away with doing this in public? Stopping him isn't what you want, not really but you knew better than to push your luck by now.
But instead of him reluctantly withdrawing away from you, what you feel next is the wet drag of his tongue along your messy panties, warm, firm and sudden.
Although definitely not unwelcome, under the circumstances, the feeling of it startles you and you can't help but cry out with a yelp, arm jerking backwards as a splash of coffee makes its way onto the checkered diner floor.
Hearts hammering, the both of you rip apart from each other then, Steve with his wide eyes and ruffled hair as he plasters himself to his seat while you very nearly lose what's left of your balance when your shoes skid over the wet mess of spilled coffee. You manage to catch yourself though when you grab the edge of his table with your free hand, finally placing the damn coffee pot down to hurriedly pull your skirt back into place.
Silence overtakes the room as the both of you peer wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen and breakroom, waiting to see if you'd accidentally drawn the attention of any nearby diner staff.
Seconds turn into a minute and when no one comes through either of the doors you allow yourself to sigh out in relief, turning back to Steve.
"Shit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it – had to taste you, honey. You just – fuck, you just smell so fucking good. I needed a little more", he tries to explain when your eyes connect, his cheeks sheened with a thin layer of perspiration and flushed a deep pink.
You were foolish to think you could let him do all of that and endure waiting until the end of your shift to take things further in his car. Leaving him with his lips parted and his jaw slack, you stride away to the diner's entrance to quickly flip the 'open' sign over to read 'closed', rushing back to tug Steve up and out of his seat urgently, grinning when you catch sight of the stiff bulge straining in his jeans.
"Supply closet. Now. Need you to put that mouth of yours to good use."
#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#stranger things#steve harrington x reader
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𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙈𝙚—ex bandmate mizu
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Hey dears!
Back with one of my favorite tropes! I high key feel bad for being away for so long and for being too shy to actually interact with anyone so I'll try to make up for it as much as I can.
Will you be the bad guy in this one? Not sure, that's for you to decide. I hope all of you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa ;*
warning/s: not proofread, angst, cursing, violence (mdni!), toxic, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader
note: I tried fixing some parts because I wrote this while I was drunk and I realized that some parts sucked. I'm sorry, dears!
The sound of cars whizzing past, horns beeping, and the endless conversations of people chatting on the street filled the night. The wind blew harshly, the cold biting at your flushed cheeks. Stars glimmering as bright as your narrowed eyes as you ran, footsteps heavy on the concrete.
Bright lights lit up the city, commercials everywhere of something stupid. Probably the next new hyped up skincare product that was overpriced and didn't work or the next new corny romance film they're trying to sell out. Celebrities' faces plastered on every building, some pretty, some borderline lewd, some dramatic.
God, you hated these fucking displays, always so obnoxious and overly marketed...
Especially her fucking face.
Mizu's stupid fucking face plastered all around the buildings, informing you of her concert in your home city as a way of ending her first oh-so-grand world tour. The new hit guitarist made by Abijah Fowler, the manager of the biggest fucking band in the world. A legend. Anyone he handled turns into a star by the first debut.
Oh, fuck you.
These displays were truly obnoxious, even more so with her stupid fucking face, her stupid hands holding her same old guitar, and her gorgeously blue eyes on display for every passerby to see. For you to see every time you went to work, went to get the groceries, went to...whatever.
Blue eyes reminding you of the times when you were her manager. Of when both of you were young and stupid, when playing in a band was just something you did to unwind and have something to do aside from rot. Reminding you of your promise to make her a star, that talent recognizes talent.
And indeed, she was talent.
She was the greatest fucking talent the world ever saw. Her hands played the guitar as if it was natural to her. As if whatever deity that created her wanted mankind to know what music actually sounded like. Like her hands were made for this. Like she was made for this.
Every time she went on stage, countless would scream for her, cheer for her, throw what ever expensive lingerie they had for her. It took months, maybe even a year, to be able to schedule an interview with her. Her fans would sell their soul for a chance to breathe the same air as her, yet alone be in the same room with her.
Which ever city she went, concert or no concert, paparazzi was waiting for her. Each stage she rocked, she made the floors shake with how hyped her audience got. Everyone who attended had post-concert syndrome. They were star struck. She exuded confidence. She was an icon. Not even the lead singer but she was the front man.
An eye catcher.
Talent personified.
A star.
Your fucking star.
And you hated this bitch with every fiber of your body, with every cell that passed and will pass through your veins, with every nerve, with everything you had. You made her a star, gave her to the best fucking manager known to man. For fuck's sake she even finished a world tour. And this is how she repays you?
Your hands pushed the crowds of people away, legs burning as you tried to run into the backstage. The sounds of people yelling at you, glaring at your figure as you cut through lines echoing across the waiting area.
Was this illegal? Probably.
Who cares?
You were getting this bitch even if you had to be dragged out by every armed force known to man.
Just as you were about to reach the doors, security immediately held you back. Bodyguards grabbing you as you thrashed around, trying to kick them off while pulling your arms away from them. "Let me go! Let me fucking see this bitch!" you screamed at them, nails digging into their skin as they held you back.
"Mizu you fucking bitch! I know you're there! Explain yourself!" you yelled, hissing in pain as security tried to drag you out, yelling at you to leave. Your hair out of the bun you put it in, seams at the corners of your shirt ripping slightly, legs scratched. Their hands leaving red marks on your skin, and yet you continued to try and fight them off, yelling obscenities as they held you down. "Fuck! Get off of me! You motherfucker! You ungrateful bitch!"
With a twist of your arm and an unexpected bite at their hands, you finally broke free from their grasps, only to be tackled to the ground as soon as you tried to sprint towards the door. The impact of your head on the ground making you extremely light-headed. Your vision growing blurry as the warm red liquid started dripping from your nose onto the concrete. You could feel them lifting your body; but just as you were about to drag your body out, you heard a voice. The same fucking voice you were searching for.
"Unhand her. Don't worry she's with me."
Upon her words, the guards looked at each other and security hesitantly let go of you, going back to their stations. With a groan, you sat up straight, blowing the blood out of your nostril before wiping the leftover crimson with the back of your hand as she approached you with an unreadable expression.
Just as you looked up, your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes met. Blue orbs meeting with yours. Those gorgeous blue eyes. Drowning you.
Slowly, you stood up, trying your best to balance yourself. Her eyebrows knitting at how beaten up you looked. But just as she was about to open her mouth...
SLAP
...her cheek was met with a harsh stinging pain, knocking her back slightly. Her chest rose up and down as she panted, trying to register what had just happened, hand slowly clutching her cheek.
Sharp blue eyes glared at you as soon as she composed herself. She watched as you shook the pain from your hand, glaring at her with such loathing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, grabbing you by the collar.
I asked you a question, I wanna know why
Why'd you have to make a record 'bout me?
"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" you yelled at her, eyes narrowing further as you continued to glare at her, no longer caring if her hold on your collar was choking you. "Answer me, Mizu. Why'd you have to make a fucking song about me, you stupid jackass?"
Her eyes scanned your face, looking over every detail as her grip on your collar tightened. Even with a scratched up face and a bloody nose, you were still so beautiful to her. The most beautiful woman she has ever met.
"That's what you're here for? Hah..fuck...I'm with my own band. Stay out of my business," she said in low voice, pulling you closer, jaw clenching as if holding back some sort of unexplainable anger towards you as well. An exasperated yet angered expression washed over your face at her words.
"Stay out of your business?" you repeated before letting out an angry sarcastic laugh. "How can I when you fucking used my picture? Our picture? On a fucking diss album, for fuck's sake! Are you stupid?!" you yelled, hand gripping her hand around your collar tightly until your knuckles turned white, until your nails were digging into her skin.
That's right.
A whole fucking record about you. A whole motherfucking album dedicated to you. This is how this jackass repays you.
The track list started with innocent cute little love songs about how much she admired you, how much she fucking tried for you, how she constantly played her heart out just for you to realize how in love she was with you.
Then, it went on to heavier songs, talking about how you sold her. How you were a fucking traitor who threw her into the pit, making her feel as if you would be there for her no matter where the band's musical journey took off to only to leave her.
And you wouldn't have minded if it was just some kind of corny ass typical romance album with cheesy lyrics a little angst. Every band had that at some point. Maybe it wasn't even dedicated for you. You hoped it wasn't dedicated to you. However, the moment you saw the album cover, you could physically feel the color draining out of your face.
But it's alright
'Cause it was all in my mind
To begin with (And you don't know why)
It was a picture of you and Mizu in the old studio. Your body turned to the side as you wrote something on your clipboard. Mizu was at the background tuning her guitar. Of course they had the decency to blur out your face, but you knew.
You fucking knew.
God, you loved this picture so much.
"Mizu...do you think we should add crushcrushcrush to our song list for the next gig," you asked, eyes trained on your clipboard. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. Damn, this client was stingy. Only 3 songs? How were you going to fit a whole ass gig into three songs?
She looked up from her guitar before her eyes glanced at Akemi who was just beside you, giggling as she looked at her digital camera then back at her with a sly smile, showing the camera to her mischievously. Mizu immediately turned around in fear of her face being captured in the photo, fiddling with her guitar while she thought of an answer. "...Well if you want a Paramore song, I think Ignorance would be better," she said quietly but loud enough for you to hear.
"Although...I still think One Weak is better. Make Taigen sing or something," she suggested, plucking the strings of her guitar as she tuned it. A small 'I second that' could be heard from Akemi as she pointed the camera towards you. Your eyes widened in delight at the suggestion, immediately writing it down on your clipboard. "That's not a bad idea! Not bad at a—"
You were cut off by the loud click sound of a camera, followed by the bright lights of the camera flash. "Oops.." Akemi mumbled sheepishly as she watched you rub your eyes. Just as she was going to hide the camera in her bag, you waved your hand around before gesturing her to give it to you.
Mizu couldn't help but be curious, setting her guitar down to take a peek. "Woah..." you mumbled, grinning at the picture.
It was perfect.
The slight tint from how old the camera was gave it a vintage look. The way your skirt rode up slightly from how you crossed your legs gave it a slightly lewd feel. And along with your combat boots? It definitely had that edge. Y'know? Like that little irresistible charm that made you stare at album covers like Around the Fur.
Mhmm.. don't even deny it. We've all stared at that album cover before.
Even the way Mizu was standing at the background looked so badass. Her back turned from the camera, so sturdy and strong. She definitely had that natural mysterious vibe that drew everyone in.
Everything about this picture...made your heart race.
"Looks like an album cover," Mizu commented, sitting down next to you. A small blush appearing on her cheeks as her eyes traced your legs. The three of you nodded in agreement, each with your own smiles. "Hmm.. maybe if we make it big somehow. We could use this," Akemi suggested.
You nodded, smiling at the photo fondly. "Yeah, let's make it big together," you mumbled, eyes still staring at the picture. God, you loved this picture so much.
God, you hated this picture so much.
Keep the chaos 'cause you don't know why
"Oh don't be such a fucking narcissist. Just because we used a picture you loved so damn much, doesn't mean its for you," she growled, hairs on the back of her neck standing up from anger.
Slowly, her hands gripped your collar tighter, ignoring the pain your nails were inflicting on her, shoving you until your back collided with the cool metal of the trailer. Your body trapped between the vehicle and her body. The tension was so thick it was suffocating you.
You could feel the air being squeezed out from your throat as you continued to glare at her, not letting this go. "Then tell me, Mizu." A small cough escaping your throat as your breathing turned into wheezing. "Who...who is this stupid fucking album for?"
Her eyes narrowed at your question, continuing to stare at you intensely but gave no answer. Although the slight tremble and weakening of her grip told you that you definitely struck a nerve. The silence was unnerving and even with the lack of oxygen, it was pissing you off.
"Answer me, you bitch!" With the remaining energy you had, you lifted your leg before stomping it towards her, digging your foot onto her stomach.
Immediately, her hands let go of your collar as she reeled back, coughing and wheezing. Your hands rubbed at the area where the friction from your collar burned your skin, trying to soothe it as you tried your best to regain your breath.
It was a good try, but Mizu was strong. So strong and well-built. The body that used to keep you close, holding the umbrella for you, trying to hide the shiver in the cold so she could lend you her jacket, was now pinning you to the ground. Knees weighing down on your hands and her weight pushed on to you. You loved her. You hated her. You love her so much.
I heard your song but I wasn't impressed
So, you got your feels hurt and now you're feeling depressed
Just because we had sex and it didn't last?
Now you want revenge, you wanna put me on blast?
"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now," she said in a low voice. Her long, rough, slender fingers wrapping around your neck, squeezing it lightly. You could feel the hesitance in her hold, the slight tremble of her hands and the almost invisible quivering of her lips, contrasting the harshness of her expression.
"You're such a fucking bitch," you coughed out, eyes narrowing as you tried to lift her weight off your body. "Tell me who that motherfucking album is for! Spit it the fuck out!"
Eyes narrowed further as she gritted her teeth, jaw clenching. Her hands squeezing against your throat further, other hand balling into a fist as she lifted it out. Anger emanated from her gaze, burning deeply as she looked at you. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then her soul must be either dead or burning with rage more than ever. And yours? Yours filled with a type of hatred that seemed to deep to be quenched.
No, don't look at her like that.
Fists raised and clenched tightly, mind violent and filled with rage. And yet, she could see no fear in you. Even with the threat of pain, you looked at her with no fear, as if you thought she could never hurt you. Even with the threat of pain, you felt no fear, as if you knew she could never hurt you. Mizu could never do that to you.
So please, don't look at her like that
Her breathing became heavier as she continued to glare at you, fist shaking until eventually letting go. She let out an exhale, eyes glossing over ever-so-slightly. 'What the hell am I doing?', she thought, throat tightening as a lump formed, making it hard for her to breathe. Your form under her, too beautiful, too lovely.
She couldn't do it. Not to you.
Slowly, she got off of your body, sitting on the spot next to you as the two of you looked up at the sky, except her eyes were on your figure. You took a deep breath before eventually looking at her, admiring her features. "You changed so much.." you mumbled, glare softening but still there. "Tell me. That album...was for me, wasn't it?"
A sigh escaped her lips before she gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Why?" you asked, sitting up slowly.
"Why'd you have to.."
"Because you're a fucking liar."
Your eyes widened before narrowing into the harsh glare it was before. "Liar? How am I a liar?" you almost yelled, voice a bit raspy.
Her eyes glared back at you, nails digging into her own skin of her palms. "You fucking sold my contract. To Fowler of all people!" she exclaimed. "Have you ever considered how I felt? Did you even think of me?"
"Of course I thought of you! If I didn't hand over your contract to Fowler, you wouldn't be where you fucking are!" you yelled back, turning to face her. "Look at you now! The biggest and fastest rising star! People are praising you like you're some sort of modern Kurt Cobain, Mizu! Can't you be fucking grateful?!"
Grateful?
Don't make me laugh
She stood up and grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you up harshly, your sides almost colliding with the trailer yet again. Rage enveloping her being, radiating from her as she approached you, fingers digging into your shoulders. "You didn't think about me! Fuck, you didn't think about any of us at all!"
"How about Ringo? Taigen? Akemi? Where the fuck are they now after you disbanded us, left us all rotting, for Abijah's stupid fuckin' agenda?!" she almost croaked out, face getting closer to yours. Her jaw clenching as her hands trembled in both anger and the desire to be soft with you.
You couldn't believe what she was saying right now. You didn't even think of her? How could she say that after you gave her to the best, to make her dreams come true? Harshly, you pushed her off of you. Now it was your turn to grab her by the collar, pulling her to your height. "Abijah's 'stupid fucking agenda' is what got you where you are, Mizu,'' you growled. "Talent recognizes talent and Abijah is the most talented manager in the industry and he wanted you. The kingmaker wanted you."
A strange sense of disappointment towards you swirled into her eyes. It was stupid of her to think that if she met you again, things would go back to the way they were. An unexplainable retching in her gut welling up as she listened to you speak. Was this it? Was this why you sold her fucking contract?
"You wanted to be a star, he made you a star. I made you a—"
"I never fucking wanted to be a star!" she yelled, glare hardening. Confusion painted over your face, making the anger in your eyes falter. Her disappointment and dismay in full view as opposed to the anger she held earlier. "I don't understand, Mizu. Isn't this why you joined—"
"I fucking joined your stupid band to be with you, dumbass," she sighed, pulling your hands off of her collar. "It was never about making it big. I just...wanted to play and be with you."
Her hands held yours softly as she looked away. "You told me we'd stay together as a band. That we'd be together no matter if we made it big or not." The grip she had on your hands trembling slightly as it tightened. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before looking at you straight in the eyes. "But you're a fucking liar, aren't you?"
For the first time since you've heard of Mizu's concert in your home city, you were speechless. Thoughts empty as you tried to process her words. Hatred quelled deep in your heart. "Mizu.. I really don't understand," you replied, hands desperately trying to hold hers as she tried to pull away.
She looked down at you with a sigh. The heavy feeling weighing down both your chests. With one look at your eyes, she knew this was too difficult for both of you. And maybe, this was just how the world worked.
She loved you. She loves you. But she can't help but hate you too.
"Go. Get the fuck out of here," she said coldly, turning to head back, making you even more confused and even a bit more pissed off. An unexplainable anger gnawing at her insides, making her throat tighten. "I don't want to see you ever again."
Her feet made its way towards the backstage. Ringing echoing in her ears as you plead her to come back, to explain, to talk to you. She heard nothing because she knew nothing would get her feelings into your dense little brain. This was pointless.
Before opening the door to head into the backstage, she took one last look at you. Her eyes tracing your figure, admiring your features that she had grown to love so much. Even with your bruises, anger, and hatred, you really were the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.
Just as she was about to turn away, your hands traveled to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to your waist, sticking your tongue out as if to mock her cowardice. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she caught a glimpse of your underwear.
'It's pink', she thought with a groan, glaring at you before storming inside and slamming the door behind her. Once she was inside, she hid her face behind her hands, breathing heavily. How fucked up did you have to be to tug at her heart at a time like this?
She really did hate you. You really did hate her.
The feeling was mutual.
#bes mizu x reader#blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai x reader#mizu#mizu x reader#bes mizu#bes x reader#blue eye samurai mizu#mizu imagine#mizu x you#bes#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu x fem!reader#Spotify
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If All is Lost, What Then?
Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader
Genre: SMUT (18+)
Words: 5.9k
Sypnosis: If all hope you had was lost, what then?
You sought a certain gambler for a specific need and purpose. You don't know how it will end up, yet it's not like it matters. It was all transactional anyway, and you'd get what you want. But what you haven't considered was how fate works in inexplicable ways.
Warnings: implied suicidal tendencies, loss of virginity, creampie, self-destruction
A/N: Hi! this is the promised Aventurine fic! It may be a little heavy, any I didn't go into the specifics so everything is a little vague. But I do plan for this to be part of a larger story! Everything will probably be explain there! Please pray tho that I finish that one...
THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. BY CLICKING THE READ MORE BUTTON, YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND LIABLE FOR THE DECISION YOU MADE.
The night was young in the golden district.
The lights, the laughter and the silent laments of its numerous guests and residents encompass the gilded capital of the Corporation. As if they had all gathered there at a single point where all the greed, the glamor and the glib were all contained in a single drop. And the planet’s skies seem to glow in response, its dark purple-red hues become a tantalizing backdrop against the shimmering visage of the city underneath.
If Penacony was too far of a dream for the mundane and the ordinary, Pier Point would come close to second in the list of places to create superficial dreams, waste money and shatter futures. Unlike the planet of festivities however, Pier Point does not dwell with pretentious marketing--the fact that it is the headquarters of the most lucrative business in the cosmos is enough to gather personalities attracted to power and wealth like moths to a flame.
And that sort of reputation was the reason why you were there. It didn’t care who you were as long as you had a pretty penny on your name, and you had a lot of it. Your clothes seem to reflect this casual display of wealth--not too ostentatious to be deemed a wannabe nor too ordinary to be looked down on. A black silk dress draped over your body like some forlorn goddess of some faraway planet and adorned by miniscule gold chains which accentuate your neck and framed your face in sultry perfection. It was simple yet elegant.
Despite its beauty, your clothes felt like armor against your skin--an efficiently calculated strategy, a means to an end. You were no different than the people who pollute the alleyways of Pier Point, searching for something, anything the city could give in exchange for credits.
Paying for a cab to take you to the more lavish parts of the city, the scenery gradually transitioned from grimy streets to immaculately trimmed lawns and dimly lit hotel lobbies. You almost scoffed at the gradation. Leave it to the IPC to visually demonstrate a massive wealth gap.
Yet you shook your head at the thought. Tonight you didn’t care and you didn't think. Thoughts become spiraling steps towards the dark depths of your being, and you didn’t want to go there again. Right now, you have to do everything you can just to keep your head above the waves.
Your ride casually dropped you in front of a formidable-looking façade. Its massive brutalist columns and large windows seem to reflect the concept of the Preservation--the patron saint of the IPC. But there were various iterations of what the Aeon Qlipoth represents, and you were sure Pier Point, and therefore, the IPC represented the gluttonous and selfish need for safety and stability. Yet this building seemed out of place, even reminding you of Jarilo-VI architecture, a different variation of the same path. It would have sparked your curiosity on any normal day, yet your spirit was exhausted, down and beaten. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask why.
Amber Gardens: Hotel and Casino. You smiled as you climbed the concrete steps. How fitting.
The ongoing party was your target. Just like many parties in Pier Point, it attracted the right people you needed, and they will not consider refusing your request. For the next few moments, you sat at the bar in the hotel lobby, sipping a sallow-hued cocktail which seemed to taste faintly of vanilla and lemon drops. It was a much-needed remedy to numb your frayed nerves and to silence dark imaginings. As you drank the bubbling liquid, it burned the stubborn demons still lingering in your thoughts, washed away by the alcohol as easily as the tide. What was left was an impulsive drive strong enough to leave everything you built burning and wasted.
It was no question if what you had in mind will succeed or not. The fish will take a bite no matter what, you mused. Much to your surprise however, it didn’t take that long for something to come back reeling. Who would’ve thought the fish was that eager to take the bet?
“Look who’s wandered around here.” A drawl echoed beside your ear, too close in fact that it almost made you jerk away.
“I expected a warmer welcome, Senior Manager,” you replied with an arched brow and a jaded look which was only responded with a light chuckle.
You gave him an immediate once over. He was the same as ever--still extravagant, still cocky and still as handsome as ever. He may have donned a simpler white suit over a teal dress shirt now, yet everything from his shades to his accessories screamed he had money to waste. You could only grimace at his wardrobe choice.
As a senior manager of the IPC, Aventurine was talented in doing business, yet to him, that business seemed to look more like a game of poker than anything. You had initially met him at a random work-related function, similar to the party you had tonight, and you were right to assume that he was every bit crazy. In any normal day, you wouldn’t dare approach him for your wellbeing, yet tonight, you needed that devil-may-care attitude to lay everything to waste.
“So? What brings you here, little miss--“
“Y/N. Right now, I’m just Y/N.” You interrupted, eyes daring him to challenge you.
Aventurine hummed at your sudden interjection. Interesting.
There was something different about you tonight--a little derailed and out of bounds. Aventurine always had a keen eye on these things, it helps with the gambling, and he could immediately tell that you are in need of something. You who always seemed so put-together, so full of promise, so unlike him…yet right now, you look like you were only held together by one piece of string, and if snaps, who could tell what will become of you.
“You didn’t come here just to taste some drinks, did you?” he asked with a sly smile, nothing betraying the tone of his voice. “Can I help you with something?”
You leaned your head to the side, allowing him a view of your bare neck adorned with glimmering gold chains underneath the dim lights of the bar.
���You could say I’m in need of something only you could give.”
“Oh?” he grinned, his bright eyes shining even through the cover of his shades, as his fingers began to trace yours on the champagne flute you were holding. Without you going into details, he could already tell what it is you wanted. It’s not a bad trade-off, in fact, he might actually gain something here.
“Are you sure though? Once it’s done, you can’t do anything about it.”
You didn’t try to move your hand away. Instead you allowed him to play with you, teasing your fingers with light touches.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you replied. “I have nothing else to lose.”
Aventurine smiled at your now intertwined pinkies. “I admit, hearing you say those words gave me a little shiver.”
You smirked. “Do they suit me?”
Aventurine chuckled, removing his shades and placing them on the table. “Never in my wildest dream did I imagine you’d approach me like this, but…”
Leaning towards you, he easily seized your hand and entangled his fingers on yours. “I would be a fool to leave you like this.”
Without even waiting for you to respond, he then brought your hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand as a romantic gesture. At that moment, you realized how effortlessly he could enchant anyone he wishes. It scared you for a moment, but Aventurine was exactly the man you were looking for. Even with fatigue and apathy seeping through your bones, he made your frigid heart skip a beat with no trouble at all.
“You sure have a talent for this…” you muttered mindlessly, earning a smile from the blond gambler.
“Isn’t that why you approached me in the first place?” He replied as he stood up and offered a hand to you. “C’mon. Why don’t we continue this in a more private space?”
*
Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it to happen like this.
It was so easy for Aventurine to set every vein in your body ablaze with simple nips and bites, so easy to set shivers down your spine at every slight and wanton touch. You could only cling to him for dear life as he ravished you against a wall of a dimly-lit hotel room.
“Is this…what you had in mind, YN?” he asked, smirking as he assaulted your neck with kisses.
“I--nggh!”
It was already impossible to reply at that point. You, who was never held like this before felt incredibly overstimulated; each touch foreign and arousing. It was like having a taste of drugs for the first time, and you were easily becoming addicted to the novel pleasures he was introducing you to.
“Come on, princess,” he teased, as he enjoyed tracing his lips on your bare neck and shoulders. “Is this all you can handle? We haven’t even started yet.”
“Aven…turine…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
He could barely manage to control himself, yet here he was saying things. Your half-lidded eyes, your wonderful curves draped over by messy clothes, and your sweet, sweet sighs whispering his name as if in prayer--it was as if everything about you was made to arouse him. Aventurine already had his fair share of sexual partners yet something about you made him feel like it was the first time.
He brushed his cold fingers against your ear, making you squirm so adorably. It was so easy to tease you—he could plant kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—and you reacted just enough to make him want to bully you.
Oh, Aventurine…you got lucky once again.
“Y-You…stop playing with me…!” you scolded him, brows furrowed and frown deepening.
“How can’t I?” Aventurine chuckled. “You’re so cute.”
“Ughh…flattery will get you nowhere…”
He laughed again, but this time, his swift fingers effortlessly divested you of your dress, allowing it to pool at your feet. Immediately, you squealed and tried to cover your now almost-naked body with minimal success.
“Is this funny to you?!”
Seething, you glared at him despite how flushed your cheeks were. What made you more annoyed was when he thought of lifting your chin with a finger, and leaned close; just stopping short of kissing you.
“You’re not used to this, are you?” he asked with a grin.
“…ugh,” you scowled further, but refused to say anything more. It seemed to have amused Aventurine further.
“Sorry, I won’t tease you anymore,” he conceded with a defeated smile, brushing a thumb on your lips.
In that moment, the both of you stared in silence; waiting for a beat to pass by. You finally had the chance to explore those deeply vibrant eyes he usually kept covered, and in those depths you have found no light—like an ocean with neither sun nor moon. How ironic, you thought. A person who seemed to flash and gleam like a jewel actually had no light of his own. In those brief moments, the playful mood had died down, only to unravel a somber truth that the both of you may perhaps be in need of the same thing.
“...kiss me, Aventurine,” you dared, coming out as a low growl.
Again, the blond only smiled at you solemnly. He held your cheeks with both hands; so gentle that you almost thought he was holding his lover.
“I’m not that cruel,” he replied, leaving kisses all over your face except your lips. “Let someone kiss you out of love, not out of desperation.”
Ah. You smiled bitterly.
“Alright, I understand,” you replied, your fingers clinging to his arm. “Just…help me forget all of it.”
“Don’t worry, princess. I never disappoint.”
With those words, Aventurine pushed you back to the wall, pinning you so you can't escape while returning his lips to your neck and collarbone. Everything after that felt like a flurry of bodies moving against each other, of lips exploring every nook and cranny, of hands caressing each curve and dip. In the process, he had divested of his shirt together with your underwear.
He refused to take your first kiss, but Aeons…did he take everything he could. At this point, you were leaning against the wall while he was kneeling in front of you, arms circled around your thighs to keep you from moving. You were so dazed, your brain unable to keep up with his relentless ministrations.
“W-What are you…”
“Just stay still, princess. I’ll show you a good time.”
Suddenly, Aventurine buried his face at the apex of your thighs, taking a swipe at your already drenched cunt. He kept at it mercilessly, stimulating your sensitive nub until your knees felt weak and you had to hold on to his shoulders to keep you from falling. It was a totally novel sensation—you never thought it would feel this way, not in your wildest imagination. Even though you had played with yourself numerous times, someone eating you out was definitely something else.
“A-ahh…w-wait! Aven..turine…!”
The stimulation was too strong, and you were scared where you’ll end up if he doesn’t stop now. However, it seems Aventurine had no intention of stopping even though your hands were pulling on his hair. The pain, the sweet taste of your juices, plus the sound of you screaming seemed to only make his pants tighter.
“F-fuck…! I can’t…!”
He always thought there was something innocent about you, even during such dirty acts; and he can’t help himself from bullying you further. So even though you were screaming for him to stop, he only slipped his tongue further into your hole, as his nose brushed against your clit. Your subsequent sobs made all of it worth it.
“Hnghh…!! I c-can’t hold it…Aventurine…p-please!”
You could hardly keep your eyes open anymore. The stimulation was too much that you were already seeing stars. Every time he would press a thumb on your clit, an electric shock would shoot right up your spine, winding you up right until you were at the brink of climax.
“Don’t hold back, princess.”
The rumble of his voice plus a flick of his tongue on your clit were all you needed to come tumbling down; moaning his name over and over again as your body shook and quaked. You have never experienced an orgasm like that in your whole life—so if this was what it felt like when he was only eating you out, what more would it feel like if he was buried inside you to the hilt, filling you to the brim with his cum?
In Aventurine’s eyes, there was no better view than watching you come, all flushed and shaking, while he was squeezed between your plush and soft thighs. If the Aeons permit, he’d love to spend hours just down there pleasuring you over and over again until you pass out.
But that was a thought for another day. For the meantime, Aventurine released you from his confines and caught you in his arms before you fell to the carpeted floor. Even through the mists of post-orgasm, you were entranced by his bright eyes as if they were beckoning you closer. And you nonetheless allowed yourself to be enthralled—kissing his stained cheeks; kissing him anywhere and everywhere you could reach.
And even your kisses seemed so innocent, he thought. An awful guy like him who had taken advantage of you during your moment of weakness does not deserve such kisses. Yet, even though racked by guilt, he couldn’t stop you nor himself. Perhaps he should think like you, pretending this was something fated, something deserved. For tonight, you were lovers.
“Hey…um…” you suddenly pulled him out of his reverie. “I want to…return the favor. Can you…um…teach me how?”
Aventurine was almost too stunned to speak, but he thanked his wit for being able to recover as quickly. Seems like he has chewed more than he could swallow.
“You don’t need to, princess,” he smiled, once again cupping your cheek and brushing a finger on your lips, imagining what dangerous things these lips could do to him. “The pleasure was all mine.”
“No…you don’t understand. I want to…uh…learn how to do it, so to speak…”
He signed internally. Who would have thought little miss Y/N could do this much damage to him? Who knew that cold and frigid little you could affect him so much?
“Then who am I to say no?” he replied with an easy smile. “Let’s start by going on your knees.”
Immediately, you did as you were told. Like an obedient student, Aventurine thought. You were never going to make this easier for his self-control, will you?
The sight of you kneeling, looking at him so innocently did wonders to his brain. It was as if he had stumbled into a power trip—if he wasn’t careful, he’d scare you for life. At the same time, he wasn’t keen on stopping. It was already too late to stop.
“What a good girl,” he remarked absentmindedly, placing a thumb on your lips. He closely watched his thumb press and prod your soft and plush lips, thinking how it would feel around his cock. He thought of you looking at him in anticipation, these lips pressed on the tip of his shaft. He shivered.
Finally, pushing beyond, his thumb was only greeted by your warm tongue.
“That’s right. Imagine it’s my dick. Use your tongue. Suck it, play with it…lick as much as you want.”
You followed his instructions down to the dot. Everything he asks of you, you did perfectly and diligently. Considering who you are, it would be embarrassing to be accused of not following instructions, wouldn’t it?
“Seems like you have an aptitude for this,” he snickered. “Not that I’m surprised.”
In no time, he had three fingers in your mouth—nudging and playing with your tongue, mesmerized by how you wrapped around him. Aventurine couldn’t help but think of his cock in your mouth as you bobbed your head up and down just like how you did with his fingers. He’d bet your mouth would be so warm and tight; he’d come right away.
“Am I doing good?” you asked as you looked up at him, voice muffled by his fingers.
Fuck…
You might’ve not noticed but Aventurine was close to imploding. The naive look on your eyes, your flushed cheeks and how erotic your tongue was wrapped around his fingers—everything about you seemed to be designed to break his self control. He doesn’t fuck like an animal, but Aeons forbid he might as well if you were going to be like this.
“Alright. That’s enough. I think you’re ready,” he pulled out his fingers from your lips and licked them, tasting you as he gazed right into your eyes.
The effect was instantaneous. You shivered in anticipation as you took a nervous gulp. You never imagined anyone would look so sexy while licking their own fingers, but here you were, flushed and bothered. Your core was already drenched since earlier—your sticky juices dripping down your thighs to your legs.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his belt unbuckling. Once again, anticipation exploded in your gut and made your heart race. You never imagined you’d do something like this, but here you were. Watching as he unzipped his pants, he finally took out his hard cock from its confines. Eyes widening in surprise as you realized how big and hard he was, you suddenly weren’t sure he’d fit in your mouth. Practicing with his fingers seemed like a huge understatement.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he reassured you with a grin on his lips, cupping your cheeks once again. “I’ll be sure to help you out.”
Aventurine then held his hand out to you, which you took immediately.
“Now, I want you to hold me,” he told you, as he placed your hand on the base of his cock. You could feel your heartbeat on your throat, waiting patiently for further instructions.
“You can lick me just like you did with my fingers,” he said, fingers lifting your chin up. “You can take me in nice and slow. I’ll be patient.”
Ignoring the thunderous sound of your heart racing, you tentatively licked the tip of his cock, watching his every reaction with such attention. With every moment passing, you gradually became bolder and more excited, until you earned a growl from Aventurine after swiping your tongue from the base to the tip.
“Hey, easy there, princess,” he chuckled with bated breath. “You’ll make me come in no time.”
For some reason, his breathy groans encouraged you further. There was something so addictive and so enthralling to the sound of his sultry voice, which made you want to please him more. Every time you would trace a vein with your tongue or whenever you suck on his tip, he would hold your hair tightly and try to resist the urge to climax so early.
If Aventurine was honest, he could tell it was really your first time. You were sloppy and slow, and there were times he thought you were teasing him by not going any further. But inexplicably, he was so hot and bothered at that moment. His cheeks were flushed and heated and that certain look on your face whenever you glance up to him for validation could easily snap his sanity into two.
Perhaps it was because he had never expected this side of you. The contrast between your regular self and the you right now was massive, and that certainly had a different appeal in and of itself. The image of you sucking him off, mouth full of his dick will definitely be etched into his mind forever. Whether or not this will happen again, who knows? But he definitely landed on a jackpot once again.
You admit this wild and bothered look on him was something you loved, partly because of how carelessly handsome he is, partly because this was your own doing. You made him become like this, and perhaps you could get him to give you more. Finally gathering the courage, you took him to the hilt, filling your mouth and throat; surprising him with the sensation.
“S-shit…! Y/N!”
Choking out a cry, Aventurine pushed you away and scooped you up over his shoulder. Something definitely snapped in him, you recalled thinking as he tossed you ungracefully to the nearby bed and pinning you on the spot between his legs.
“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a menace?” He chuckled darkly, brushing his messy blond hair with his fingers. “You see, I don’t want to come in your mouth first thing tonight. Rather, I’d like to make a mess here…”
Spreading your legs wide, Aventurine pressed a finger on your wet and sensitive clit, making you cling to the sheets instantly. He easily turned you into a screaming, sobbing mess with his fingers rubbing your drenched folds.
“A-aven…mmnh!! W-wait…ah—!”
The blond didn’t allow for any rest as he smoothly inserted two fingers inside, rubbing your gummy walls until you had trouble spreading your legs. You had no time to think, no time to ruminate on what was happening to you. Aventurine was relentless in his assault, sending waves upon waves of pleasure from your lower part towards the rest of your body. You could hardly keep your eyes open at how intense his fingers were, both attacking your pleasure point and your clit.
It feels good…! It feels so fucking good…
Aventurine chuckled; his eyes almost glowing. “So pretty…my pretty little slut. Are you going to come? Here, let me help you.”
Without stopping his fingers, he leaned forward and started circling his hot tongue around your nipple. He nipped and bit at your soft and supple flesh yet he refused to give you any respite.
“N-no…no…it’s too much! I’m going to…!”
Knowing you were close, he suddenly bit your nipple and pushed his against your g-spot at the same time. Of course, you shuddered and screamed his name as you fell down the peak of your climax. He could only grin at your messy and enthused form, with your thighs drenched with your own juices, your lips stained with drool and tears and your skin littered by marks of his own creation. However, that wasn’t enough. Not enough at all.
“Who would’ve thought this was your first time?” he remarked, fishing out a condom from his pants.
“W-wait…!” you manage in between breaths. “You…don’t have to…I-I came prepared…”
Arching a brow at you, the blond was greatly amused at how far you’d take all of this. “So you really came for the whole experience, huh? My princess is rather diligent.”
Placing himself between your legs, Aventurine began to rub his hard cock on your folds, lathering his shaft with your own juices. On the occasion of his tip brushing against your clit, you would beg and sob for him—unsure if you want to continue, but missing his presence when he decides to pull away.
“A-Aventurine….wait! I just came…nghh!! P-please…!”
“Isn’t this what you asked for, princess?” he taunted, threatening to enter you but suddenly slipping away. “I’m going to fuck you now, are you ready?”
It was the million dollar question; the whole point of tonight. Everything about this encounter was out of desperation and there was definitely no turning back, yet in the end, does it even matter?
Without hesitation, you nodded your head, and repeated your words. “Just help me forget…”
Aventurine scoffed. “Don’t worry. You won’t be able to think of anything but me.”
Not waiting for a reply, Aventurine slowly inserted his cock in you, careful not to be too harsh. You anticipated the pressure, yet you seemed to have grossly underestimated how full you’ll feel as he gently pushed in and out. It was totally different and definitely overwhelming. If he hadn’t made you come twice, you’d probably be crying out in pain now. Leaning over, the blond attempted to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling by assaulting your neck and chest, leaving more love bites in his wake. Finally, with much effort, Aventurine was now fully inside you, yet he still waited for you to get accustomed to his size before doing anything.
“How does it feel?” he asked in a low voice as he bit and licked the underside of your ear.
“Hnnghh….I feel so full,” you managed to reply even though you were breathless. “You’re so big, Aventurine…”
“Here, hold me,” he offered as he directed your arms to circle around his neck. “Just relax.”
You never imagined Aventurine to have this side of him. Even though you could tell he was trying to resist the urge to move, he was being gentle and patient with you. It was as if he was concerned you’d be in pain rather than chasing his own high. It might’ve moved your frigid heart for a moment.
“I…I think I’m fine now…” you finally told him as the discomfort toned down. “Please make me feel good…”
“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckled, nuzzling on your neck as he steadily picked up his pace.
Thank the Aeons you finally allowed him to move. He was almost at his wits’ end, as he struggled to keep himself calm while wrapped around by your warm and tight walls. Even as he gently rocked back and forth inside you, the only thing keeping himself from coming was how he distracted himself with pleasuring you. Amusingly, he also wondered why he was acting like this was his first time.
“Oh god…there! A-ahh! Harder please!” you screamed beside his ear, your hands brushing through his hair at the nape.
“You dirty girl…” he grumbled, thrusting sharply into you. Noticing how you both had finally settled on a rhythm, Aventurine decided to switch positions—now leaning back and holding your hips as he rammed ruthlessly into you.
You immediately saw stars every time his cock pushed against the sensitive spot inside of you, arching your back at the intensity of the pleasure. This was different, so different from the other kinds of pleasures he had shown you tonight. This was primal, this was true and actual mating. You could feel him thrust against the entrance of your womb, intent to fill you up with his cum.
“F-fuck…” he whispered, sensing the closeness of his climax. He could only endure so much, but of course, if he’s going down, you’re going down with him too.
With his thumb, Aventurine began to stimulate your sensitive nub again, rubbing and flicking it, and enjoying your wild screams. The room was filled with your filthy noises—your sobs and cries, his cursing and growls and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It was dirty and obscene, and something you’d remember forever.
“N-No! I’m…coming…a-ahh! Aven…I’m…!”
“Y-yes, come with me, princess. I’ll fill you up with my cum…”
You could feel his movements become erratic, an indication that he was close. You, on the other hand, was no different. Your head was filled with electrifying shocks of pleasure as he drove into you over and over again. You could feel yourself teetering close to your climax, as you begged him to fill you up over and over again.
Finally, in one sharp thrust, both you and Aventurine came. You shook, shivered and screamed as you felt his warmth fill you inside; tightening around him as you continued to ride out your orgasm. Meanwhile, he toppled above you, kissing your face over and over as if in a delirium. He then continued down your jaw, worshipping everywhere his lips could land on except on yours.
“Fuck…” he growled, pushing his still hard cock in you. “Can we do it again?”
It wasn’t everyday that he was this insatiable. He couldn’t understand why but something about you drove him feral, as if he had to breed you several times to feel satisfied. He couldn’t understand where this possiveness came from, but he wanted you so much that it ails him not to hold you.
“W-wait…!” you rasped, arching your back as he once again descended on one of your breasts. “I just c-came…please…”
Aventurine sat back up, watching you as you tried to regain your breath. He could feel his cum inside you, almost dripping out of you, and the thought seemed to entice him to keep you pressed against him.
Lifting you up without pulling out, he turned you around. You landed on all fours as he unrelentingly continued to leave marks from your neck down to your back. You could feel his tongue tracing your spine as he descended down, while his cock continued to go in and out of you.
“A-Aven…turine…! A-ah fuck…!” you cried out, unable to do anything but enjoy what he has to give you.
You honestly felt like you couldn’t come anymore yet the mixture of pain and pleasure was so enthralling that you had to continue. You wanted to be driven up to deliriousness and insanity further, you wanted to know up to what limits he could take you.
Unlike the first time, this round was the purest form of fucking. The both of you were trapped in a haze of lust, unable to stop yourselves from yearning for each other. He was rough and feral, as if he had only one last chance to do whatever he wanted with you, and you allowed it. After all, this was the kind of sex you were asking for—a sex so mind-numbing you stopped thinking altogether. All that mattered was the chase for pleasure and the final thunderous climax.
“Oh Aeons…you feel so good, princess. I don’t want to stop…” he growled as he seized both your wrists and thrusted from the back, roughly going in and out of your hole until his cum began dripping out.
“Please…harder!” you begged, “Fuck me harder…Aventurine…!”
He chuckled in between low grunts. “What a dirty little princess…I’ll make sure you’ll never forget tonight…”
Right when you were so close, Aventurine pulled you to his lap facing him, his cock sinking into you and reaching even deeper places than before. His grip on your hips were bruising as he jerked into you sharply. His mouth was once again on your pulse point, and snaking towards the crook of your neck and then your jaw—if he can’t have your lips, might as well have everything else.
“A-Aventurine…!”
As you moaned out his name, he glanced at you and watched as your face contorted in pleasure, memorizing how you looked in case he will never have the chance again. At that moment, both your lust-laden eyes met and locked both you in place, capturing you in an inescapable spell. Even as he continued to bounce you on top of him, your gazes never wavered.
“Oh Aeons…I want to kiss you so badly…” he growled, eyes half-lidded and lips just a hair’s away from yours.
“Then kiss me…I want you to kiss me…p-please…” you pleaded in desperation.
Yet he only smiled at you somberly.
He wanted this to be real. He wanted to see you, to spend time with you again, not only just for tonight. Yet at the same time, Aventurine knew that if he gave you everything, you’d really have nothing else left to hold you back. He knew why you came to him tonight, why you wanted him to take your first time. He could see it in your eyes—the despair and the hopelessness, and how you didn’t care anymore. But he does, against his better judgement. He does, because he sees that same hopelessness reflected in his own eyes. So even if he wanted to taste those sweet lips now, he'd hold off.
“Focus, princess,” he ordered, thrusting into your g-spot to numb your head.
To distract you, he pinched your clit and relentlessly pounded into you. He knew that was any easy ticket to your orgasm, though he was not spared. Your walls would tighten like a vice around him whenever you were close, and he himself couldn’t hold off that long.
With all his ministrations going on at the same time, you could no longer think about anything except your pleasure and how you were so close. But in one stroke against your sensitive spot, Aventurine had you coming down from your high in a disastrous tumble, with you shaking on his laps as you squirted on him. He followed soon after, unable to deny himself any longer. Ropes of cum filled you once again, savoring a feeling of warmth in your womb as you teetered at the edge of consciousness. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of his lips on your forehead, bidding you good night and promising to clean up after you.
By the time you woke up, you could see slits of light peeking from the heavy curtains. You were definitely clean as promised, but now you were alone. Of course you were. It was a transaction after all.
Cursing at how sore you felt, you spotted a note on the nightstand as you moved to stand up. You could only chuckle after reading.
Ask me to kiss you if we meet again. -A
P.S. I’ll treat you to dinner if you do.
#honkai star rail#hsr aventurine#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail
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Idk if it's too late to get a request in, but I'd love to see a Light Entertainment piece for requestober (Magnus/RGB's ship from TPoH). Or, alternately, TOby just Being Himself because he's just a cute little grump and I enjoy it greatly.
Day 9 - Clink clink ♥
#My art#Requestober#The Property of Hate#Light Entertainment#Magnus#RGB#Not too late! Reminder that you can request up to the end of the month or until all the slots are filled up! :D#This was fun ♪ I mean all of them have been but I'm just gonna keep saying it as long as it keeps being fun! Lol#It's been a while since I've drawn Magnus - I think I only doodled him half a handful of times several years ago haha#I know it's all to do with the lighting in the Night Market but the little pops of colour in their outfits are so pretty#One of my favourite RGB outfits ♪#And they've both got little rainbows in their own ways ahhh it's so cute#It's always nice to RGeeB's being happy as well haha even if it is complicated with his partners#Heartbreaker!#Magnus has to lean down a good bit but at least with chibis they're kind of similar heights haha#Cute lads
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make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)
જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?
જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)
જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make
you mine.’
do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.
and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.
and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.
the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.
it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.
it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.
like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.
you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.
before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.
im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.
‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.
‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘
‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.
‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.
‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.
‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’
‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘
“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.
“i guess so-“
“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.
“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”
my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.
and with that, something ticks inside me.
i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?
why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.
well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.
i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.
‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.
his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”
“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.
our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.
my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”
his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.
“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.
i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.
hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.
my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.
i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.
“but we’re in here with so many people-“
“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.
the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.
after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.
i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.
sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.
i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.
20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.
i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.
his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.
“that’s not how this works around here.”
“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?
he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”
“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.
“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”
i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.
“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”
i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word
“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”
his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.
his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.
he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.
he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.
“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.
i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.
my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.
he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”
i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.
he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”
i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.
the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.
“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.
this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.
he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.
i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.
my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.
“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.
i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.
“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.
he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.
a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.
“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.
“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”
“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.
“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.
my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.
he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.
“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.
“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”
“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.
“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.
“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”
the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.
“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.
“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.
as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.
i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.
he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.
“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.
he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”
“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.
“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.
his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.
“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.
“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.
“you want me here?”
“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”
“you want me to move?”
“please.”
“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.
the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.
“oh my fucking god! matt-“
he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.
my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.
“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”
he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.
he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”
and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.
he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.
“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.
“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”
i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.
i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.
he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.
i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.
i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.
“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.
“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.
“i’m gonna cum-“
“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.
“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?
“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.
our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.
matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.
“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.
“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”
i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?
“so-“
“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.
i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”
hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)
tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked
#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo fan fiction#sub matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo imagine#mattsturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagines#christopher sturniolo#chri
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…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?
Content:
Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader
Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.
Maybe you watched too many movies.
Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.
Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.
In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.
Things like,
Still young, I want to explore…
How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?
Last bit of freedom before being tied down…
If you love me and our relationship…
You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.
An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.
You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.
You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.
Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.
It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.
Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.
The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.
“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”
You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.
The perfect place to be out but alone.
You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.
“Love that one.”
You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.
“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”
You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”
He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”
He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…
“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.
He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”
Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.
You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.
You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.
You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.
He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.
Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.
“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”
You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.
“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.
Kyle frowns. “What about you?”
You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.
“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”
Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.
“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”
You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.
“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”
His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.
#thoughts™️#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#misters steal your girl#poly 141#open relationship trope#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz x reader
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hidden lights | rayne ames
— synopsis. reading rayne ames is impossible. that's why you don't get why he offers to take you out on a date after you've been stood up again.
— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader
— genres. modern au, you and rayne are roommates, fluff, you’re so oblivious it hurts, rayne's most likely ooc towards the end but we do it for plot,
— warnings. one kys thrown in at the end but it’s not in a serious manner
— word count. 3.2k
— notes. in honor of triple liner rayne being animated. i have quite literally been waiting to see it animated for years. also hi.
you can never tell what rayne ames is thinking. he wears the same cold, uninterested glare on his face at all times of the day. he never speaks unless spoken to, never lets you know when he leaves the apartment, never does anything to show that he actually has emotions.
you're asked on the daily how you survive rooming with him, and in all honesty, it's really not that bad. he does his half of the chores, and he doesn't leave his shit all over the apartment. really, the guy's only problem is his lack of emotion. it drives you up the wall.
finn says not to take it to personally during the one day he visited his brother. apparently, he's like that with everyone, but he's still a good guy. it just takes time.
you would like to believe that, but rayne makes that extremely difficult to believe when he looks like he wants to kill every person who so happens to exist in his direction.
so naturally, seeing him so angered after finding out that you've been stood up is surprising. it's an even bigger shock when he offers to take you out on a date instead.
you don't know what compels you to agree. even if you hadn't accepted his offer, something tells you that rayne would've found a way to get you to leave with him so there's no use in trying to deny him in this matter.
that's why you allow him to drive all the way to marchétte street, where a night market is being held in full swing. the road has all sorts of stalls lined up one after the other, ranging from foods to clothes. but because the marchétte night market is ridiculously popular, the place is packed to the brim with people.
rayne offers his hand once he notices that you're daunted by the crowds. you stare at him with surprise. when you don't make a move to accept this action, rayne huffs before grabbing your hand. he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you into marchétte street's traffic.
the first thing you note is that rayne's hands are surprisingly warm and soft. for someone so incapable of talking, his touch is strangely reassuring.
he drags you to a vendor selling takoyaki. and even as he orders, rayne doesn’t let go of your hand.
“what do you want?” he says into your ear so that he doesn’t have to yell over all the noise. the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin sends shivers down your spin. it's maddening.
“oh. uh-” your eyes quickly scan over the menu, and you blurt out the first item that you read. out of habit you reach for your wallet, but rayne is quick to shut you down.
“absolutely not.” he grumbles, letting your hand drop to your side so he can pull out his cash. rayne hands the amount to the girl at the register, and she hands back his change that he drops into the tip jar.
“thanks.” you say quietly, still so flustered about the entire situation.
rayne only studies you before humming in acknowledgement. “come on.” he guides his hand to your upper back, moving you out the way so you can wait on the side for your orders.
it’s during this time you really look at rayne as if that would provide you with the answers you need to understand him. you try to wrap your head around it. you draft up every possible explanation, but none of them seem to make sense.
unless… it couldn’t be… does rayne like you? you shake your head, dismissing the thought as soon as it crosses your mind. no, that’s absurd, the furthest thing from logical. this is rayne ames we’re talking about. in the five months that you’ve been living together, you two have never had a solid conversation. how could he ever like someone he’s barely talked to?
you're about to confront rayne about his intentions until your number order is called, and all the courage you built up crumbles away as rayne leaves you to go pick up your takoyaki.
still, whatever his reasons for doing this may be, this is a rare opportunity to come by, and that means that maybe rayne doesn't have to continue being a stranger. maybe you can get under those layers and find that good guy finn said was there.
"i never knew marchétte had a night market." you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk side by side through the market.
"i didn't either." rayne admits, poking his fork into one of the octopus balls, and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.
"what?" your face scrunches in disbelief. "then how'd you find out?"
"i asked finn as we were going down to the garage." your date shares nonchalantly.
you turn to look at rayne with the intent of questioning him further, but the sight of his cheeks bulging with food makes you burst out in a fit of giggles.
"what?" rayne asks, narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip to contain your laughter. your gaze falls on a mixture of crumbs and sauce that sits on the corner of his mouth, only causing you to smile wider.
"you got a little something there." you gesture at his lips. rayne fumbles for a moment, swiping his fingers around various sections of his mouth, somehow only cleaning half of the mess up.
you shake your head, still grinning up at him. he tenses when your thumb grazes the edges of his lips. you can feel his eyes staring deep into you, and you have to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.
"all done." you whisper, wiping the remainders on the napkin in your hand.
rayne doesn't say anything regarding what occurred, only urging you to follow him further down marchétte street.
you swear that you see the tips of his ears go red, and something about that makes you all fuzzy inside.
as the night progresses, you and rayne abide your time by visiting stalls. well, it's more like you choose which ones interest you the most, and rayne follows behind. you comment on certain items that look nice; sometimes, you ask for your roommate's opinions to decide on whether something will be worth your money or not. to your surprise, rayne's advice is solid, and you end up listening to him.
at some point, you convinced him to buy a pair of absurdly looking mugs for the apartment. he fought you hard on it, saying that a mug shaped like a fish is extremely inconvenient, but in the end, you won with insistent begging.
when the two of you both got bored of the market, you decide to take rayne to one of your favorite spots in the city.
"the park? really?" rayne gives you a dead stare.
"hey, don't judge." you pout. "i love this place."
"why? no offense, but i don't think parks are all that special."
"i feel like i can take a step back here and just a catch a break from everything," you answer honestly. "sometimes, i sit down and watch people as they live their lives, and something about that is strangely comforting. it makes me want to keep going."
rayne doesn't follow up on your words, but you can tell that he's really considering them, and that brings a smile onto your face.
"plus, i feel like it's a good place for when you want to talk to someone." you grab onto your roommate's wrist. "come on let's go to the swings."
you practically drag rayne to the playground, which is completely deserted, but that's to be expected when it's already 10p.m. no parent would be dumb enough to bring their kid out this late.
you force rayne onto the the swing next to you, and all he does is sit there, unwilling to indulge himself in such a simple joy. annoyed with him, you hop off your own set, coming behind him.
"what are you doing?" rayne whips his head around as your hands plant themselves firmly on his back.
"oh live a little." you huff, mustering up enough strength to push him. the swing rocks forwards and comes back. even as rayne complains and threatens you, you continue to push him, watching as he goes higher and higher. he may be masking it, but you can tell that he's enjoying it.
you finally give up when your arms grow sore and a layer of sweat coats your face. slumping back into the swing beside rayne, you breathe heavily. "man, that was a workout."
"i told you to stop." your date reminds you, shooting you a look.
"you can be honest, rayne. i know you liked it."
"i did not."
"yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." you wave him off, laughing.
for a minute, neither of you say anything. you're the one who said that the park is a place where you can talk openly with someone, yet there's not a single topic that you can think to bring up.
luckily, rayne swoops in to save it. "can i ask you something?" your half-blonde roommate asks, something more serious laced in his voice. it makes you swallow a lump in your throat. an anxious feeling creeps into your body.
"of course you can."
"why did you bother giving that guy a chance?"
it's easy to know exactly who he's referring to. you shrug. "he's nice and has good energy."
"but he had stood you up two times in the past though. clearly he isn't as nice as you make him out to be. you seriously can't be that dumb to have fallen for it three times."
that statement in itself should get you mad (even though he would be right), but there's something peculiar in what he said that had you ignoring the jab altogether. "how'd you know he stood me up twice before? i never told you that."
at that, rayne freezes, eyes blowing wide open. it's so obvious that he's trying to find an excuse right now, but you push further.
"who told you that, rayne?" you lean closer, watching as his ears turn beet red. you're not even angry with him. it's mostly curiosity making you push him. not to mention that seeing him in a flustered state is entertaining and quite cute.
"max did." your roommate finally admits albeit quietly.
you pull your head back. "max? as in max land? how the hell does he know?"
"your dates happened to be at the restaurant he works at."
"why would he bother telling you that though?" you wonder. "up until tonight, i don't think it concerned you."
"it did though." the half-blonde mumbles, thinking you wouldn't hear, but you do anyway.
"what?" you press.
"forget it." rayne shakes his head, growing irritated.
"no. fuck that.." you seethe, annoyed at his unwillingness to be honest with you. rayne bites his tongue to hold back. you see it. "don't act like this. just tell me, or i swear to god i'll text max right now-"
"it's because i knew that i could treat you better." the words rush out of rayne's mouth as he snaps his head toward you. the fire in his eyes die as he locks his gaze onto you. the harsh emotion written across his features softens. you can feel your own exasperation slipping away like that of a retreating ocean tide. he grimaces in regret, knowing that he didn't mean to let that slip out, but he did anyway. it's out in the open, and now you knew.
surely, you're hearing things wrong. perhaps you're misunderstanding what he just said. how could that be misinterpreted though? it's such a painfully straightforward statement, yet it still doesn't make any sense.
rayne sighs. it's like he can already hear your thoughts and your confusion. the least he can do is clear the air and dump everything onto you while he can. "i didn't expect to feel like this," he begins to explain. "when i moved in, i just assumed you'd be another person i wouldn't pay attention to. i'm sure you know how i am. i don't bother getting to know people, but a lot of people feel the need to force themselves into my life, and shit like that pisses me off. but you didn't do that. you introduced yourself, explained the ground rules of the apartment, and then left me alone."
"so... you like the fact that i leave you alone?" you tilt your head.
"shut up. let me finish."
"okay."
"but yeah, that's part of it. you keep your distance, but you still try to show that you care. you don't do anything groundbreaking. it's just that the small things you do for me got to me. it may sound dumb to you, but it meant a lot to me."
suddenly, you're hit like a train because you know exactly what rayne means. you recall all the times you ensured that there was dinner for him, the times you moved his laundry into the dryer when he forgot to do it himself, and the times you restocked his favorite snacks when they ran out. you hadn't realized that you did any of that. it just came naturally, no hidden meaning behind it.
"oh." you breathe out, blinking.
rayne nods, continuing. you're honestly floored over the fact that he still has more to say. "you don't notice it. at least, i don't think you do, but at some point, i tried doing the same for you. i started paying more attention to you and what you liked and how you liked things done. i did it mostly to pay back your kindness, but over time i continued just 'cause i liked seeing your smile."
you have to process that for a minute, piecing together how certain events lined up until it finally clicks into place. "s-so the island vase-"
"i replace the flowers because you like them fresh."
"the key holder?"
"you always forgot to bring your keys until i installed it."
"when you put on movies-"
"i check your letterboxd and hope that you'll sit and watch them with me."
"when i put on movies-"
"i sit with you because i want to be near you."
your jaw falls open. never in a million years could you have expected this. you thought that rayne could care less about your existence, but the reality was that that was far from the truth. cold, aloof rayne was always doing things for you. all this time, you've been so oblivious.
still, there's more to the story so you stay quiet, letting him get his feelings off of his chest. "to be honest, i was never going to say anything. max tried convincing me to confess on multiple occasions, but i was dead set on letting it pass. i didn't think you liked me in the same way anyway.
"but then you came home today and you told me about your date and i just got so... angry," rayne clenches his fist around the chains of the swing. the whole situation infuriates him every time he thinks about it. "it just wasn't fair. you spent so much time into looking your best just for that asshole to go and waste your effort. you're so beautiful, so kind and understanding, and i fucking hate the fact that he's been taking advantage of that.
"i really wasn't thinking clear when i proposed this date to you, but god after tonight, i'd do it all over again. i wanted you to know what it's like to be with someone who does care about you. i wanted to see you smile. i wanted to hear stories. i want you so badly it's all i can think about sometimes.
"i know this is a lot, and i'm freaking you out right now. i'm sorry but you-"
"rayne." you interrupt with a big smile on your face. he was unaware to the fact that you had got up.
"for fucks sake, can you let me finish? this is already weird enough for me to talk about as is." he rolls his eyes, narrowing his gaze at you, blush splashed across his cheeks. still, without any resistance, you pull him up from his swing by his wrists.
"then don't." you whisper as you pull him in.
and the moment you crash your lips onto rayne's, the world stops. he instantly melts into you, the palms of his hands finding the soft skin on your cheeks. your hands tangle themselves into his hair. his lips are incredibly soft. a faint taste of matcha and sugar syrup dances on his tongue from the boba he drank earlier. a noise of approval vibrates down his throat, and you can't help but smile against his lips.
rayne wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. you get what he was talking about earlier. this kiss is all it takes to prove it to you. you feel his affection and desire all at once. every single bone in your body is so aware of how much rayne ames cares about you.
when you finally pull away for air, it's like a smile is permanently tugged onto your lips. rayne trains his eyes onto you, engraining every detail of this moment into his head.
a comfortable silence falls as each of you take your time to catch your breaths. your stare finds its way up, admiring the night sky. there are barely any stars out tonight. no, that part isn't remotely true, not fully anyway, because light pollution drowns out stars and their lights. the reality is that there are billions of stars hanging high out of reach; they just go unseen.
rayne is kinda like that you realize. finn was right. his brother is a good guy. there's a hidden light within him behind all those aloof layers of his. you just have to squint and maybe put on some prescription glasses is order to see it. it's a shame it took you five months to to really acknowledge it. but now that you've finally found a glimpse of it, you'll continue to clear past the fog. you want to know every part of rayne and see his light just as he did with you. you want him to be able to shine at his full brightness with no fear. you'll take rayne ames for all that he is.
"come on," you coo, a lovestruck look in your eyes as you slip your hand into rayne's. "let's go home."
bonus:
rayne: finn, give me a date spot quick
finn: are you actually going on a date?
rayne: stop asking questions
finn: there's a night market on marchétte street.
finn: are you seriously going on a date though?
finn: hello?
finn: rayne.
finn: stop leaving me on read.
finn: is it (y/n)?
finn: it is her, huh?
finn: asshole.
delisaster: hey sorry
delisaster: can we reschedule for next saturday?
y/n: kys
y/n: lol sorry that was my bf
delisaster: bruh what?
delisaster: did you have a bf this whole time?
*this message could not be sent*
delisaster: did you fucking block me?
*this message could not be sent*
#anime#manga#mashle#mashle magic and muscles#mashle x reader#rayne ames#rayne x reader#rayne ames x reader#from kor ; ♆
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Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]
Title: Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]
Synopsis: You've made a lot of mistakes in Hell, but this one has to be the worst.
Birthday fic for @absolute-flaming-trash who is absolutely awesome!
word count: 1899ish
notes: yandere, abuse, obsessive behavior, humiliation, I'm joining the 'alastor yanks reader by a chain' club
Hell was full of mistakes, and you figured that yours amounted to a sizable chunk--particularly since meeting Alastor. Of the countless mistakes within that particular bucket, there were at least seven distinct mistakes that led you to this very moment.
One. It was a mistake to thank Alastor for holding the door open for you, the day you entered some run-down market in search of a book. Your voice had been surprised and sweet and ever-so-thankful.
Two. It was a mistake to let him strike up a conversation with you a few minutes later, and not pay attention to the horrified looks that even the most hardened patrons in the shop gave you.
Three. It was a mistake, later on, to think he was your friend; to believe that the shared meals, the late night discussions about music and books and little topics you’d forgotten you enjoyed, were a sign of pleasant companionship.
Four. It was a mistake to sell your soul to Alastor, after his honeyed offers of protection from the seedier elements of Hell, his casual assurance that your friendship would go unaltered.
Five. It was a mistake to move into the Hotel when Alastor asked, and not think there was some ulterior motive behind it all.
Six. It was a mistake to think Alastor was actually kind, just because he was helping Charlie with her hotel, and seemingly protected those within it.
Seven. It was a mistake to, on this day, ask Alastor if he would give your soul back, now that you’d decided to aim for heaven. Because you were friends, and he cared about you, and therefore, he should want what’s best for you--which is to get (you pardon yourself the phrase) the hell out of Hell.
Every one of these seven mistakes--the last, you must admit, being the most significant--led you to here.
To you, trembling on the floor, the tangy copper of blood in your mouth from where your teeth rattled against the end of your tongue when Alastor’s palpable anger made your knees literally buckle.
“I… I don’t understand,” you spit out, voice trembling as much as your body. “I thought--I thought you…” The words don’t need to be spoken for Alastor to know them.
I thought you liked me, I thought you were my friend, I thought you would be happy to do it.
“You thought what, exactly, my dear?”
A low electric current buzzed in the air, making the lights flicker once, twice, and again before he continued.
“That I would simply let you go?” He laughed, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. It was full of mockery and something else, something metal and cold.
Your stomach squirmed awfully. It was not a feeling you’d ever experienced around Alastor, despite some other’s trepidation around him. He’d never given you a reason to feel that way.
Until today.
Until you asked Alastor to let your soul go, and the room seemed to fizz with electrical interference that left the lights sparking and
Your eyes went wide. And your brain, stupid thing that it was, pieced things together that you had been all too naively eager to ignore until now.
The stories of Alastor’s past that you’d heard in snatches and dismissed as jealous fantasy, probably all deriving from Vox and his ilk. The way people who knew Alastor from before his sabbatical tended to steer as clear of him as possible.
Or how Alastor always insisted you try the things he liked--clothes he left in your room (even before you told him where you lived, before the Hotel); music he insisted you’d admire more than your current collection of alt-rock CDs; foods that were tastier, he said, than your favorites.
“I didn’t think--” The words stuck to your mouth until you forced them out. “I didn’t think you’d be mad that I wanted to get better, repent and--and get out of here.”
Alastor, despite his smile, did not look impressed.
You didn’t have time to flinch as he swung his microphone down and out, pressing it against your throat.
“Don’t act surprised now. After all,” The microphone dug into the flesh of your neck, lifting your chin until you were looking at him through blurs of oncoming tears. He continued, voice softer, missing most of its usual radio sound. “You made me like this.”
You wanted to shake your head, but the microphone kept you only capable of looking up and straight at him. His smile made you sick.
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice light, but not quite naive anymore; you didn’t fully believe the words now, and your voice wavered.
Even if you didn’t mean to do anything to draw the attention of the radio demon, that didn’t mean Alastor wasn’t clearly--wasn’t clearly… affected by you. In some way that you didn’t understand; moreover, you didn’t want to understand it.
What you thought had been a surprising friendship made in the bowels of hell was something else entirely, and you hated the newfound knowledge.
Whatever it was that Alastor actually felt for you, it was dark and awful, like sprinkles of mold you find underneath the bathroom sink. Damp and rotting and unwanted.
“You,” he said, pressing the microphone harder into your throat for emphasis, “have been quite the busy bee when it comes to me, my dear.” He sighed in a way you’d heard him do a hundred times before. But now it feels wrong; sticky, oozing. “I’d never given much thought to… certain endeavors before you. And now I find myself distracted.”
His neck turned again, cracking, and a song began to play from somewhere.
“Distracted?” You asked, feeling sicker and sicker.
“Oh, yes,” he answered, dragging out the word. “Quite unlike me, if I must admit it. And yet there’s something about you that’s been making me…”
He didn’t finish. The song got louder, mingling in with the ambience of the room. It was almost soft and wistful, except for the lyrics that made your skin feel cold, repeating on a loop.
And you’re mine… mine… mine…
“And you thought…” His voice continued, each word punctuated by an awful radio crackle that made goosebumps blossom up your arms. “That you would get to simply leave me after all I’ve put into you?”
All he’s put into you.
The dresses, the food, the guidance on what to listen to and how to dance; who to talk to and who to avoid. Advice from a friend, you thought. Advice from someone stronger and maybe smarter.
“Well,” he said, almost cheery now, pulling the microphone away from your sore and probably bruising throat. “I trust you’ve learned your lesson and we can avoid this…” A crackle, short and low. “Unpleasantness in the future.”
You should have said that yes, you learned your lesson; yes, you won’t ask again. But you didn’t. Instead you swallowed hard, feeling the ache from where his microphone pressed in, and added an eighth mistake to your list.
“We can avoid it if you release me from my contract--if you give me back my soul.”
“Well,” he repeated. And this time, his voice was muffled by a brief, shrieking radio frequency. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”
The reminder came with cold metal choking your throat; a vivid green chain led straight from your imprisoned neck to Alastor’s hand.
One trembling hand came up to feel the collar. It was real. It was there. And the chain, too, was solid and unbreakable.
It was a shocking sight.
You’d seen the chains of other owned souls before. Angel’s, in particular, when you’d accidentally witnessed an argument between him and Valentino. But there had never been a singular thought given to the fact that you, too, must have had chains. Alastor never showed them to you and until now, had never seen fit to remind you about your lack of freedom.
Until today.
Your surprise and fear made you stupid, and you tried to yank yourself away from him; he held fast to the chain and began to wind it around his hand, forcing you to look upwards, speaking all the while.
“You are never to ask me to release your contract again. And you are certainly never to even entertain the silly notion of leaving me, now or in the future. Do you understand?”
An awful, slimy feeling overtook your gut. He owned you, and he had owned you for some time. You just had been closing your eyes to that reality.
A reality that was now choking you.
“Well?”
You nodded. You didn’t think you could speak, not now. Not to him.
But it wasn’t good enough. He yanked on the chain, choking you.
“I don’t believe I heard you, dear.”
“Yes.” The word was spoken through gritted teeth. It tasted like tears.
“Yes what?” The grin on his smile widened deceptively as he yanked against the chain, jerking your head upward. It hurt inside and out.
It was so unfair, that your heart could hurt like this, even after you were dead.
“Yes, sir.”
That should have been the end of it. He should have let go of the chain and let you slink off in fear and shame, off to sob in your bedroom over the sudden turn of events.
Instead, he leaned down, and for a moment, his eyes glowed in a painful flash.
“You can do better than that, my dear, can’t you, to the person that owns your very soul?”
His hand wrapped around the chain, shortening it even further as he leaned in so close you could smell the rot around him. But it didn’t matter that you wanted to pull away from it, because he held you--literally, held the chains that kept you bound to him. Forever.
Yes, he owned your soul. He owned you.
“Yes, boss?” you murmured, copying what Husker sometimes said; you were unable to look at him anymore as humiliated, hot tears spilled down your cheeks.
In an instant, the chain was gone, and you fell to the ground with a clumsy thud. Your chin hit the hard floor before you could brace yourself with your hands.
“Wonderful,” he said, praising, almost cooing. His neck cracked to the side and you imagined his bones shifting in impossible ways to achieve it. “I suppose I should remind you who you belong to when you get out of sorts like this, my dear.” His smile widened. “A healthy reminder now and then is good for the soul!”
He laughed. Whether he thought it was a joke or not was unclear.
“Although, I hope I won’t have to remind you too soon. I do so enjoy your company more when you’re not being…” He waved his hand in the air, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “Stubborn.” His eyes darted to you, accompanied by the faint sound of a radio hum. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation, unable to stop shaking from your position on the floor.
“Good girl,” he said, patting the air above your head. You watched his footsteps until he paused at the threshold of the door. You heard his neck snap as he turned it back around--you didn’t dare look up to see.
“Don’t forget to tidy up before dinner. I’ve left a dress in your bedroom that I’m sure will look lovely on you.”
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Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko
AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.
SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1
Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)
KIDDIE FREE ZONE
Good Friends
That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.
But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.
As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."
The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-
His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.
Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.
Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.
Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.
The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.
It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.
#prince zuko#zuko#atla#zuko fanfic#zuko x reader#atla fanfic#avatar zuko#grumpy x sunshine#fluff#smut#imagine zuko#imagine#x reader
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in an au where there's no kira and lawlight really do just meet in college light takes L home for dinner and is like ok we both know i have endless patience with what a weird freak you are due to how much of saint i am as we both know. but please try not to be too weird of a freak when you meet my parents. L's like yes okay whatever and then spends the entire dinner with his back really overexaggeratedly straight and making excessively normal small talk about american baseball and the stock market and light's family is bemusedly enchanted but light correctly interprets this as an act of passive aggression and a declaration of war and breaks up with him dramatically over dessert and then cries in his bedroom all night while light's parents are really confused why their nice son seems so angry with his perfectly polite and normal boyfriend who thanked them so sweetly for the ice cream. and soichiro walks L to the train station and bonds with him about law and then is like light i don't know why you behaved so shockingly at dinner tonight when ryuzaki (L uses a fake name for absolutely no reason at all in this au like just to be difficult) is such a nice young man and light punches his wall
#thus is the kind kf bullshit that nirmally goes on twittr hbt as you can see it is slughtly too long#hi ! ts been such a long day. km so tired everyone#rookposting#death note#lawlight#they get back together the following tuesday btw
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Can I request SAGAU with reader coming into Teyvat but being very hush hush about it and they get a job at Wangshu inn or something but one day they end up cutting themselves and boom golden blood? Sorry if this is too specific
Don’t apologize, I love this idea!
I have so many ideas for this one ranging from crack to angst hskakdk
Let’s say that all the documents about the creator have vague descriptions so they aren’t too sure about your appearance. The only key signs of being the creator are golden blood and crystal like tears.
I hope you like it! I think this may be my first request ^.^
—
Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Part 1
Your arrival to Teyvat is sudden. One second you had fallen asleep at your desk after a long night. The next second you lift your head and you’re in a completely new environment.
Surrounded by greens and vegetables you note you’re on some sort of farm. You warily get off the ground, dusting off the dirt from your clothes. You look around hoping to figure out where and how you had ended up in this unfamiliar place.
However, what catches your eyes in the dimly lit farm, is a little glowing blue figure floating wispily.
A seelie?
Your heart drops and your eyes squint through the dark taking in more of your surroundings. Your eyes finally land on a large statue in the distance.
Your thoughts are confirmed as you drop to your knees, eyes locked on a Geo Statue of the Seven.
You’ve read the stories, you know what happens.
“Hello? Who is out there?” a shaky voice calls out. You want to get up and run but the shock kept you in place.
An old man makes his way over, holding a lantern over you. The light illuminates your worry-stricken face. Thoughts run wild in your head as the old man helps you into his home.
Not wanting to risk being chased by all these powerful characters thinking you’re an imposter, while also afraid of being confined by obsessive acolytes, you think it’s best that your arrival to Teyvat is kept a secret.
The farmer that found you, a widowed man with no offspring, decides to take you in. To avoid feeling like a burden, you help out the old man in anyway you can, starting with farming. As if the land is trying to show their love for you, the vegetables you plant grow absurdly quick. They grow larger than the farmer had ever seen before. Vegetables farmed by your hand come out with the perfect texture and consistency. To the farmer, you’re like an angel descended from the skies.
It isn’t long before the old farmer’s business booms with the best vegetables in the market. However, he’s become too old and it’s become too difficult for him to transport all of these vegetables from his isolated little home to the shops down in Liyue Harbor.
You volunteer to do it for him. It’s the least you could do in return for him letting you stay rent free. Despite your willingness, you still can’t fight the anxiousness that comes with traveling in Teyvat.
The first time you enter Liyue Harbor, your hands are so sweaty you nearly drop the boxes of vegetables you are holding. Staying the whole day to sell vegetables in Liyue Harbor means that you are exposed. But when you finally came across your favorite characters, you realize you worried for nothing.
You first meet the Traveler and Paimon. The exchange is simple. They buy a few of your vegetables then leave to Wanmin restaurant to use the stove to cook some meals.
Then you meet Xiao. One day, a group of Hilichurl’s almost attack you while you are transporting goods to Liyue Harbor. He quickly wipes them out while you hide behind the cart you are pushing. Xiao simply looks at you for no more than 5 seconds before disappearing.
After that, the worry of your face being recognized begins to fade. If it weren’t for your oddly golden blood, you would have forgotten that you’re the creator.
You become accustomed to living life in Teyvat. It is peaceful. No exams or deadlines. Such simple tasks done day by day. You spend one day farming and the next transporting vegetables. You sit at your little shop selling items before heading home and helping out the old man. It’s not super easy but it’s a lot less stressful than your life before.
Everyday you get to bask in the sunlight and enjoy fresh air while you admire the scenery you had only ever seen through a screen. You are content and happy.
Until one day you accidentally make the smallest mistake.
Xiangling is a regular of yours. Your vegetables are by far the best she’s ever had and you quickly become her source of ingredients for her dishes. She speaks so highly of you that Zhongli, one of the characters you fear most, decides to drop by your little shop.
His presence is intimidating with his golden eyes peering down at you and his tall stature towering over your little stall.
Despite his slightly domineering presence, his voice is as smooth and soothing as you remember it to be and you’re able to calm down enough to treat him like any of your other customers. You’ve already met many characters and none of them were able to recognize you. How could he be any different?
Except he’s not like the others.
He’s nearly 6000 years old. He’s seen things others haven’t and most importantly, he’s worshipped the existence of the creator far longer than any of the Liyue Citizens have been alive.
From the very beginning, he sensed that there was something different about you. Something familiar and oddly inviting. The former Geo Archon thought he knew everyone residing in Liyue but it’s his first time coming across you.
His eyes can’t help but follow your every move as you wrap up his box of vegetables. You finally finish tying up his box with some sturdy rope and grab a knife to cut off the long ends. Just as you’re cutting the rope, your hand slips.
The sharp knife slices shallowly into your opposite hand. Zhongli is only barely able to catch a glimpse of gold before you drop to the floor.
It isn’t the pain that’s brought you to your knees but the fear. You crouch over your hands, covering the wound as best as you can hoping with all your being that he hasn’t seen anything.
Both you and Zhongli can feel your hearts beating faster than ever before.
“Are you alright?”
The former Geo Archon attempts to walk over to the other side of the stall, when he hears the Traveler call his name. His attention wavers and it gives you just enough time to wipe your blood away and stuff the handkerchief into your pocket.
Zhongli glances at you amidst his conversation just to see you finish covering your wound with a bandage. Any trace of blood is gone and the wound is completely covered.
He walks away from the Traveler to speak with you. The geo archon’s eyes never once leave your hand as he stands in front of you.
“Is your wound alright?”
You nod waving your hand a little.
“Just a small wound,” you say, hoping he’d accept your answer and move on.
But he isn’t satisfied.
“Are you sure? It look like it hurt. It’s important to put some cream on it so it doesn’t get infected.”
“Of course! I’m a lot stronger than you think.” You smile before repeating his total. The Traveler ends up paying for the vegetables and the two leave, but not without Zhongli glancing a few more times at you.
When his figure completely fades, your smile drops.
It seems you’ve stayed a bit too long in Liyue.
Shaky hands clumsily pack up your stall as you race to close up the shop early and quickly head home before the Geo Archon decides to return.
While you rush, you don’t notice the small white handkerchief falling out of your pocket nor do you realize that the small piece of cloth would be the sole cause of the upcoming chaos that erupts throughout the nations of Teyvat.
Next
#genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere#yandere sagau#sagau#self aware genshin#zhongli#morax#archons#traveler#yandere x reader#sagau x reader#yandere sagau x reader#raiden#childe#xiao#venti#scaramouche#yanderexreader#liyue#ayato#hu tao#genshin x reader#kazuha#diluc#alhaitham#genshin cult au#acolytes#creator#creator reader
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୨♡୧ SWEET NOTHINGS — aftercare with the hq boys.
featuring. miya osamu, suna rintaro, ushijima wakatoshi, sakusa kiyoomi
warnings. f!reader, no explicit smut (still, mdni), food (not used sexually), implied creampie, bathing together, tons of after-sex intimacy. all characters written 18+.
₊˚ପ⊹ MIYA OSAMU
osamu is a firm believer that the best thing one can do for their body after any strenuous activity, including sex, is to replenish it with food before allowing it to rest. he feeds you often but something feels different about doing the same thing only after sex. it makes for a much more intimate scene, he thinks, being able to share food with his lover after being so vulnerable with each other. it’s yet another way of showing his love for you.
• • •
“what’s on today’s menu?” you ask, sitting up as osamu returns from his quick venture to the kitchen. from behind his back, he reveals the carton of strawberries the two of you picked out from the market this morning. he gently shakes the container, “these sound good?”
you nod enthusiastically, waving him over to join you in bed. his feet carry him to the mattress and he plops down next to you with a comfortable sigh. you watch patiently as he pops open the plastic, fingers hovering above the fruit in search of the best of the batch. he picks the prettiest one he can find and holds the berry out to you, the palm of his other hand facing up beneath the first to serve as a sort of plate. “say ‘ah,’” he opens his mouth, hoping you’ll do the same.
a smile breaks out across your face before you follow his lead and open your mouth to take a bite. you hum as your cheeks tingle and the tartness of the fruit explodes on your tongue. osamu chuckles at your innocent reaction. it takes a moment before he becomes aware of the red-tinted juice dripping down his fingers. he pops them into his mouth before the trail of liquid can travel any farther, smiling around them as you happily bounce up and down on the bed.
₊˚ପ⊹ SUNA RINTARO
he’s never been one to take anything in life too seriously, but you’re one of the few exceptions to his carefree and jovial approach to living. sex with suna is rarely demanding but always passionate. even though he isn’t a particularly rough lover, rintaro acknowledges that you deserve some tending to after making love. in an attempt to keep the mood light, he keeps up his silly antics even while he’s taking care of you.
• • •
“nice game, mvp,” suna quips as he hands you the cold bottle of water he just grabbed from the fridge. a cheeky grin pulls at his lips upon seeing the way your eyebrows furrow while you take a swig of the beverage. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before sarcastically responding, “your lame charm never fails to make me swoon.”
“you love it,” he argues, taking a seat on the edge of bed the beside you. you turn to him to find a pair of dull yellow eyes already staring back at you. suna smiles before leaning forward to cup your cheek and slot his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and slow, a perfect culmination to an exhausting night. despite his inability to take most things seriously, moments like these are all you need to know that, deep down, suna really cares about you. he pulls away with another of his signature smiles, his thumb and index finger pinching your cheek. “ready to hit the showers?”
you scoff, playfully slapping his hand away. “i can’t believe i let you have sex with me.”
₊˚ପ⊹ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
his touch is gentle and tender; it drastically differs from how he was handling you only moments ago. even though the two versions of wakatoshi are stark contrasts of each other, you’re more than familiar with the soft side of him that emerges after the both of you are worn out and sticky with each other’s cum. words of praise accompany every calculated stroke of the damp, warm washcloth he uses to clean you up.
• • •
“i wasn’t too rough, was i?” ushijima asks as he makes his way back to where you lie, returning from grabbing a few things from the bathroom. he settles on the mattress beside you with a couple of damped towels. dark olive eyes fall on you and you shake your head to gesture that you’re fine.
he nods, taking one of the folded cloths to pat away the sweat from your forehead. nimble fingers brush away any stray strands of hair sticking to your face and you lean into the warmth of his touch. a small smile graces his lips upon seeing how content you are. as much as he’d love to spend the rest of the night with you in his arms, he has to finish getting you cleaned up.
reluctantly, wakatoshi pulls his hand away and reaches for another clean rag. he uses this one to carefully wipe any of the sticky release off of your thighs. you twitch at the contact, still sensitive from your previous activities. he’s told you many times before, but ushijima will never tire saying it. “you did so well, pretty girl.”
₊˚ପ⊹ SAKUSA KIYOOMI
the first thing he does as soon as you both finish is ask how you’re feeling; if you’re alright. as pleasurable as sex is, it can be just as fatiguing. no matter your answer, sakusa’s routine rarely strays; there’s always a warm bath with essential oils waiting for you on nights when the two of you end up naked and tangled in each other’s arms. his ultimate goal is to help you wind down and assure that you’re comfortable.
• • •
“feeling okay?” sakusa’s voice, albeit fairly quiet, startles you. the soft rumble you feel transfer from his chest to your back is somehow simultaneously surprising and comforting. it wasn’t difficult to begin to drift off in the tub filled with warm, bubbly water, the scent of lavender wafting throughout the steamy air.
you hum in satisfaction, letting your eyelids flutter closed once more. you won’t fall asleep this time. “better than okay.”
kiyoomi can hear the exhaustion lingering in your voice. he can feel you melting into it under the pads of his fingers as he massages the supple skin of your thighs. he finished washing you up a few minutes ago but you looked so tranquil that he couldn’t find it in him to move you. you’ll have to get out soon if you don’t want your skin to grow pruney, but sakusa decides to warrant you and himself a little longer in your peaceful bubble.
strong arms pull you closer into his chest, sending a ripple throughout the water. he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the pulse on your throat. you giggle, wet hand breaking the surface to cradle the side of his face. “perfect,” you whisper.
thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu#osamu x reader#suna x reader#ushijima x reader#sakusa x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#osamu smut#suna smut#ushijima smut#sakusa smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#𐙚 after hours
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Crybaby ˖ ࣪⊹
K. TSUKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹
Sum: Kei hated it how easily he let the team get to his head. What did they know, she was his crybaby after all.
Warnings: none, fluff, crybaby coded reader, kei being love sick, occ kei(kinda)!not proofread Tho reader is blk coded I hope everyone enjoys!
.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
It was wierd the team thought as they watched their middle blocker standing in front of a girl with a tear stained face. Of course their first thought is he made her cry, but that was not the case. They couldn’t help but watch as this happened multiple times before practice until Kageyama said something.
“Who’s that crybaby you stand with after practice?” He asked making Tsukishima stop tying his shoe immediately glaring up at the setter.
“Yeah making pretty girls cry huh Tsukishima!” Noya yelled pushing the blondes head.
Kei leaned up pushing Nishinoya off him “No I’m not, and don’t fucking call her a crybaby.” He spoke making eye contact with Kageyama.
“Why is she your girlfriend?” Kageyama scoffed.
“Yeah she is jackass.” A lot of the team definitely was not expecting that answer out of him. Tsukishima with a girl who’s known for being whinny, with as little patience as they know Tsukishima has she’s his girlfriend.
“No way! How is that pretty girl going out with a bully like you!” Hinata shouted.
Because he was soft with that pretty girl. Of course kei teased her for crying easily and over the most stupidest things but he was alway there to comfort her if needed. His hand squishing her tear stained face tell her it’s all right and not to be dramatic, but earns a punch for call her dramatic.
But it didn’t matter what the team thought of them, because they honestly held heavy doubts, that maybe he was to harsh with her or even mean. He didn’t think he was and she never said anything. She would right if his words ever hurt her she’d speak up. Right?
His eyes looked over to her as they walked through the night market hand in hand, a smile on her glossy lips as she looked around the food trucks. He hated that he could tell him self that he didn’t care what others thought but it did, it bothered him a lot. Was he the reason she cried sometimes, that his snotty remarks actually hurt her feelings. How could he do that to her. How could he make her cry what kind of boyfriend was he if he made her cry.
“Kei..”
He made her hurt didn’t he? The reason her pretty face was always wet with tears?
“Kei!”
He blinked. “Yo are ya with me!” She laughed waving her hand in front of his face. “Am i distracting you” she teased.
“Tsk- no you’re not.” He scoffed.
“Booo! But anyways what has you all airheaded?” She asked tilting her head slightly her braids moving to the side with her motion.
“Nothing.” He hummed.
She pressed her lips together squinting at her boyfriend, his eyes staring into her dark ones. “Will you quite that.” He asked a small smile appearing in his face as his hand pushed her face away.
Even with the moments they shared, he continued to let it eat at him. They moved to a more secluded area sitting on the grass food in hand. He watched her as she ate, and talked, about anything and everything. He just listened, as she went on, smiling at small things she said.
How did he get so lucky.. a polar opposite that didn’t annoy him. Her melanin skin glowing under the street light as they ate her smile wide and so bright. Kei let his hand fall into his hand as she continued talking admiring her.
“So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong.” She asked.
“Hm?”
She looked up as him her smile going away “what’s going through your head, I know better.” She did she knew him, mind you he hadn’t made any comment on what she was talking about nothing not even a snarky remark teasing her.
“So what is it baby?” She spoke leaning back in her hands.
He looked away from her gaze “nothing just something stupid.” He sighed closing his eyes.
He could feel her roll her eyes, the sound of her body shifting her now sitting right in-front of him. The feeling of her hands holding his face made him open his eyes.
“It’s nothikng don’t worry your tiny little head about it.” He spoke softly.
“Don’t lie what is it Kei? You know you have to talk to me to.” She spoke her brows frowning, don’t do that he thought.
“I understand but it’s nothing just letting people get to me head alright?” He spoke his hand squishing her cheeks her hands not yet leaving his face.
“Who? Is it about you-“
“It’s about us.”
She looked at him “bad things?”
He shrugged his shoulders “I guess..”
Her hands left his face, letting herself get comfortable on his lap her face close to his. “Tell me baby..”
He only looked at her for a moment his eyes looking at her lips then back to her eyes. “Do I ever make you sad?”
She tilted her head giving him an are you crazy look. “See I told you it was stupid.” He huffed.
“Why would people thing that, are they saying that?”
“Yes.” He groaned his head falling into her shoulder.
“Why?” She laughed.
He shot back pinching her cheeks “because you’re a crybaby!” He scoffed.
“Nuh uh!” She whined.
“Yuh huh!” He laughed.
Letting go of her face he watched her pout “I’m not a cry baby just open with my emotions!” She sassed.
“Uh huh sure you crybaby.” He spoke his hands resting in her hips.
“But it’s okay, you’re my crybaby.”
She smiled “shut up that’s so lame!” She scoffed pushing him.
“I thought it was good.”
“Lame!” She laughed.
“Yeah then why are you laughing you idiot!”
“Because that was cringy and stupid nothing my boyfriend would ever say.” She groaned her laughter causing him to smile.
“Whatever you idiot I can be romantic.” He said.
“Yeah I know you can but with actions not so much words.”
He scoffed “really!”
She hummed crossing her arms, making his eyes twitch “get off of me, that irritated me.”He spoke pushing her.
“Whatever! You love it.” She said getting back in his face.
He only raised a brow, “ya know ya do.” She whispered leaning on her hands, their lips grazing against one another.
“Want me to kiss you sweetheart?” He asked.
She grinned “I should be asking you that sir, you’ve been looking at me lips all evening.” She hummed.
He let her get closer their lips barely touching befor pulling away, “UGH! Why do you do that!” She whined.
“You gave me attitude.” He shrugged a grin on his face.
He watched as she fell back dramatically “you hate me!” She groaned.
“Mmhm sure do.” She sighs looking down at her smiling at her dramatic pose.
He let her complain a bit more befor leaning down kissing her lips. Only to be pulled by her for a real kiss. “Feel better…” he whispered a little breathless.
“Alway fee better when you’re here with me.” She said pushing his glasses up.
Yeah they didn’t know shit about them. He’d never hurt her, he never wanted to. She would be the only one to get true kindness out of him. Because he couldn’t afford losing her.
Req are open!!! (Plz send something I’m desperate 😞)
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu!!#hq x you#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#kei tsukishima#kei tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#hq tsukishima#tsukishima fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#tsukishima imagine#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima kei x you#tsukishima kei x black reader#x black fem reader#x black reader
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That's What Friends Are For Pt. 2- E.M.
I'm so thankful for all of the love on part one! I love each and every one of you, and I hope that you enjoy!
The morning after Eddie helps you with your first orgasm, you get to experience more new things.
Part 1
Masterlist
TW- 18+ Minors DNI, smut, cursing, pnv, first time, pet names (angel, sweetheart, baby), a lil crying (the good kind), slight fingering, handjob (lmk if I missed any!)
Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie
Word Count- 4,402
(Gifs not mine, Credit to owners!)
With a deep breath, your mind comes close to consciousness, rolling over into the warm being lying next to you. You’re about to delve back into the depths of sleep when you feel his arm snake over your waist, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss into your hair. You hum in satisfaction, cracking your eyes open with a smile forming on your lips, eyes searching for Eddie.
You look up at him through the bleary film of sleep and find him looking down at you, the morning light filtering through the curtains and highlighting the sweet freckles littered across his nose and cheeks. The bun he slept in is almost completely unraveled, wild curls formed in a sort of halo around him. “Good morning, gorgeous,” He says quietly. He still has the rasp of sleep in his voice, so you know he hasn’t been awake long. You take another deep breath and stretch your toes down, arms up in a catlike motion that loosens your muscles.
“Morning, handsome,” Your sleepy smile makes him chuckle, and he presses another kiss to your hair, the hand over your waist rubbing sweet circles on the exposed skin where your shirt had hiked in your sleep.
“How are you feeling?” There’s a quirk of his eyebrow, almost imperceptible. There’s a subtext there: Do you remember and/or regret what we did last night?
You stretch up a hand to his face, letting your thumb brush over his cheekbone before gently pulling him down to meet your lips. It’s a sweet kiss, slow and thoughtful. Last night was fucking awesome, it says. “I feel perfect,” If Eddie were a cartoon, he swears he’d have hearts and stars floating around his head at the way you look, the way you feel, the way you speak to him, and he curses himself for not snatching you up sooner. “What time is it?” It’s a Saturday. You don’t have to work today, but checking the clock when you wake up is always part of your routine.
Eddie reaches for the windowsill next to his bed to pick up his watch, to glance at the face. His lean arms and broad hands bring back memories from last night so abruptly it almost makes your head spin. You feel a twitch between your thighs. “A little after ten,” He says, putting the watch back. “Why, do you have plans today?”
“No, not really. But we could go to that farmer’s market later today if we wanted to. I like that stand that sells all those different kinds of honey,” Your hand finds his chest, fingers lightly tracing the tattoos you’ve memorized every detail of.
“And what would we do if we didn’t want to?” He asks, eyebrow raised playfully. You feel your heart leap in your chest, what would you do?
“I dunno. We could go get something from Benny’s. Or go see a movie,” You suggest. Eddie plays like he’s lost in thought, fingers drumming on his chin as he considers the options. “Or... We could lay in bed all day.”
His eyes flick to you, “That sounds like a good option,” The lopsided, dimpled smile you love so much pulls at his lips before he dips his head down to capture you in a kiss again, and you giggle into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest, calloused fingers digging lightly into your side. When you part, you rub your noses against each other, both of you still smiling.
“Can I ask you something?” You mutter, the cogs turning in your head.
“Anything,” Eddie presses a kiss to your nose, then your forehead. Your cheeks are beginning to ache from smiling so much.
“I know we didn’t really say it last night, but I was wondering if we were like... boyfriend-girlfriend now? Or... I don’t know. Are we putting a label on us?” There’s a bit of hesitation in your voice, but not enough to really alarm Eddie.
“Do you want to be boyfriend-girlfriend?” He asks, eyes widened a bit. You bite your lip and nod sheepishly, your fingers curling around the hair at the back of his neck. You didn’t think it was possible for his smile to be any more radiant than usual, but it is then as he leans in to kiss you again, the hand on your waist going to your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his large hand. It makes you dizzy, and you run your hands down his back, the kiss deepening as you open your mouths to each other. As you rake your hands back up Eddie’s back, there’s a noise from the back of his throat, one that sets your nerves on fire. It’s so beautiful that you do it again, with the same glorious result.
There’s a pounding in your chest as Eddie moves his lips down to your neck, and yours miss his skin so much you press them anywhere you can reach— the edge of his jaw, his shoulder, the base of his neck—and when Eddie sucks at that sweet spot below your ear, you let out a little whine, hands tightening around his lean frame again. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He mutters against your skin. “I’m such an idiot for not doing this sooner,”
You want to protest, to tell him that you’re the idiot for not bucking up sooner, but his hand roams up your side, over your ribs and you can’t help but sigh. “Eddie...” It’s all you can get out. It’s like you’re on drugs all over again, but the only drug here is the intoxicating feeling of Eddie—his hands, his mouth, his body—all over you.
Eddie moves so that he’s hovering over you between your legs, and you whimper, loudly and unexpectedly, as he grinds against you. You can feel him throbbing through your shorts and his pants, and it’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever felt. Of course, that position doesn’t have much competition at this point, but nevertheless, it’s like your head is stuffed with cotton candy. You instinctively push your hips up to meet his, and Eddie moans again, a needier sound this time that has you feeling almost feral.
Your hands fumble around, searching for the waistband of his pants, desperate to feel him, but Eddie pulls back, both of you panting lightly. “Are you sure you want to do this? I know I said if you still wanted to in the morning, we could, but I...” He looks away, not being able to find the words.
You bite your lip, eyes wide and wanting. “Eddie, look at me,” You plead. There’s a worry on his face as he does, his chocolate eyes soft and gorgeous. “I want you so bad I feel like I could burst into flames. I have wanted you for as long as I’ve known you. I have thought of this, dreamed of this, for years. You are my best friend and I trust you with my life. So please...”
“All I’m saying is that we don’t have to do this now. We can wait if you—”
“Edward Munson, if you don’t get down here and do me right now I swear to god!” You threaten, and Eddie lets out a bubble of laughter from his throat at your seriousness.
“Okay, okay, quit yanking my leg! I just wanted to make sure.” You smile at his smile and then you’re kissing again, all tongues and teeth as you paw at his pants again, nearly drooling at the thought of touching him. Eddie’s hand smooths down your body to your thigh, holding it up against his hip, fingertips digging deliciously into the meat of it.
“Please,” You gasp between kisses, “c-can I touch you?” Eddie groans, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head.
“God, yes,” You finally manage to get your fingers below his waistband, searching for his long, throbbing length that’s already painfully straining against his pants. When you touch it, it’s like you’ve been shocked by an electrical socket, right between your thighs. It’s so much warmer than you expected it to be, and softer, the skin smooth save for the thick vein running up the side. Though you can’t see it yet you know it’s going to be absolutely perfect. You gently grasp it as best you can in your position and give a experimental stroke. “Oh, my god. Fuck, angel,” Eddie gasps, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You bite your lip and stroke again, studying the way it feels in your hand. You’ve heard about what this is like from the few girlfriends you have. You can’t do it too hard, or it hurts like a bitch, You remember your friend saying. When you slide your hand up, you feel moisture dripping from the tip, and you gasp at the sensation. It’s hot and thick, and you get the sudden urge to taste it, but you hold back.
Eddie’s having a rough time focusing on anything other than the feeling of his cock in your hand. The sounds he’s making have you getting hotter by the second, but you’re enjoying how much Eddie’s enjoying this, so you don’t mind. You try squeezing a little harder, not much, just enough to make a difference, and Eddie bites into your collarbone lightly, making you shiver. His hand on your thigh grips you harder. “If you- If you want me to last, sweetheart,” He pants, “You’re gonna need to stop that soon,” He involuntarily ruts into your hand then with another beautiful whimper.
Suddenly, you don’t know if you want him to last. As much as you want him inside you, you also really enjoy the thought of making him unravel just like this. You gently pull your hand away, collecting the drips of precum at the tip before pulling out of his pants, and you marvel at the clear, sticky liquid pooled on your fingers before tentatively brushing it across your tongue. Eddie stares wide, mouth hung open like he’s seeing a fucking unicorn. “You’re fucking perfect,” He muses.
You giggle, a blush growing on your cheeks. “I wanna see it,” You confess, eyes wide and doe-like. Eddie nods, his lips kiss swollen and pink as he sits up on his knees between your thighs. His fingers find the waistband of his pants and he shimmies them down, his cock bouncing up to lightly slap against his abdomen as he kicks the pants off his feet. “Oh my god,” You whisper.
If you had to guess, you would say he’s about 7 inches. There’s a slight curve to it, and the tip is almost a hot pink and messy with precum. Your mouth starts watering again at the sight of it. Screw using your hand, you want him inside you. Now. “You want me to get your shorts off?” He asks, his voice husky from lust. You nod wildly, already lifting your butt off the mattress to help him. He hooks his fingers under the waistband and lowers his head to the tops of your thighs to kiss the skin there as he pulls them down. You let out a sharp whine at the new sensation and Eddie hums happily against you as you writhe beneath him. He sits up to pull the shorts from your legs to toss them to the floor with his pants, and just like last night, he looks at you beneath him like he’s just been served a gourmet meal. “So fucking beautiful,” You sit up then, reaching out to touch along his sides, breathing heavily as you press your lips to the space between his thighs and stomach. Eddie gasps above you, his head rolled back as you trace your tongue in little patterns, mirroring the path he took with his mouth on you.
You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, wanting to be naked with him, wanting for every inch of skin to touch him when he marks you from the inside. You reach up to his neck and pull him down with you, mouths finding each other as you rest your head back on Eddie’s pillow. Eddie takes his time to peruse your newly naked skin with his mouth, kissing over the mounds of your breasts before gently pulling a nipple into his mouth. You moan deeply, tangling your fingers through his hair as he sucks gently, running his tongue over the hardened bud before seeking the other one. “God, Eddie, fuck. Please, I need you... Please,” you beg, sending your hips up in search of him. Eddie shushes you, bringing his lips back to yours.
“I know, baby, I know,” He murmurs against your lips. “I’ve got you,” He leans over to his bedside table, pulling the drawer open. He fumbles through the junk for a moment before fishing out a little foil packet, which he rips open with his teeth. He tries putting the condom on with one hand while he supports himself with the other, but he fumbles, so you reach your hand down to help him, rolling it down to the base of his cock, earning another moan from him at the mere feeling of you.
He looks back to your face, the hand not supporting him goes to your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. “This might hurt. I’m gonna go as slow as I can, but you’ll tell me if I need to stop, right?” He searches your eyes for any doubt.
“I will,” You promise with a little nod. He mirrors your nod as he leans to kiss you again, and his hand goes down to the space between the two of you to position himself correctly to slide into you. He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit for a moment to spread the wetness before slowly, so slowly, he starts pushing himself past your tight entrance.
You both gasp at the same time, clutching each other as you adjust. There’s a burn as you stretch open around him, and you’re not sure if going slow helps or hurts, but you can’t even think straight to decide. Behind the burn of being split open is a mind-crushing pleasure that has you curling your toes and arching your back. “Oh my god, oh my god,” You hear yourself cry.
“I know, baby, fuck...” Eddie’s eyes are screwed shut, you assume to focus on not completely slamming into you. “So fucking tight, angel...” He mutters. It’s hard to keep your breath with the way you’re panting, but you try to focus on it as he inches into you. He whispers encouragement to you as he sinks in deeper and deeper until you feel him so deep you know he won’t be able to go any further.
“Fuck, I feel so... full.” Your eyes screw shut as you feel the pressure of his head against your cervix. Eddie gives a strained chuckle and sighs.
“I’m not even all the way in, sweetheart. I’m gonna have to do a better job warming you up next time. I just needed to fucking feel this,” He hangs his head against your chest, and your hands go to his hair, smoothing it out away from his face. You’re hips suddenly move on their own, and you both hiss a breath of pleasure at the delicious friction. “Oh fuck! Jesus, angel, you’re so fucking needy for it,” He moans, pressing hot, wet kisses to your shoulder before starting back up toward your face.
“I-I’m sorry!” Your head is buzzing like a beehive, the only word you’re able to consciously focus on is EddieEddieEddieEddie. Eddie captures your lips again, your tongues smoothing across each other.
“Don’t worry. I just didn’t expect it is all,” He heaves a breath, scrunching his eyes closed. “I- I think I need to start moving now, though. It’s a crime to sit still while I’m inside you,” The erotic praise sends another shockwave through you, and you nod.
“Yeah, yeah, please do that,” You hang your head back on the pillow to let him do pretty much whatever he wants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you have to trust him to show you everything. He pulls out slowly, too, though not as slowly as he went in. You give a little whine as you feel the pleasure-pain again, and Eddie looks at you with alarmed eyes, but you nod at him for him to continue. He’s not all the way out when he starts pushing back in again, and you begin to feel more pleasure than pain. Your limbs are heavy and warm with pleasure as he starts setting a slow rhythm.
Eddie’s hand hoists your thigh up around his hip again, and the new angle offers deeper pleasure than before, making you moan as he pushes in again. “Oh my god,” You whine, your fingertips grasping at the skin of his back. Your lips search for Eddie’s face, and you kiss across his cheek to his lips, feeling the vibration of his moan on your mouth.
“You feel—so fucking—so fucking good, baby.” His words are strained, he’s so focused on going slow enough to not cause you pain, but he’s also suffering for it. He wants nothing more than to be able to fuck you deep into the mattress, hard and fast. But maybe next time. He’ll be good for you. He’ll be so good for you.
“A little faster, please,” You plead, your breath coming in uneven and heavy. Eddie is all to eager to provide, gradually working the pace up a bit, his hips hitting yours a bit harder in a way that makes your breasts bounce on your chest with every snap of his hips. “Oh, fuck—” He’s hit something different now, something deep inside you that makes your vision go fuzzy for a minute, then he hits it again. You let out a tense whine at the contact, and your nails dig into his back.
“You like that, angel? Fuck, does that feel good?” In a different tone, it would sound taunting, but the way Eddie’s voice drips with need, you know that he’s begging to hear the answer.
“God, yes—feels so fucking good, Ed,” You feel your eyes start to itch with tears, and you hold back a choked sob as he continues fucking into you. He presses hot kisses to your neck, and you move one of your hands to grasp at the hand supporting him on the bed. He moves to accommodate, careful to keep himself up while you thread your fingers together above your head.
“So fucking good for me. You’re so pretty, sweetheart. I’ve got you, don’t you worry.” He squeezes your hand, his other does the same to the meat of your thigh, making you buck your hips beneath him without meaning to.
You continue like this for a few minutes, suspended somewhere otherworldly as you push each other closer and closer toward that undiluted bliss you felt for the first time last night. Between the kissing and the sighs, Eddie releases the hand he’s holding. “I need you to do something, sweetheart,” He rasps. You nod eagerly, trying to keep your focus on what he’s saying to you. “I’m- fuck, I’m getting pretty close. And I want you to cum with me. So I want you to take these pretty fingers,” He leans down to kiss them one by one, nibbling on the very tips of them, “and I want you to go down and rub your clit for me, okay? You remember how I did it last night?” You nod again, beginning to run your hand down between your bodies in search of that magic button Eddie brought you to tears with.
You shiver when you brush over it, letting out a mewl. “That’s a good girl,” Eddie encourages. “Take your fingers and rub it in circles. Not too hard, you don’t want to bruise it,”
“’Kay,” You start trying to find a rhythm, starting slow, moving the pads of your fingers over the swollen bud. You start to feel it drive your pleasure forward, so you keep your focus on it, trying not to lose your rhythm.
“That’s it, angel. You’re doing so good for me. Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Don’t stop pretty girl, I wanna feel you cum on my cock,” You drink in the words like water, ignoring the pain beginning in your inexperienced wrist as you continue, pressing a bit harder, circling a little faster on instinct.
“Oh my God, Eddie,” You whine, “feels so fucking good,” You’re getting that crying feeling again now, like your body is working in overdrive to accommodate for the blanket of sensation around you.
“I know, I know, baby,” He moans, capturing you in a sloppy kiss. Your tears spill over your eyes then, falling in hot drips down your face, cooling as they reach your neck. You shiver, from that and from hitting a certain spot around your clit. You gasp, and the tension in your stomach starts building.
“Oh my God,” You whine again. “I’m-- I think I’m getting close.” You let your eyes screw shut, lewd noises spilling from your lips like a waterfall as you get closer and closer to release.
“Fuck, I know, pretty girl. I am too. So fucking close,” He’s panting above you, “Don’t you stop. Make yourself cum on my cock. I know you can do it, angel. Cum for me, please, baby. I wanna feel it,” His voice is so sweet and needy in your ear that you can feel your body begin to unravel, the tension in your stomach teetering on a tightrope.
Then, the tightrope snaps, and you have to bite back a scream, tears flooding down your face as you descend into a dizzying orgasm. Your vision blackens around the edges as your walls clamp around Eddie’s cock, and he starts spewing profanities, his thrusts get sloppier. With a low moan into your neck, you feel him twitch inside you, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak. You keep rubbing at your clit, like Eddie did after you came last night, and it does seem to keep the waves rolling through you for a little longer. Finally, when your wrist is too tired to move anymore, you let your fingers come to a stop, and you let your hand flop to the side, both of you sucking breaths to try to regain your composure. You let your eyes flutter closed again as you let your soul return to your body, and Eddie leans down to kiss anywhere his lips can reach.
You revel in the feeling, knowing that if you died spontaneously, you’d do it with a smile, and soon Eddie is easing himself out of you, adjusting his lower body so that he can lay his head on your chest without completely crushing you. “Sweetheart?” He asks. “Are you okay?” There’s a slight laugh in his voice, but he can see the tears on your face.
In response, you raise a hand to run through his hair, not remembering how to speak yet, and give a slow nod. You can feel a smile rising on your lips, lazy and dreamy, like this had all been some beautiful fantasy of the subconscious. Finally, you start to open your eyes, and you find Eddie looking intently at your face, trying to gauge your feelings. “There you are,” He murmurs, his hand coming to brush a stray tear from your cheek.
“Here I am,” You breathe, a little bubble of laughter bursting from your throat. That makes Eddie feel better, much better. He laughs a little, too.
“How you feelin’ angel?” You sigh deeply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.
“I feel fantastic.” You kiss Eddie’s forehead again and press your cheek into his hair. The laugh he gives now sounds a little less hesitant with the verbal confirmation of your wellbeing.
“Good. I’m gonna get up in a minute to get you a towel, okay?” His hand slides down the length of your body, stopping to rest on your hip. You let your fingers card through his dark curls as he lightly kisses your collarbone.
“You take such good care of me,” You compliment, that dreamy tone still lilting your voice. You feel him squeeze your hip just slightly, like he’s trying to hug you while laying on you.
“Anything for my favorite girl,” You giggle. He said that last night, too. You both rest for a quiet moment then, just feeling the warmth of your bodies pressed together. Finally, after a few minutes of this, Eddie raises his head to look at you again. “You still want to go to the farmer’s market later?” You don’t know why you find this so funny, but you laugh a lot harder than you probably should.
“I don’t think so,” You say. “I don’t think we’re going to want to go very far from this bed, today,”
“Oh?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. “And why is that?”
“Because I think you’ve just created a monster,” You tell him matter-of-factly. “I don’t know how I lived so long without this.” Eddie laughs at your brazenness.
“We’ll see about that, baby. Wait until you try to stand up. We’ll see how much you want it after trying to walk,”
“Well, how about I just lay here then? Then I won’t have to worry about it!” Eddie reaches his face to meet yours, his warm lips moving over yours with increasing ease as you settle into each other like this.
“What am I going to do with you?” He asks, breath fanning over your face. Your heart breaks out in a sprint at his tender touch. You breathe another, exaggerated sigh.
“I don’t know. What are you going to do with me?” You grin playfully as he ponders this.
“Everything, I hope,” He settles on, giving you your favorite smile.
“Ooh, I can get on board with that!” With that, you pull his face toward yours, both of you laughing as you kiss each other breathless once again.
@eddiernunson @names-were-taken @unverifiedmeatsuit
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things fic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie#eddie munson smut#eddie x reader#eddie x fem!reader
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babymaker • c.s.c
Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader
Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff
Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth
WC: 7.9k
A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah
Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.
Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor.
University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits.
Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement.
You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror.
Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.
"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.
"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way."
"Of course, as long as it's convenient."
"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.
You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom.
All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"
Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?
Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."
"You're a busy man."
"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."
"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."
"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."
"Yeah, okay."
While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum.
"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."
"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.
"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea.
Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.
"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"
And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?
Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!
It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.
When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.
You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.
The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened.
Safety. Security. Seungcheol.
Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.
And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.
Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.
You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile.
Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.
Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal.
He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.
You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.
It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop.
When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.
And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more.
These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair.
He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.
So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only.
The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.
Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.
The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for.
But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.
"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."
What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.
But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?
Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man.
Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.
"Kiss me."
And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.
"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."
"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.
"Not like that, up."
Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.
This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.
"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind.
Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.
"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"
"No… s-sorry."
"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"
Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.
"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."
"Most times, not."
"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"
The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.
He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.
So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt.
When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.
He waits for you to surrender.
Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.
Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"
It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.
"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."
"Thought you'd never ask."
No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"
It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.
"Bullshit."
"Bet."
"You love it when people stare at you."
There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."
"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."
Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.
"What?"
"You like me, don't you?"
It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "
"Forget about my cock for a bit."
"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home.
Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."
"… Alright."
"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "
"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"
Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."
"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."
"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"
The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.
"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."
"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."
He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.
Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"
"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "
Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."
"Wh-what?"
"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you."
Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."
"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."
"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."
He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."
"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."
"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?"
"Yeah… because you love me!"
There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.
"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."
Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin.
You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."
"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"
"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"
"'Cause you never clean."
"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."
"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."
"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"
"… Six months."
Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"
"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"
"Oh yes, because that's the point here."
"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."
All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"
"Do… do you not like it?"
"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."
"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "
"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"
A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."
"Choi Seungcheol."
"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."
It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp.
"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"
"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?"
Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.
"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."
"You're so sappy, what the heck."
"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."
"Testing?"
"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"
You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."
"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"
"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.
But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.
Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.
"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."
"So that's what you meant by test…"
The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.
It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."
And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.
Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement.
Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.
He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before.
But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.
"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.
The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.
A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.
You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"
"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"
"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."
"Oh? And how so? What for?"
"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.
"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."
"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…"
"You don't sound sorry."
Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.
Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions.
He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"
"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."
"Brat."
"You love me."
"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."
You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."
"I'm never mean to you."
"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."
"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."
"Wha — ?"
The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.
He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.
"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."
"Mmph, ah… only yours!"
No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white.
It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.
But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are.
"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."
"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."
"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."
"Jus' want, just want your dick."
"I know, baby."
Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.
"No!"
In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside.
He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."
A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.
"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."
Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.
"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat.
"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."
"Yeah, all yours, baby."
Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure.
That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness.
The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.
"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"
"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"
"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."
A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips.
You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own.
He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.
"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.
"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"
"I'm serious. I love you."
"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."
He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."
"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."
Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"
"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."
"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."
You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"
"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."
"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."
"Love you too."
"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return.
"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"
You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.
onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©
#ez.creates#svthub#svt.smut#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol smut#smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#kpop smut#scoups smut#I secretly loathe this fic 😭#1k 🌟
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Civilian Life
READ PART TWO: SIMON’S FANTASY
READ PART THREE: GIRL’S NIGHT
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, dirty talk, domestic!Simon, PIV sex, riding, fluff and smut, hair pulling, doggy, missionary, riding, fingering, cunnilingus
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Simon wonders, when he's too exhausted to breathe and drifting off to sleep, what you're doing at home. In his flat. In his bed. He doesn't get a phone, not on missions, because of the risk. His phone can be traced back to him, to his face, to you. He'll never take the risk of putting you in danger.
Never.
But he's a fucking softie for you, and so he wonders. Are you sleeping? Are you up watching telly? Are you laying in bed, minutes before you'll fall asleep, thinking the same thing he's thinking?
And God, he'll come home and sleep for three days straight, tired and worn down, and you sleep right there with him. You take the week off work every single time he comes home just to spend time with him. You rub that bruise-balm on the bruises he has from fighting and then you press up on your fucking tip-toes to kiss him.
"God, you are perfect," he purrs, hands on your back, holding you against him. You'll giggle, try to escape his arms, and it'll end with you pressed up against the wall, losing your 'fight' and kissing him.
You put your hands on his cheeks, you let him lift you to hold you against the wall, and you whimper when his hands squeeze your waist. Perfect. Woman.
You go out with him, you drag him around to little markets and cafes. You hold his hand, overjoyed he's home alive, and London seems to decide the rain is over when you're out. The tiny spots of sun light up your face and if Simon could bribe the sun to stay out and the clouds to fuck off he would.
"Simon," there's a hand on his shoulder as he zones out into a market table of jewelry while you look at them, "didn't know you were in London."
It's John at his side, the captain, and you light up when you see him.
"John!" You haven't seen him since the wedding and so you jump at the chance to pull him into a hug. John gives you a friendly post on the back, chuckling.
"Nice to see you, love." John says as you pull away.
"You too! Oh, I haven't seen you since the wedding!" You can't keep the smile off your face. The last time you were all together was Johnny's wedding and god was that a night…
He remembers the drunk sex you had in the back of his car, the way you babbled about needing to be the next girl to get married, that you wanted to be his wife…
"How've you been?" John's voice pulls him back from his memory.
"Great! Happy to be out." You reply. "The weather's finally nice."
"It is." John looks across the street, "couple of the boys and me are getting lunch across the street, wanna stop in?"
You look up at Simon, asking him if it's okay with your eyes.
"Sure." Simon replies. You smile up at him and reach over to take his hand.
Gaz, Johnny, Johnny's girl, and Konig are across at the restaurant. They pull in chairs for you and Simon and you sit.
"Konig," you smile at him, sitting next to him with Simon on the other side, "surprised to see you! Why're you in London?"
"Uhm," he's unsure of himself unless he's got a gun in his hand, has been since Simon met him, "just visiting, I haven't been to London since I was little."
"How do you like it?" Then begins the small talk. You tell everyone about your new job, about the puppy you want, and you laugh as they all gang up on him for not getting it for you.
"She's gotta be lonely while you're off on missions," John jokes.
"Bad boyfriend behavior Simon," Kaz says.
You bite your lips to keep yourself from laughing too hard and Simon jokes that they're all his squad mates and that they'll be watching their own backs next time.
You don't get home until nearly half-past seven, you eat pizza on the couch and watch telly until you're going off to be with him behind you.
It's supposed to be a goodnight kiss. You're in your little satin tank top and shorts set, hands on his chest, pressing against him. Simon can't help himself. He can't help the way his lips trail to your neck, the way his teeth tease at your skin, and he definitely loses all control when he hears you gasp his name.
Fuck it all to hell.
He leaves your neck blooming with black and blue, he squeezes your hips and dips his finger into your shorts to grope your ass. You whimper for him, you thread your fingers in his short hair and you tug it, and when your knees go weak you just get on them.
Simon groans when you look up at him, your hands on his pajama bottoms, lips already slightly parted. Can I? Simon wonders why you ask. He nods, his fingers in your hair. His pajamas hit the floor and you take him in your hand, eyes drifting closed when you wrap your mouth around him.
"Fuck, love, the shit you do to me…" He groans. This is what he tries to imagine when he takes himself into his hand in the rare alone moments on missions. He tries to imagine the way your mouth feels around him.
It never compares.
You've got a horrible gag reflex when you're tense, and you're always tense. Simon hears you gag and a shiver runs up his spine. He knows it’s painful, and that you hate it, but it’s all in your head that you’re going to gag. He’s gotta get you out of your head.
"Take it slow," he grumbles, "not going anywhere."
You pull your mouth off of him and lick your lips as you stare up at him.
"Will you fuck my throat?" You ask it like he'll say no, like 'no' is an option. Simon wouldn't be a man if he said no to that.
He imagines the headspace it put you in too and god he's fucked.
"'Course I will, sweetheart," he replies and you smile up at him before your mouth is hanging open again. Devastating.
Simon eases himself in, he reminds you to breathe through your nose, then he takes your hair in his hand… makes a ponytail in his fucking fist… and starts to fuck your throat. He sees your eyes roll back at one point and he wonders if you're enjoying this more than he is. He hears you whimper, feels your fingertips and your nails dig into his thighs and god he just wants to make you take it because he knows how much you love it when does.
You go fucking crazy for him to take your control out of your hands, for him to make you his. He has to pull your mouth off of him so that he doesn't cum down your throat. He has to fuck you, he hasn't fucked you in so long.
"S-Simon-" your voice is almost a whine, almost asking him why he stopped. He chuckles.
"Gotta fuck you," Simon replies, just as breathless as you are, "Gotta fuck you, okay?"
“P-” you stutter, let him pull you to your feet, “-Please.”
Your legs shake as he pulls your tank top over your head. You never wear a bra to bed, an added bonus to every night he gets to sleep next to you, and Simon wants to fall to his knees and mark your chest up like it’s his only job. Your knees have to be killing you though, and so he gets you out of your shorts and onto the bed on your back.
“Simon…” his hands trail down your thighs, they knead your skin. Your soft, soft fucking skin. He’s gotta get his mouth between your thighs. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He’d fuck you in a second but he’s gotta draw it out.
He wants to give you a night you brag about to your girlfriends tomorrow. He loves hearing the way you brag about his skills.
Simon sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed and he takes your thighs in each hand to pull you closer. Your legs dangle over his shoulders, you’re watching him without breathing. His hands press your hips to the bed when they wiggle, he tries to give you his most dangerous eyes.
“Stay still,” he says, “or else.”
“Or else?” you tease, not too far gone to give him shit and Simon commits himself to remedying it. “What would you do to me? Oh, please don’t punish me Ghost, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”
You’re giggling, you have the audacity to giggle while he’s between your legs but what has Simon freezing isn’t your giggles, it’s the way you called him Ghost. You know his code name, of course you do, but you’ve never used it. Never. Simon get’s impossibly harder at the fantasy that pops into his head.
Bending you over a table, handcuffing you, pushing you close to the edge again and again with all of his gear on, pressing you for information you won’t give… promising to make you cum if you just give me the intel, sweetheart. He’s gotta tell you about it later. You’d be down for it, his little freak.
Simon rolls his eyes at your giggling and presses your thighs open to get his fucking mouth on you. You gasp, one of your hands is in your hair, the other one is thrown over your face, hiding behind it. Simon presses his arm over your lower belly to pin you down and presses two fingertips to your hole. You spread your legs wider, you cry out his name, and Simon sinks two of his fingers into you. God, the way you clench around them makes his head spin.
“I-I’m-” it’s so early, so fast, that it throws you off guard. You try to close your legs around his head, stop him from going further, but he elbows them open and keeps his fingers moving.
“My poor girl,” Simon whispers against the skin of your thighs, “always so neglected when I’m off on a mission, aren’t you?”
“A-Am. I am.” your hips twitch, you squirm on his fingers, and Simon groans at the way your back arches.
“Let me make it up to you, love.” he replies, voice low and dark. Simon is intent on getting you to cum atleast once more before he turning you over and fucking you just the way you like.
“Simon!” you squeal, legs twitching to close. You work hard to keep them open, just the way you know he likes, shaking like a damn leaf.
“One more, sweetheart, gimme one fucking more.” Simon growls before he’s putting his mouth back on you and sucking your clit into his mouth.
You sob, your legs close around his head and he thinks try to push me away, try it love because he knows you like it when he pushes you, he knows how you like it when he takes control of your body. You can’t stop the incoherent rambles of his name and please and stop that tumble from your lips. You try to lift your hips off the bed but he shoves them down. You try to back yourself up to get away from him but he keeps you pinned with an arm across your stomach. You slap your hands over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming and Simon reacts, lifting his arm off your stomach to pin them down with your hips by the wrists.
You cum screaming his name, trying to break his neck with your fucking thighs and spasming around his fingers. He’s never seen you cum that hard and now he’s hooked.
“Why did you-” you pant, struggling with your words, “the-the neighbors Simon…”
“Don’t fucking care,” he grumbles, he kisses your quaking thighs, “pieces of shite anyways.”
“Simon…” you’re trying to sound scold-y, like you’re angry with him, but when he crawls up your body and kisses you, you stop complaining. He’s gotta give you time to recover after something like that, and so he just holds you for a little while, kissing you and running his hands calmly over your back.
You start kissing him again after a while, tongue tangled with his, breath heavy, eyes lidded. He can feel your skin grow hotter, clammier, and you throw your leg over his hip to get him on his back.
“Goddamnit…” he groans when you sit up, hands splayed across his chest, back arched to grind against him. He puts a hand under his head, the other reaching down to grab your hip and guide you.
You lift your hips, reach down beneath you and line him up. God, you sink yourself down on him and you just can’t keep yourself from grinding on him. Simon watches you lift your hips, hears the way you moan and watches you throw your head back with it. He fills you up nicely, has had you crying your compliments more than once, and you like to savor it when you’re on top. You grind your hips, you drag them up and down his cock slowly, and within ten minutes Simon’s a goddamn mess for you. He thrusts his hips upwards, he uses his hands on your hips to control the drag of your hips, and you fall apart on top of him.
“Ch-Change me,” you whimper, losing speed and stamina, “O-On my- want you from behind-”
You don’t need to tell him twice.
Simon gets you to your chest, knees spread, back arched, hands gripping the sheets above your head. Simon is a gentleman, or at least he can be, and so he moves your hair out of your face and gathers it into a ponytail in his fist to pull it. You gasp, hips squirming to grind against him. Simon holds your hips still with one hand.
“You’re gonna take it like my good little slut, aren’t you?” you nod, whimpering, clenching down around nothing.
“I’m yours- your good little slut,” you whisper against the sheets, eyes shut and rolled back. Simon sinks in, so fucking slow, and sob with it. You’ve told him before this angle is different, deeper, more sensitive. You can’t stop the way your hips twitch and grind against, it’s impossible with how desperate you’ve become.
Simon’s hips snap forward and you cry out his name as he starts to fuck you. You’re both so sensitive, so desperate from him being away, that it's not gonna be long before he’s pulling out to cum on your thighs. He groans at the image his memory brings up for him of your thighs all covered with him. He releases your hair to sit up, hands on your ass and hips, groping a cheek before he pulls his hand back to spank you. You sob, hand reaching back to push at his naval.
“Don’t fucking think so,” he growls, pinning your wrists in one of his hands and fucking you harder for it, “fucking take it,”
Your hips still, back arched as far down as it’ll go, legs spread wider as you pulse around him through your third orgasm of the night. You moan, the bed bumps against the wall, and Simon’s grip on your wrists and hip tightens.
“Where, love?” he grits out.
“Inside,” you cry, “please, inside,”
Who the fuck is he to argue? He goes still, buried inside of you, and has the best orgasm of his fucking life. You take it like the perfect girl you are, whimpering when he pulls out. He grabs a towel, puts it under your hips but he’s depraved, a sick fucking man, because he kneels behind you and watches it drip out of you for a second before he wipes you down with a towel and turns you over.
Fucked out, googly eyed, you pull him down for Simon’s guiltest of guilty pleasures: naked, after-sex cuddles.
#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost mw2#Smut#cod mw2#cod#mw2 x reader#ghost smut#ghost x reader smut
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