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#Oh well. Grits teeth and sighs
my greatest achievement in DA2 is maxing out Carver's friendship
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and all it took was begrudgingly kissing a little templar ass in act 1 because Carver didn't want to plan a prison break if my Hawke got his ass arrested for being stupid.
#carver hawke#dragon age#dragon age 2#da2#well that and he didn't want leandra gamlen and himself to also get arrested for harboring an apostate but you get me#carver hawke loves his sibling and doesn't want them to get taken away that's why he's such an ass and approves of 'pro-templar' choices#in act 1 he's not pro-templar himself but kissing a little templar ass is how you avoid being arrested#'why yes cullen you are so right the templars are so cool and sexy' my hawke says through gritted teeth for that +5 friendship#look i love him okay he's my favorite and i will go the extra mile to make him happy and it's worth it for how much softer can be later on#honestly maxing out his friendship isn't hard if you're aware of what quests you're bringing him on and make him a grey warden#oh but you do need the legacy dlc otherwise you can't fully max friendship out... you can still get enough to change his dialogue/attitude#also like... we the player know hawke won't be arrested like they're not in any actual dangers from the templars as the playable character#but carver doesn't know that and neither does hawke so the templars *are* a real threat to them#and it's incredibly reckless to purposely piss off templars AND selfish because it's not just hawke that'll be arrested it's their family#for harboring them like we witness templars going after people hiding apostates soooo.....#i'm just saying that carver isn't irrational or just being an ass to personally annoy you okay he has cause#also once carver's a warden and ed has money and the estate THEN he's way more open about telling the templars to piss off#sigh one day i'll sit down and write an essay about carver.... one day
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lyricalambrosia · 9 months
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I'm struggling so much with how to start chapter 3 of can you feel the sun.....ive spent (checks notes) 2?? Days??? Just staring at the same three sections because the pacing feels so wrong to me but ive kind of put myself in a Situation™ here so. Ugh. Gonna have to rewrite already 😔
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coldvampire · 2 years
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tonycries · 3 days
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Never Ever Seen This Before!
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Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!
Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 
Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.
“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”
It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 
But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.
“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”
Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”
You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.
Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?
God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”
And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.
And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 
“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 
“No moving, doll. Remember?”
“But-”
“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”
Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 
Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.
It was maddening.
“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 
“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.
“Please just fuck me- ah!”
Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!
Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 
The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 
Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.
“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 
You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”
He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”
You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.
“Hm, good.” he grits out.
And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 
As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”
Smack!
“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 
You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 
“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”
You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”
Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 
You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 
“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”
Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 
With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 
“Ah! Oh-”
“Count.”
“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”
Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?
Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 
“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 
But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.
Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”
Oh.
What have you done?
♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!
Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.
That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 
So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 
“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 
Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 
“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”
Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”
Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”
“Can’t cum anymore!”
Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.
“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-
“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”
And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 
And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 
You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.
His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.
Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 
“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”
And then, it happens - something snaps.
Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.
And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.
It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.
Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!
Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 
So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 
You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”
He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 
“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 
Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 
Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 
God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 
Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 
So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 
Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.
You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 
In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 
“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.
By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”
“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 
The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.
And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-
“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.
But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.
And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 
Messy. It was so fucking messy.
Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.
“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!
Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 
Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?
But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 
“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-
“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”
Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”
All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 
Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 
“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.
“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 
In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.
“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-
“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 
Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.
God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough
And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 
Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 
Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 
“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.
“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 
The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.
“Then cum.”
And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.
♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!
Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 
“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 
“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 
“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 
You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-
“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.
“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”
“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.
Stubborn bastard.
“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”
You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.
The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.
Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”
His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 
“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”
Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.
“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”
“No.”
“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”
He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.
A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”
And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”
“Louder.”
“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”
Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.
And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 
Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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gojonanami · 3 months
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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞
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❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞
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✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader
✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika
✧ wc: 4,916
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Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 
‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 
Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 
Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 
Don’t do this, girl. 
Another message. 
What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience
What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 
Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 
You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 
All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 
You needed better friends. 
So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 
You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 
Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 
“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 
You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 
The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 
“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 
Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 
But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 
You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 
“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 
You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 
He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 
Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 
Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 
“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 
“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 
He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 
“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 
You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 
“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 
His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 
Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 
You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 
“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“
Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 
He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 
“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 
“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 
“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 
You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 
“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 
“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 
“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 
Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 
“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 
“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 
He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 
“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 
Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 
His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 
~~~
“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 
“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 
“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 
Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 
His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 
“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 
You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 
His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 
His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 
“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 
“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 
“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 
But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 
“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 
But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 
And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”
“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 
And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 
But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 
Or rather, when you get there. 
~~~
“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 
And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 
“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”
You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 
“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 
And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 
Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 
It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 
The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 
“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 
And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 
Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 
“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”
And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 
 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 
He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 
And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 
He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 
“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 
No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 
The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 
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✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.
✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy
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lovebugism · 3 months
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istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.
i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.
from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3
hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.
Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.
You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 
“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”
“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”
“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”
“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.
He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”
Your jaw tightens. “Why?”
“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”
He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”
“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.
Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.
He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.
Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”
—————
By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.
You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 
You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.
“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.
“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”
“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.
“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”
You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”
You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?”
He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”
You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.
“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”
“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.
“You’re so annoying.”
Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”
“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.
“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”
You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.
You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.
“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”
“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.
You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”
“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”
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puppykento · 1 month
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fuck about it - older bf!toji x fem!reader [drabble]
a/n: title from the waterparks song of the same name !!
cw: 18+ content, p in v, pet names, very mild degradation, creampie, mating press, brief nipple play
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Toji likes his girlfriend a lot. Seriously, he does. You're sweet - a lot cuter than his normal type. He tends to like them sexier, with long legs and dolled up faces, but you? You drive him crazy with your doe-eyes and bubbly personality.
He's surprised that such a cute girl can pack an attitude like you can. 'Cause you're seriously adorable, but your incessant whining drives him up the wall. You really are lucky you have that puppy-dog look about you because he'd feel a lot less guilty about going so rough on you if you didn't look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
When you come home from college yapping about this issue, and that - talking his damn ear off, he's had enough. The only thing that ever manages to shut you up seems to be pumping you full of his cum, and he'd gladly provide his cock whenever you got bitchy enough for it. He's tried talking it out before, but it never seems to work. You want him to fuck the argument out of you? Fine. He'd do it gladly.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
He's got you bent in half on the bed, knees pressed to your chest as he presses his thumb down against his tip, slowly pushing it into your drippy cunt with a groan. His hand slips away from his cock as he presses forward, sliding up your body to grope at your tits. You let out the prettiest whine as he pinches and tugs at one of your nipples, watching as all the annoyance drains from your face.
"Such a pretty little slut. Takin' my cock so well, ain't ya princess?" He grunts, instantly picking up the pace until he's bullying his length against your cervix with every thrust, his hips slapping against the fat of your ass.
"Always givin' me so much back talk, but ya get so soaked f'me..." He adds, his brows furrowing as he thrusts his cock into you, both of his hands moving to the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees more firmly against your chest. You're moaning his name, a sound that's got him gritting his teeth as he tries not to blow his load early.
"Bratty slut... so easy to fuck that attitude right out 'f ya." He forces out past his gritted teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as he feels your walls clenching down on his cock, sucking him in. Feels like you're trying to milk him with the way your pussy is gripping onto him. His hand slips down between your legs, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. Your back arches, a breathy moan spilling past your lips as you cum, clenching oh-so deliciously around him.
"Fuck, bunny. That's a good fuckin' girl." He groans, sloppily thrusting into you, forcing your release to dribble down your thighs and his balls as slick sounds fill the bedroom. One, two, three more thrusts, and he's burying himself to the hilt, pressing his body weight against you as he goes limp on the back of your thighs, grunting your name as he coats your insides in his cum.
After a few moments, he lets out a sigh and pulls out, flopping onto the bed next to you. He throws an arm over his eyes, going limp against the mattress. "You gonna stop bitchin' at me now?"
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
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Discovery
Summary: Miguel tries to fix the damage of his obsession for you, only to discover a secret you’ve been keeping that will change everything…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 3k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced/In*ocent/V*rgin reader. Mast*rbation. Voye*rism (have to thank this anon).
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous Part
Miguel O’Hara took pride in being able to keep his emotions at check.
For the most part, at least.
But when it came to you, he constantly found his reason at war with his feelings.
The way you were eyeing him expectantly, made his stomach flip.
“Is there something wrong?”
Many things.
For once, he didn’t want to lie to you. However, he dreaded what might happen in case he told you the truth.
Shaking his head, he took your pad in his hands, and glanced over at his watch.
100%
He wanted to just open the file and finally know who this Tom individual was, but he could see a faint frown settle on your face.
“Why can’t I have access to the settings?” you asked, coming to stand by his side to glare at the lit up screen.
He really didn’t want to lie.
“I needed to adjust the prototype first, before giving you full access,” he managed to say.
Great, Miguel.
Your eyes moved to glare at him. “You could have informed me of that.”
He could only nod, he tapped and scrolled through the interface, overriding the block he had placed on it a couple of days ago.
You didn’t seem upset in the slightest. If anything, it you seemed… tired? Sleepy?
“It’s done,” Miguel said, handing the pad back to you. “The interference was probably a mic, by the way.”
As you fought back a yawn, your face twisted into confusion. “A mic?”
Miguel was trying to play it casually, hoping that it would be enough to deflect this issue altogether.
But you… you were not easily detracted.
“Why is there a mic in my suit?”
His heart rate had nearly doubled, and he felt his sweat grow cold as your gaze intensified.
Then, he saw you straighten up as if hit by a sudden realisation.
“You… don’t trust me?” your voice was but a whisper and you started backing away from him. “You’re spying on me?”
Somehow, the conclusion you had drawn was almost as appalling as the truth.
“No! That is not why.”
“Then why?”
Miguel pressed his lips together, and you took his silence as an answer.
“Oh… you really don’t trust me, do you?” you went on, tears welling in your eyes. “I mean… Jessica did tell me you were against me joining Spider Society… I just… thought she wasn’t being serious…”
Miguel stepped closer, feeling a surge of indignation. “That was before I realised your potential!”
You blinked your tears away angrily. “You’re not even denying it.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I had my doubts at first, yes. Your inexperience, for example. But Jess quickly convinced me to take you in,” he continued, knowing that he sounded desperate at this point. “You are a very talented spider, and I realised that nearly right away.”
Then your eyes widened all of a sudden as if you had just realised something daunting.
Miguel felt his stomach flip, already anticipating more something much worse.
“Oh… oh… you — you sent Jessica to my dimension because of Tom…” you said, visibly shaken. “He’s subject A. You… you… woah!”
Miguel felt control slip through his fingers with each accusation you threw at him.
There was no point denying it, and he didn’t want to lie to you. If anything, he only sought to do damage control.
But your usual calm and sweet demeanor had long vanished.
“Who do you think Tom is?” you said between gritted teeth, clenching your fists at your sides. “Some… some secret weapon against Spider Society? Is that it?”
It was evident from your reaction that he clearly wasn’t that.
“Listen, I d-”
But you immediately cut him off, tears streaking down your face. “You want to know who he really is? Do you?”
In truth, he did. However, not at the expense of your emotional stability. Not like this. Everything was going sideways and he felt petrified.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ll tell you!” you spat, hurt swelling in your voice. “Three days after I got bitten by that spider, I was struggling to get the hang of all the changes.” You began pacing nervously around the room, no longer looking at him. “I was heading toward a robbery site and… Tom was there… the criminals had dynamite and were threatening to blow up the building,” your voice cracked momentarily and you took a deep breath before continuing. “In an effort to get him out of there, I shot my web at his chest, but lost control and balance, and sent him flying across the street as the explosives went off…”
Miguel could only stare from a distance, feeling the frustration in your words.
You halted and glared at him, lips quivering and more tears spilling. “Tom broke his arm and suffered a serious concussion. Because of me.”
He opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but decided not to interrupt.
“I grew up with Tom. He is — was my best friend,” you sniffled, lowering you gaze. “I even had feelings for him at one point, which was ridiculous… he was too good for me, anyway.”
Miguel took a few steps in your direction, wanting to convince you otherwise, but you immediately retreated away from him.
“Thankfully, he managed to fully recover. No one found out it had been me who caused it in the first place… everyone just assumed it happened because of the explosion…” you mumbled, before crossing your arms and hugging yourself, showing him you had done this multiple times before in search for comfort. “And I was a coward… I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth… so I removed myself from his life.”
A tense silence followed.
Nothing could have prepared Miguel for this revelation, and he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of sympathy for you wash down on him.
You then eyed him. “I don’t want your pity. I deserve this. I was never a decent spider-woman and-”
He quickly stopped you. “That is absolutely not true and you are not a coward.”
“Oh, but I am. When Jessica approached me with the offer to join you, I didn’t even think twice,” you confessed. “I’d do anything to spend as much time away from my dimension as possible.”
“You still perform your duties, as far as I know,” he pointed out rationally.
You let out a pained groan. “Because I have to! I’d much rather stay in the lab, piecing things together and be useful in other ways.”
“You could have told me.”
This time, you frowned and Miguel realised such expression didn’t suit you. At all.
“I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to. This is something I’m ashamed of.” You then pointed at his watch. “Your file won’t tell you any of this, and I really wish you hadn’t gotten involved, because this was my story to tell.”
Your words pierced through him like sharp knives, and he realised he had not only gone too far, but had also managed to hurt you in the process.
“If there is anyone here who understands what you are going through, it’s me,” he began carefully. “I know how it feels to want to do the right thing, only for the consequences to be disastrous.”
He watched your face soften ever so slightly, and you didn’t flinch away from him when he came to stand right in front of you.
“I’m really sorry that I overstepped the line,” he said softly. “I really care about you. That is the reason why I had the mic in your suit and why Jessica went looking for Tom.”
A half-truth, he figured. He couldn’t flat out say the actual reason. How would he even explain that he was obsessed with you? How could that justify any of this?
Simply put, it couldn’t.
And you would resent him.
So, he settled for a half-truth. He did care about you. Immensely. More than he could possibly reason with. But he just couldn’t have you know how much he wanted you to be with him to the point of extreme obsession.
Especially not after discovering this secret of yours.
He had to win you over.
“There is no one who can understand how hou feel better than me,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands, tilting it enough to have your eyes meet his.
“But… you’re the Miguel O’Hara… you’re so… ” your voiced trailed off.
“Spider Society exists because of my mistake. Many people died at my hands, even if it was unintentional,” said with a sigh. “That is a burden I’ll carry forever with me. What you see here came at a price.”
You swallowed.
“But you don’t have to go through this.”
“How so?”
He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. “You get a chance set things straight. Tom is still alive. I don’t get to have that.”
He would never have Gabriella back. Ever. That was the ultimate price he had to pay.
Your gaze dropped and he saw a couple of tears streaming down your face. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s not, but it’s still an open door. A choice you have.”
He felt your hands grip his wrists for support, as silence took over you.
“I just wish you’d told me,” he whispered, closing his eyes and planting a kiss to your forehead. “I would have been here for you sooner.”
The effect of his words coupled with the gesture were enough to have you break into a sob, tears streaming down your cheeks, as Miguel held your face with both hands.
This was painful to witness.
He knew all too well how it felt to feel powerless and thinking that you’ve run out of options.
He knew you now. He understood you. Better than anyone ever could.
“I’m… s-sorry…” you mumbled, trying to keep yourself from crying. “You’re… getting all w-wet…”
Miguel couldn’t help but to smile endearingly at your concern, as your tears began to roll down his hands.
“Do not apologise,” he said firmly. “You can cry. I’m here for you.”
Nodding, you opened your eyes again and tilted your had back to stare at him.
“Please s-stay…” you said in between sobs, your hands gripping him tightly. “Please…”
You were killing him.
Little by little.
Miguel would give you everything.
He nodded and you stepped back and let go of him, running the back of your hands across your cheeks to dry them.
Then you went to sit on your couch, removing the clutter of wires and boxes that were in the way.
Miguel spotted a blanket nearby and came to sit by your side, draping it over your shoulders.
You leaned against the backrest, and he followed suit, feeling your head drop to his shoulder.
“Please remove the mic… and delete that file…” you mumbled.
“I will.”
He swung his arm across your from you, to pull you closer to him.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and Miguel closed his eyes, relieved that he had managed to somehow control the damage he had caused. Unfortunately, it had come at the expense of you having to open up to him, and he felt guilty for that…
He knew he had to prove himself to you, and was grateful that you hadn’t chosen to shut him out completely.
“Somehow… this was sort of cathartic?” your voice was suddenly heard.
Miguel squeezed your arm tenderly.
“I had… never told this to anyone…”
Guilt hit him at once. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be… I think I needed to let it out,” you mused against him.
He couldn’t help but to feel an intense wave of compassion for you. There was no way around it: Miguel was in too deep when it came to you. Everything about you pulled him in and gripped him.
You would always be his sweet girl.
His devotion was yours.
Just yours.
“Hey, Miguel?”
He felt you shift beside him and he looked down to meet your sleepy eyes. “Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Your words didn’t register at first, and he thought he had misheard you.
“What?”
You slipped your feet under you, before leaning slowly into him, face drawing near. “Can I kiss you?”
Denial hit him. “You’re just sleepy.”
But you didn’t back down. “No… I just…” your eyes darted down. “Can I?”
His heart went into a frenzy and he was left speechless. Your eyes were set on his lips and he somehow found the strength to nod.
It took you a couple of seconds to adjust yourself, and once you did, you closed the the gap, parting your lips slightly.
Miguel was left perplexed.
Weeks of yearning and obsession were finally being vindicated.
“Pretty eyes,” you whispered, breath fanning his lips. “So pretty…”
Your noses brushed together and he fought the urge to pull you into his lap at once.
“You’re the pretty one…” he said truthfully.
A smile curved your lips even through your sleepiness. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miguel O’Hara…”
And you did.
The moment your lips met his, Miguel felt his body react. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush down to his cock, slowly stirring it.
He could taste the inexperience on your lips as you kept breaking the kiss to gasp for air. It was blatantly obvious you needed some help figuring out what do next, so he happily obliged.
With one hand he managed to shift your leg to swing across his, and with the other he propped you onto his lap.
You broke the kiss, adjusting yourself and lacing your arms behind his neck and taking his lips again.
This time, he pressed his thumb to your chin, parting your lips, so he could deepen the kiss with his tongue. You immediately complied, and allowed him in with a soft whimper.
Miguel finally tasted you.
His sweet girl.
You came down to press your crotch against his painfully hard cock, and he immediately had to still your hips and lift you slightly.
You broke the kiss again, confusion in your eyes. “What…”
He didn’t dare confess it to you.
Instead, he pressed on your lower back so you would lean into him again with a kiss.
He wanted to taste you, but he couldn’t have you sit on his cock like that… he would absolutely burst.
His sweet girl sounded so sweet and receptive…
He felt you trying to defy his hold on your hips, surely wanting that friction, but he couldn’t afford that.
As much as he wanted to feel you grinding on him, he would be too embarrassed to cum so soon, and that thought was what ultimately prevented him from reaching the point of no return.
He brought one hand to grip your wrist, allowing the top half of his digital suit to disintegrate, so he could place the palm of your hand on his chest, revelling in your heated skin against his.
Suddenly, you parted from him with a gasp. “Wait… I’m…”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion and watched as you snaked your arm in between you two, sliding your hand down your sweatpants.
Miguel’s eyes widened and he was about to lose it until he realised what was really happening.
You slowly removed your hand and glared at it. “Oh.”
Your fingers were drenched in your wetness.
You were soaked.
For him.
He carefully looped his fingers around your wrist, wanting to taste you, but that sent you into an immediate frenzy, and you fumbled to get up from his lap, nearly falling back if not for his incredible reflexes.
“Easy…” he cooed, caressing his thumb along your pulse point. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”
You tumbled to the side and he let go of you, watching you sit back against the cushioned backrest and looking startled like a deer in headlights.
Just how inexperienced were you?
“Thanks…” you mumbled, chest heaving erratically. “I’m… yeah… and sorry…”
Miguel sat up straighter and arched a brow. “You don’t have to apologise.”
You nodded, your eyes falling to his bulge. “I mean… for that…”
Only you would ever apologise for giving him a raging boner.
His sweet girl…
“Don’t worry,” he reassured, feeling his heartbeat slow down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes…”
He offered a warm smile. “Good.”
Miguel didn’t even know where to begin. He couldn’t quite grasp the events of tonight, and it almost felt like a fever dream.
He was so used to getting hard from just the thought of you, that he couldn’t believe he was now hard because of you.
Still, the way you had reacted when you realised how wet you were for him led him to believe that maybe you were far more inexperienced than he had anticipated.
And he would respectfully give you all the time and space.
He would wait for you to ask him for more.
He could wait. His throbbing cock not so much, but he had other ways of dealing with that.
“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, adjusting himself over his suit.
Your eyes widened. “Oh…”
“Just to ease some of the tension,” he immediately said.
He was desperate to let his cock spring free, and let it calm down until he was back at his apartment.
You then averted your gaze. “Can you… do it here?”
Miguel was utterly and completely taken aback.
“I… I have never…” you went on, quickly pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and covering your face. “Nevermind…”
Oh.
Now it all made sense.
“Hey… look at me,” Miguel started, reaching out to tug at your wrist. “It’s okay.”
Slowly, you lifted your head to peer at him with evident hesitation. “Is it too… weird?”
“Not at all.”
And he meant it. By this point, he could feel his cock twitching more often, as more and more precum began to drip from the tip.
“Are you sure?” he asked, needing the absolute confirmation.
You promptly nodded, resting your chin on your forearm, eyeing him intensely.
He paused for a moment, expecting to be jolted away from this dream, or to have you backtrack.
“Please…” you whispered.
Swallowing hard, he allowed himself to sink into the backrest, before having the lower half of his suit disintegrating, and his cock finally released from its confinements.
Your eyes widened and your lips parted.
An instant ego boost that caused him to hiss as he wrapped his fingers around it. His body was so ready for you. Almost too ready. It didn’t take long before Migue felt droplets of precum sliding down his hips.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and it only added to the pleasure he felt.
Giving himself a few tentative pumps, he watched closely as you glared at the motion, curiosity splattered all over your face.
The first moans escaped his lips and he nearly slid his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from cumming too quickly.
But he didn’t want to miss out on anything you had to offer.
Miguel soon found a steady rhythm and began to fuck his hands like so many times before. But unlike those other times, he had you as an audience and he knew he wouldn’t last long no matter how hard he tried to muster images of the Vulture to dwindle his impending orgasm.
Then, you shifted closer, your legs dropping, but still pressed together.
He groaned, knowing exactly why you were being so fidgety.
Your hand was clutching at the hem of your shirt as a way to anchor yourself from the visual stimulation.
“You can touch yourself…” Miguel rasped, tightening the grip around himself, precum now flowing down his knuckles.
You pressed your legs tighter together and Miguel had to halt his motion or he would burst.
“…. or not,” he added, not wanting to overstep your line of comfort.
Your eyes darted to his face momentarily and, for the second time, Miguel saw your hand disappear inside your pants. You gasped softly and he could only guess that you must have reached your clit.
You let out the sweetest whimper, and Miguel’s cock twitched immediately.
His chest heaved and he swiped his thumb across the tip of his cock, letting out a groan.
He watched in awe as your arm moved rhythmically, and your eyes fluttered shut.
“Look at me…” he breathed.
You were biting yout lip, but did what he asked.
The urge to replace you hand with his — better yet, his cock — was almost painful and he knew he was heading towards the precipice, having to space out his strokes.
Your gaze fell to his hand. “How’s it so hard?”
He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire and him being in need of release.
You scooted closer and closer, until your face was mere inches away, while still touching yourself.
For him.
Because of him.
“Why do you think?”
You gasped and he saw your hand slid out of your pants, fingers glistening with your wetness.
“Can… I?”
Miguel was too far gone to deny you of a newfound experience, so he nodded, bracing himself for what was about to happen.
He would burst.
You chewed on your lower lip as if unsure of what to do next, but he wanted you to take your time. A few moments later, you reached down with your soaked hand and he lets go of his cock, welcoming your touch.
He threw his head back and had to muster all of his willpower not to cum right away, as the pads of your fingers tentatively traced the underside of his cock, slowly moving to graze the veins that bulged from under the sensitive skin.
Everything inside him was suddenly burning like wildfire and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up.
By the time your thumb reached his tip and grazed slowly, Miguel hissed violently.
“Stop… stop - stop… please-” he begged, but was already being overtaken by the suffocating grip of a powerful orgasm.
You had indeed stopped touching him, but the damage had already been done.
His cock twitched rhythmically as hot spurts of cum began to cover his abs. Witch each roll of his hip, Miguel felt his vision blur and his fangs extend. He groaned your name a couple of times, before his words started to fuse together in a incoherent mess.
The stiffness of his peak shattered after a while and he slumped into the couch, struggling to even out his breathing.
Once he was finally able to open his eyes again, you came into his field of vision, holding a towel in your hands.
“Here,” you said as a smile broke across your face, before sitting by his side and offering it to him.
Even through the haze of an orgasm, Miguel was ablet o feel his heart skip a beat from your tenderness.
He proceeded to clean himself, wiping away the impressive amount of cum that had pooled on his lower abdomen.
“That was…”
His eyes were immediately on you. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off, allowing the not so subtle implication to dangle.
You didn’t catch it at first, but his silent was very telling.
“Oh, no — no, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a chuckle.
“It’s only fair that I return the favor…”
You shook your head more vehemently this time. “It wasn’t a favor to begin with, Miguel. I was curious and… just wanted to watch you do it,” you mumbled as his digital suit began to cover his body again. “I had never… yeah — I’m still…”
Miguel had his suspicions that you were inexperienced, but he had no ultimate proof of that.
But this… “You’ve never had sex before?”
You settled back on the couch, crossing your legs. “No.”
He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there even anything he should say?
So, he fell silent, waiting for you to take the lead.
“But… this was an interesting experience,” you eventually went on with a smile. “Do you… regret it?”
“No.”
But he could see doubt already settling on your face. “Maybe it was too much.”
“Not for me,” he said truthfully, straightening up in his seat. “Don’t think that, please.”
You nodded, but Miguel felt a pang of dread spread across his body. The last thing he wanted was for you to regret having opened up to him.
He had been longing for this for far too long to let it all be for nothing.
You were his sweet girl and you had his heart.
“Listen,” he started, set on preventing that from happening. “I can only speak for myself, but that was extremely hot. You are so, so attractive,” he went on, earning a doubting glare from you. “You are. I usually last longer than that.”
Your lips curled into an embarrassed smile, but Miguel could feel his words weren’t exactly reaching you.
Then silence took over.
You kept staring at your hands, head down and humming softly.
“Are you okay?” he shifted closer.
You took a deep breath. “I was thinking about your words earlier…”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He watched you closely. “And what are you thinking?”
“I think you’re right, Miguel,” you drawled out, your voice but a whisper. “I’ve been blaming myself for what happened to Tom for too long.”
A jab of compassion and empathy tugged at his heartstrings. “You’re absolutely right.”
Then, lifting your head, you met his eyes. “I think… I want to meet up with Tom again. Thank you for making me realise that, Miguel,” you finished with a sweet smile.
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Part 6
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Masterlist
7K notes · View notes
angelsforthenight · 2 months
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MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader
ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸
do not buy tlou2 remastered!
a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3
you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.
cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.
“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.
see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.
but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?
“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.
that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.
your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.
you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.
“found him yet?” abby sighs.
“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.
“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.
“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.
“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”
your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.
“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!
“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.
despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.
“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.
“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.
with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.
you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.
“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”
“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.
“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.
“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.
it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.
“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”
“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.
the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”
“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”
“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.
“jealousy? really? grow up.”
“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.
“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”
you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.
for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.
“can you slow down?” you glare at her.
“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.
“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”
“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”
abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.
“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.
“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.
“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.
“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.
“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.
“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“
“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.
“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”
“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.
“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.
“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.
“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.
“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.
“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.
you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.
“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.
“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.
“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.
you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.
abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.
desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.
“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.
“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.
“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.
“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.
once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.
“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.
“what?”
“just do it.”
you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.
“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.
you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”
“don’t piss me off.”
you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.
“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”
“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.
“what was that?”
“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.
“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.
“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.
“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.
“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.
see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.
another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.
“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.
“use your words.”
“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.
“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.
“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.
“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.
“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.
abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”
“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.
before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.
“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.
“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.
abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.
“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.
abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.
“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.
“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.
that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.
“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.
“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.
“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.
“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”
and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.
“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.
so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.
a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
Text
Boomerang (part 1)
Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader
Summary: When Vox proves incapable of cutting Valentino out of his sex life despite his many reassurances, you decide to break it off with him and leave for good. He doesn’t take it so well.
Just to be clear, reader is an artificial intelligence demon, looks super realistic and human-like, but is actually composed of nanotechnology. She was human once though, like all of the other sinners.
INSPIRED BY THIS POST
Part 2—> Chapter Index
"Y/n?" Charlie poked her head through your door. "There's uh, someone here to see you."
You narrowed your eyes, rising from your bed. A bone-weary sigh escaped you. It was obvious who your supposed "visitor" was. "Did you tell him I'm busy?"
Charlie pursed her lips, looking down. Great, so that meant he was throwing a temper tantrum. And she wanted you to sort him out.
"Alright, fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I'm coming." She was generous enough to let you stay, after all. The least you could do was clean up your messes.
When you finally reached the main floor, Vox and Alastor looked about two seconds away from clawing each other's faces off. Cyan blue electricity was sparking along Vox's entire body, and Alastor's shadows curled dangerously behind him, ready to attack at his call.
Seeing him made a hot fury like no other claw its way up your throat. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You growled lowly, balling your fists at your sides.
At the sound of your voice, Vox immediately broke away from Alastor, a giant smile spreading across his screen. "Sweetheart! There you are!"
You stormed up to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him harshly into a corner. You let go of him once you were sufficiently out of earshot of the others, crossing your arms and leveling him with a furious glare. "You have five seconds to explain yourself."
"Okay, let's just calm down for a second here," he chuckled, but it was an empty sound. "Is it really that weird for me to want to check up on you? After all, you kind of just disappeared," his smile strained.
"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you couldn't find me was because I don't want to see you?" You smiled sardonically, patience running thin.
"Uh, what?" He laughed, but his smile was frozen. "Why would you not want to see me?"
That was the last fucking straw. "Are you that fucking delusional, Vox?" You snapped, poking him harshly in the chest. "When I said I was done, I meant it. This," you gestured between the two of you. "Is over. I'm done."
Vox twitched, electricity sparking off sporadically from his antennae. He stared at you in stunned silence, his breathing starting to pick up speed as he processed your words. His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were being untruthful, and when he found none, he glanced up at the small crowd of residents and staff gathered, only to lock eyes with a smug Alastor.
Vox's screen glitched, his features twisting in a rage. "So you're replacing me with the radio fucker now, is that it?"
"Oh, really?" You narrowed your eyes. "Just like you replaced me with Valentino?"
"That's different," Vox gritted out.
"Is it?"
"Yes, for one, Val isn't some archaic cannibalistic fucker with a vendetta against me!"
"Who has the vendetta against who here? Cause it seems like you're the one who can't let things go." You watched him splutter on his bullshit for a few seconds before you shook your head in exasperation, the pounding pressure increasing at your temples. "Alright, that's it, we're done here. Get out."
"Y/n," he narrowed his eyes. "You need to think about this."
"Oh I've had plenty of time to think," you grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to bare your teeth menacingly. "Now get out before I put a goddamn virus in your software Vox!" Your face pixelated from rage at the end of your sentence. You let him go with a harsh shove.
For a long moment nobody spoke, a tense silence blanketing over the two of you. You glared at him venomously, chest still heaving from your outburst. And him, he was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. Good, you thought spitefully. It's finally getting through to him.
Vox's mouth hardened into a thin line, his sharp claws nearly drawing blood from his palms. "Why here?"
You closed your eyes. "It’s not a forever thing. I just—I need to be away from everything for a little while, okay?" Everything that we've built together. Reminders of you. "No flashy shit, no fast life, no technology—"
"You're an A.I. model," he said dully.
"Yeah well, you win some you lose some," you sighed, rubbing at your temples. "Look, I don't want to say it again. Leave Vox, I'm serious."
For a hot second, it looked like you were ripping his entire world apart and stomping on the broken pieces, the way he looked at you so lost, before he hastily pulled himself back together. "Fine," he spat out. It sounded like it physically hurt him to say it.
He lifted his chin, adjusted his lapels, and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door so hard it blew straight off of its hinges, blue sparks of electricity still sizzling from it.
For a few seconds, a thick tension suffocated the room, as everyone took the time to process the shit show they'd just witnessed.
"Well, that was fun!" Alastor's cheery voice punctuated the silence. You glared at him tiredly.
***
If you thought that he would give up like you so nicely asked, you were sadly mistaken.
Turned out it was just a pre-game warm up for this asshole.
At least thrice a week, he made sure to fuck up your peace somehow. Last time it was spray painting the entire hotel electric blue (how, you didn't even want to know). The time before that, it was trying to sneak some of his peeping gadgets in through the window. And the time before that, it was putting your name up on every billboard in the goddamn city with a red heart next to it.
Now, you stood incredulously in front of half of the hotel. As in, the other half was missing. Blown off by a fucking missile. You couldn't make this shit up if you tried.
"What the fuck is going on?" You gritted out, before taking a deep, calming breath.
Vox's electric laughter rang out from a speaker of unknown source. You turned angrily to face the open air.
"Pathetic," he jeered. "You still want to shack up with these losers, Y/n?"
You shook your head slowly, laughing in disbelief. "Wow," you said sarcastically. "You really showed us, didn't you? Feel better about yourself now?"
You punctuated your sentence with a glare, before turning and storming towards the remaining half of the building.
Vox watched you from twenty different angles across his screens. The moment you turned your back, his wide, toothy grin dropped, eyes squeezing shut. He slammed mute on his microphone.
“FUCK!” He banged a fist on the table, breathing heavily. It had been two weeks already, and you still hadn’t come back to him. He was getting desperate now.
A quick glance at the screen showed Alastor’s glitching picture. The radio bastard snapped his fingers with a raised brow, the missing half of the hotel repairing itself instantly.
“Fucking show off,” Vox growled raggedly.
He needed to change tactics. And fast.
***
Nothing. He had nothing.
No plans, no blueprints, no smart and suave moves to get you back.
Every scenario he ran through his head would inevitably end with you walking away from him. If only he could hypnotize you like with everyone else—but you were a tech demon, just like him. More advanced, even. Your firewalls were just too strong.
Vox poured himself another glass of scotch, solemnly glaring up at the ceiling in frustration.
A clawed hand clasped his shoulder, making him grit his teeth.
“You’re looking a little tense, Cariño,” Valentino purred, trailing his fingers up Vox’s neck. “I can help with that~”
Vox shrugged him off, annoyed. “Not in the mood, Val.”
But Valentino was undeterred. “Is this about Y/n?” He murmured, knowing he hit the nail on the head when the other demon tensed considerably. “What’s so special about that bitch anyway, hm? Is it the pussy? You know I’ve got whores lined up for you, baby. Just say the word and—”
“Fuck off, Val!” Vox exploded, electricity sparking in his eye. “I don’t want just any random bitch from the street, okay?! I want Y/n. I want her back,” he spat miserably.
Valentino went silent, his face twisting into a cruel expression. “Don’t you understand?” He growled. “She left you. Betrayed you. And she’s not coming back, ever. The sooner you see that and stop wasting your time, the better.”
He turned away, his heels clacking against the marble floors until the double doors swung closed behind him.
Vox let out a frustrated yell, arcs of electricity shooting out from him and shattering his expensive collection of drinking glasses to smithereens.
***
A tap sounded at your window, making you tense.
Slowly you approached it, generating a pistol from your nanotech and holding it tightly to your chest. You peered out of the blinds, only to find your ex dangling from the window sill.
“Holy shit!” You screeched, jumping back.
“A lil’ help?” he grinned lazily, reaching out for you. You grasped his hand, hauling him inside of your room.
The unmistakably pungent scent of alcohol invaded your senses, making your wrinkle your nose.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you drunk?” You dragged a hand down your face.
“No,” he hiccuped, shaking his head vehemently, which caused him to lose balance. You grabbed his shoulders, righting him before he fell and broke his screen.
“Oh yeah,” his face lit up in realization, before he reached behind him, pulling out a bouquet of slightly squashed roses. “For you,” he slurred, offering them proudly.
You looked at them in exasperation, before taking them gently from his hands. Bringing them up to your face, you closed your eyes, sniffing them slightly. A sweet floral scent filled your senses as you regarded them.
“They’re pretty,” you remarked quietly.
“Yeah,” he grinned, your eyes flickering up to catch his. “But you’re prettier.” At your lack of reaction, his grin faltered, and he looked down.
“I…” he started, swaying slightly. “I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “Don’t do this.”
“Please come home,” he continued, expression drooping sorrowfully. He clasped your hand, looking up at you pleadingly. “I’ll…I’ll do better, I promise.”
The ache in your heart grew almost unbearable the more you looked at him, so you averted your gaze. “Why don’t you ever say that when you’re sober?”
Vox let go of your hand, sliding down the wall until he landed on his ass. “Scared,” he mumbled.
You crouched down in front of him, lifting his hanging head from his arms. “Of what?” You said gently.
His eyes flickered up to yours, and the raw emotion nearly stole your breath away. “You still won’t want me.”
“Vox…” You closed your eyes, pained.
“Come home,” he whispered hollowly. “Please.”
“You know I can’t do that,” you said thickly, swallowing the lump in your throat.
He looked at you sadly, but resigned. “Yeah, I know,” he lowered his screen back into his arms. “…miss you,” he trailed off quietly, before soft whistling snores could be heard.
You dropped your face in your hands, breathing raggedly. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You had almost fucking caved.
After a moment to compose yourself, you searched his pockets, pulling out his phone (he didn’t even change his password) and dialing a familiar number.
“What the fuck do you want now, Vox?” An irritated feminine voice answered the line.
“Velvette,” you said cooly. “I need a favor.”
****
Part 2 —> Chapter Index
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months
Text
Just a little carried away...
Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader
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TW: MINORS DNI, PWP, SMUT(UNPROTECTED P IN V, THIGH RIDING, USE PROTECTION Y'ALL, ORAL M Receiving, FINGERING, CREAM PIE, CONSENSUAL NON CON- SEXUAL ACTIVITY YOU DIDN'T AGREE ON AT FIRST BUT YOU QUICKLY GIVE IN... PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND SKIP IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE THINGS ❤️ YOU. HAVE. BEEN. WARNED)
A/N: I'M SORRY Y'ALL. Based on this post I saw....dropping this and running away....I had to. 💀idk if this is any good or what but oh well. My next piece is angsty to give a little break in between filth but here's another pile of smut nobody asked for... Word count 1.3k
"Fuck...me..." Miguel breathes out as you unclip your bra, leaving your upper body bare for him as you sit in his lap. He puts both hands on your hips and moves you so you're straddling his thigh instead. He leans forward taking your breast in his mouth, while he gently tweaks the nipple of the other between his fingers.
"Shit..." You breathe out and start humping your clothed pussy against his thigh, loving the friction his leg is offering you.
Once he feels you grinding on him, his hands fly from your tits to your ass, squeezing and using it to maneuver you and grind you down harder on his thigh, causing you to let out a high pitched moan.
"Mmmm," you bite your lip, looking at Miguel through half lidded eyes. Miguel pulls the top of your leggings down so he can watch your pussy hump against him, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing barring his vision.
His lips fall open at the sight and he leans back and closes his eyes, but they snap open again when he feels you begin to hungrily kiss his neck, your fingers snaking themselves in his coffee colored locks.
He sucks in air between his teeth, letting out a loud moan which causes you to wet the spot you're riding on his thigh even more with your arousal.
"Fuck baby, fuck...." He whimpers, looking up at you. You feel so powerful over him in this moment, as you continue to move and roll your hips in his lap. Dangling what you know damn well both of you want in this moment above his head.
"Yes, baby....?" You tease with a breathy sigh, leaning back in to give him more wet kisses along his neck.
"I....mhnnn..." His voice is cut off by more moans that escape him as your hand moves to the bulge in his sweatpants.
"Yeah...?" Your tone is a little more desperate, your body begging for his cock.
"You're making it so hard not to fuck you..." Miguel gasps as you seize his hard cock through his clothes.
You pause and pull away from his neck for a moment and look at him, nothing but pure want is saturating his expression as he wets his lips.
Your eyes remain locked on him as you toy with his cock, causing him to grit his teeth as he can't bring himself to look away from you, either.
"So... fuck me then....baby..." Your voice lowers to a whisper as you free his cock from his pants, feeling the veiny rough texture in your hand. Your mouth waters as you gently get up, sinking to your knees and you begin running your tongue in circles around his sensitive tip which had already begun to drip in anticipation.
You moan as you taste him and nearly choke when he thrusts into the back of your throat, a sharp "Fuck" rolling off his tongue. He looks down at you, his expression absolutely drunk and desperate. "Baby...I wanna fuck you..." he says through clenched teeth.
"Do you have a condom, sweetheart?" You ask sweetly with a pause, looking up at him with your head still in his lap and his cock in your hand, painting your lips with his tip, planting a soft kiss into it as you remain fixated on him.
Miguel gulps, his large Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Fuck....No, I don't..."
You let out a little scoff and then rest your forehead on his bare leg, chuckling in exasperation.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me babyyy..." You look up at him.
"Maybe...just a little bit...let me put the tip in...?" he whispers, starting to play with your hair a little.
"Miguellll..." You shake and hang your head, and he brings his fingers underneath your chin to look up at him while he starts to pump his cock.
"Please, baby...do you trust me, I'll pull out....?" He whispers.
You look at how pretty his face looks right now as you're on your knees, utter desire lining his pupils. Ruby practically leaking out of his dazzling eyes.
"I promise baby, if you don't want to, I'll stop...." He assures you, pumping himself harder.
Those full lips of his fall open, his head cocking slightly to the side, and you feel your thighs clench.
"Fuck...okay baby...just the tip, swear?" You say, scrambling to stand up and strip your leggings and panties off so you're completely bare.
"Holy fuck...." Miguel is momentarily thrown off by your naked body but regains focus. "Yes baby, I swear..."
His hands eagerly rest on your hips and bob you over his erect tip. His lips are still parted as he gazes into your face, his jaw opening even more as the tip of his cock makes contact with your wet entrance, and watches the slight grimace on your face as he slowly splits you open.
"Baby..." you groan a little, eyes shutting as you feel the sensation of being stretched by his cock.
"I've got you baby..." Miguel pants. He bites his lip and looks down at his cock gently disappearing inside and bucks his hips a little higher without warning, causing his dick to penetrate you a little more, making you gasp in alarm.
"Baby! Too much!" Your nails dig into his shoulders and he mutters and grips your thighs tightly in response.
"Baby...that......oh my God...."
Miguel chuckles as he watches you give in and roll your head back and tug the hairs on the nape of his neck a little harder.
Miguel starts fucking you with half his dick pumping into you steadily. "Do you like this, baby?"
"Baby..." You whine, and Miguel leans forward and peppers kisses all across your chest, keeping his strokes agonizingly short.
"Fuck....oh jesus....nghhhhh...." you pant, starting to move your hips on your own, making Miguel sit back as you take the reins.
"Yeah, baby?" Miguel smirks and twitches his dick while inside you, reducing you to a whimper.
"I......need all of you, Mig..." you beg, the notion of protection and your conditions earlier long forgotten. His cock is tooooo fucking good.
Miguel groans a little. "Mmmmm yeah? You want the rest of my cock?"
"Pleaseee...." you answer.
"You sure, cutie?" He teases, knowing fully well what your answer will be. "What happened to just the tip..."
"It feels so good..." You whine, interrupting him. "More baby, baby please...."
Miguel inhales sharply. "Okay sweetheart...."
You sink the rest of the way down his length with his assistance. He rolls his hips up even further, making you fall forward at the sudden twinge of pain from him hitting your cervix.
He catches you and leans you on his shoulder, holding you in a bear hug as he continues to fuck you. "Got you, beautiful....you're doing great..."
You press your lips into his shoulder, as he continues to roughly fuck you in his lap.
"Fuck yeah....oh fuck....baby....yes, harder please...." You start to stutter in his ear, the sweat from his body starting to coat your chest.
He grants your request and groans as he starts thrusting at a quicker pace. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby..." he mumbles, holding you in place.
You take his cock over and over, your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you feel him pound you.
"Want you to cum in me..."
Miguel moans. "fffuck...baby I..."
"Cum in me...." You repeat firmly, your breaths starting to stagger along with his thrusts that are jolting you, causing your voice to shake.
-----
Hours later you've lost track of how many times he's cummed in you. You pant and stare at the ceiling after what feels like round 8, chest wet with sweat, your vision fuzzy.
Miguel's body, his cock, how good and dirty this night has been is the only thing on your mind.
He sits up a little and plants a kiss into your temple as his fingers make their way to your puffy, overstimulated pussy lips, gathering the dripping cum and stuffing it back inside, stroking the velvet of your walls, making you groan again.
"You wasting any?" He chuckles, leaning over to kiss you again.
"No, baby. Never..."
"That's my girl..."
----
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suiana · 3 months
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(yandere! fictional character x gn! cosplayer reader) (reader is refuses to acknowledge yan and where he originally came from 💀)
"that's a nice cosplay! where'd you get that wig from?"
"this is not a wig."
"what?"
he tugs at his hair harshly, bending down slightly so you can see his roots. you stare in shock, eyes wide open as you marvel in delight. woah! his cosplay was so realistic!
"see? not a wig."
"oh... nice dye job then!"
"this is my natural hair."
he retorts, standing back upright as you maintain eye contact with him. you tear your gaze away from him, taking in his body and features as you tilt your head at him slightly. huh... now that you're actually looking at him... his cosplay looks a little too realistic... there's no way..?
"you're so cool! you're like, that one character from that one anime i really love-"
"maybe cause i am? i'm here to see you actually...."
you shake your head at him, wagging a finger as you chuckle slightly. it was such a sight for everyone to see. a "delusional" cosplayer and a cosplayer who rejects everything that said delusional cosplayer said.
"haha! you're so in character! if i were a little more dumb i would've believed you!"
you then pat him on the back before waving goodbye at him. the convention was still on-going and you had lots left to do! you must bid farewell to him even if you wanted to chat more. what an interesting fella he is! does he really think he's a fictional character that came into your world just to see you?
"see ya! hope you enjoy the rest of the con! wait, can i have a pic first though?"
you hold your phone, looking up at him expectantly. his beautiful features stare down at you before he sighs, nodding as he poses for the camera.
you cheer, getting your phone in position before flinching as you feel him stand way too close for comfort. ah well... it's only for a while anyways. you'll just let this one pass...
"thank you! see ya!"
you then skip away, wanting to enjoy the rest of the con as you leave the mysterious cosplayer all alone. what a funny guy! he was so in character and he said he was here for you! how cute!
unfortunately it was not cute at all for him.
damn it, he thinks. he grits his teeth as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration. you're just so... infuriating at times. how could he make you believe that he's real?
and that's when it hit him. he could just kill everyone in this convention until you acknowledge him! what a wonderful idea! he then stretches, warming up his body as he grins to himself.
he can't wait to see that look on your face when you realize that he's the real deal!
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igotanidea · 3 months
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Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1: Too much
part 2 : Not enough
***
„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”
Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.
“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”
“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.
“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.
“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”
“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—
“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.
‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”
“Worked just as planned though.”
“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.” 
“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.
“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”
“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“
“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”
Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.
‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.
„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.
„I beg your pardon, what now?”
‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.
„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”
„But--”
„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”
„I beg your pardon?”
„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”
„You truly do not  disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”
„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”
„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.
„Actually if the viscount is around --”
„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.
„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”
„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”
***
While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.
 “Are you spying on her now?”
“I’m not spying!”
“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“
“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.
he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather  a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.
Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.
“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head
“She would never.”
“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”
“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.
***
„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”
„I believe--”
„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”
„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing  „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”
„I beg your-”
„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”
„I am not--”
„Lady Featherington.”
The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.
„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”
„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”
„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”
„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”
„I--”
„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.
„I didn’t need you to save me.”
„such a shame I happened to be around then.”
„My undoing indeed.”
„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.
***
„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.
„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”
„You cannot trick me sister.”
„Anthony is an idiot.”
„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”
Eloise smirked as they continued their following.
She and Benedict always understood each other without words.
Edit: part 4 Stuck
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
Note
How does Vox angst sound? Something where the reader has to take care of an injured Vox?
I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex —
1.5k words,, Vox x reader
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summary — After a bad fight with Valentino, Vox seeks comfort in his bootycall, you.
warnings — Toxic relationships, abuse, manipulation, Vox being a dick, Valentino is his own warning, hurt/comfort
a/n — I think I went way too ham on this one. The request was “Vox angst” not a poorly written shakespeare play.
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You weren’t expecting anyone that night, let alone your self proclaimed bootycall, Vox. The knock at your door was surprising on its own, but your amazement only grew when you opened it.
“Are you going to let me in—ozzz—or are you just going to st—aa—are?” He spoke through gritted teeth and with effort.
“Vox,” you place your hand on his shoulder and usher him in, “what the hell happened to you?”
Already familiar with your apartment, he flips down on the couch almost immediately and leans in head back.
Under the dim lighting of your one singular lamp, you take him in; screen cracked at the right corner, shirt disheveled, and from what you could see in his face, eyes tired and sunken.
“Oh not much—chh—“ He sighed, glitching slightly, “—just a peachy day in the park.”
You didn’t know what to do. Vox was no picnic, unfortunately, you knew that better than most. But you vaguely wonder what could have provoked this?
Vox was a smooth talker, he usually didn’t fail to charm people and kiss ass to get what he wanted. You doubt Alastor had time to cause that kind of damage these days, not to mention the interest.
So the one culprit for the mess that sat in front of you had to be… oh.
“Jesus. How’d you piss him off this time?” You genuinely ask, coming over to accompany Vox on the couch.
“Well—bzz— he’s always pissed about something. Today’s tantrum had nothing to do with the likes of—mhh—me,” Vox sighed deeply and winced as he sat up.
“Why, do you like the new look?” Coming from anyone else, the comment would have been an attempt to lighten the mood. However, Vox only meant to condescend the baffled look in your eyes.
‘Why are you just sitting there? Help me,’ his eyes, well, what’s left of his eyes said.
You sigh and get up, stopping to stare down at him one last time, “So, what do we need to fix this?” 
He contemplated for a moment, “Well, I got the hell out of dodge before I had the chance to grab a spare—szc—screen so—“ he pointed to the area around his face, “anything to stop my fucking face from chipping off would be great.”
“So, like what? Fucking ducktape?” your attempt at a joke fell flat when the expression on his face didn’t move. 
He simply grimaced. 
You frown and look longingly towards your kitchen, “I’ll see what I have.”
You end up settling for ducktape after all. A purely comical solution to what can only be described as a miserable situation.
You patched him up gently, your hand resting on the bottom of his screen and covering the chipped part, as delicately as possible, with ducktape.
“You know, it would be kind of funny. The ducktape, I mean,” you try to smile, “…but it’s not funny.”
For once in his entire existence, it seemed Vox had nothing to say. No smart-ass remarks or egotistical words fell from his mouth. Only quiet silence as he breathed shakily in and out.
You couldn’t help but analyze his actions in your head. He must be getting sick of it, being treated like garbage by Val, by Alastor, by everyone who should respect him.
Except Vox’s empire, his power, any of it couldn’t help in this regard. Valentino was apart of his life in hell, and quietly it was dawning on Vox that even he couldn’t talk his way out of this.
Not entirely anyway. They needed eachother in some sick sense. Vox knew this, and now it seemed so did you.
Your heart ached for the man. In all of his terrible ways he seemed to be finding that cruelty was a double sided sword. Except this time, he got stabbed straight through.
You finished patching him up in silence, before leaning down and placing a kiss on the top, undamaged side of screen.
Your thumb caressed the area of his cheek softly. He shut his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch, frowning deeply.
You sit down next to him once again. “You’re staying with me tonight, okay?”
He nodded weakly, partly because he didn’t want to upset his head injury. But also partially to show you how vulnerable he felt at the moment. Although an upsettingly subtle que, he gazed up at you in hopes you would just take care of him without him having to ask.
Thankfully you catch on. You guide him up from the couch and rub his back gently while leading him to the bedroom and sitting him down.
“I have some t-shirts and sweatpants in the closet. I’m gonna go get you some water,” you say, soothingly rubbing his back before leaving.
When you come back, he already changed into comfier clothing and set his work clothes on a chair near your bed, in order to not wrinkle them.
He lays curled up on the bed with his eyes open, looking as if he was about to cry. You cringe at the thought. You’d been awkward enough tonight, Vox crying did not need to add to that.
You come over to him with the iced cold cup, sit him up right, and place it in his hands.
“Drink,” you command. He does, without hesitation. Jesus, you think, Vox taking orders. Thats new. 
After downing the whole glass in one large swig, he sets it on the bed side table. 
“He threw a f—fff—ucking wine bottle at me,” Vox said glumly.
You were just happy he was talking again. You cuddle up close to him on the bed, taking him under your arm, trying not to mind the less than ideal way the corner of Vox’s screen poked into your jaw. Oh well, Vox seemed comfortable enough.
He curled closer to you, sinking into your side and shutting his eyes, but not with the intention of falling asleep.
“I’m sorry. He’s such a douchebag,” And what? Vox isn’t? Your inability to comfort him was weighing unbareabley on your mind. Do better.
“But you’re safe now, sweetheart,” you pull him closer to you under the blankets, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
Vox hummed, the sides of his mouth flickering down as the lump in his throat grew tighter. 
You kept going, “You handled it so well. You get to relax now, okay? Nothing bad’s gonna happen under my watch.”
It was stupid, Vox thought. He was an overlord, a powerful one at that. Protection was below him. But so was getting fucked up by his angry boyfriend and running off to his side pieces apartment, so who knows?
In hindsight, it was his fault. He was sloppy in his ways of manipulation tonight and Val had caught onto him. Well, in a figurative and literal sense, he supposed.
Oh, how the powerful fall at the feet of those closest to them. Serves him right.
He knows you aren’t stupid. You knew what he said earlier about how Val’s ‘tantrum had nothing to do with the likes of him’ was a lie.
And yet, here you were helping him. Vox couldn’t wrap his head around it. Just as he couldn’t understand why you continued spewing such comforting words.
Words that, if you asked anyone else, he didn’t deserve. He stopped himself from dwelling on it when he felt the tears brew in the corner of his eyes.
“I’m proud of you, Vox,” you speak softly.
He burrows his screen in your chest. “No, you’re not,” he whispers, grasping onto your shirt softly, “And I thought I was the—spzz— the liar.”
“I’m not lying. It takes a lot to survive that crazy ass moth. Let alone, everyday. I am proud of you,” you plant a kiss on the top of his head.
That was the breaking point. Vox tried to justify his tears in his mind; It’s not like he hadn’t already been embarrassingly vulnerable tonight, anyways. Could it get much worse? 
For you, maybe. As the waterworks flowed, you shushed him softly and rubbed his back. Honestly, you were a little worried about the tears fucking up his system, because of all the cracks in his head.
Thankfully, you didn’t notice any changes, basic bodily function-wise.
You found Vox’s outburst of tears specifically alarming. He muttered little apologies throughout. However, it seemed less and less about the tears themselves.
He clung to you and his the remains of his face in your shirt, hoping you wouldn’t get pissed off at the wetness around your collar.
You let him cry, and shush him with small gentle words of praise. He looks up at you, screen slick and shiny. You lean down to give him a watery, but gentle kiss.
The sad part, you think to yourself, is that you know exactly what’s going to happen tomorrow.
Things will go back to normal, Vox’s walls will come back up as if this never happened, and he’ll continue seeing Valentino. He’ll act as if he never confided in you, and once again, you two will only be an occasional good-fuck.
There was no lesson in any of this. Almost as if the whole experience was completely futile. Nothing would change, and Vox and Val would continue in their toxic, horny, power struggle. Vox using Val to his advantage, Val getting pissed off and fucking him up. 
What did you expect? Well, you’d just about accepted this fact when Vox, half asleep, all cried out, and sleepily drooling on your shirt, muttered three small words.
“I love you.” 
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a/n — link to part two is here
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months
Text
Meet Me In the Afterglow
Pairing: Peeta Mellark X Reader
Synopsis: you’re the one who gets taken by the Capital and Peeta isn’t used to who you are when you return
Masterlist
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The day finally came when you and the others taken by the Capital were brought to District 13. Peeta raced down to the infirmary as soon as he heard you were back and bumped into Haymitch.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you. Are they back?” Peeta asked.
“They’re back. But before you go in there-“
“Where is she?” Peeta cut him off and jumped in excitement. Haymitch did not share in his excitement and kept a stone cold face as he stared at Peeta.
“Kid, there’s something you should know.” Haymitch said. Peeta’s smile dropped and he felt himself get sick to his stomach.
“No.” He croaked out. “They said they found her alive.”
“No, not that. She’s not dead.” Haymitch said with a frustrated sigh.
“Well then is she hurt?”
“She’s not hurt. She’s just…she’s not doing well, okay? We’re not exactly sure what the Capital did to her but she’s not herself. I think you should give her a few days before you see her. Just until we figure out what’s going on and if it’s permanent.”
“Permanent?” Peeta repeated. “What happened to her? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Why don’t you go get something to eat and we can discuss it later?” Haymitch said and patted Peeta’s shoulder.
“No. I’m not waiting a few days to see her. I’ve waited 8 weeks. I need to see her now.” Peeta stated and pushed past Haymitch.
“Peeta.” Haymitch said warningly. Peeta ran through the infirmity and looked around for you. He made eye contact with Finnick, who solumly pointed to a room with the curtains drawn. Peeta nodded and swiftly made his way to the room. He burst inside with a huge smile and sighed in relief when he saw you sitting on a medical table with your back to him.
“You’re here.” He said breathlessly. You tensed when you heard his voice and slowly turned to face Peeta. Under the harsh florescent lighting, Peeta could see the extent of your physical injuries.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He said softly as he slowly circled around you. Your emaciated face was covered in bruises in every stage of healing. Your bloodshot eyes stared into his with an ice cold store. Peeta covered his mouth with one hand and reached for you with the other.
“What did they do to my girl?” He whispered and tried to touch your face. You smacked his hand away and as he reacted, you lunged for his neck. You slammed Peeta into a glass cabinet before throwing him onto the floor.
“What are you doing? It’s me!” He protested when you climbed on top of him.
“I know.” You said through gritted teeth and tried to strangle him again. You were quickly sedated and pulled off of him, but not before Peeta caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes. Even though he had known you for years, he didn’t recognize who he saw now. One of the attendants picked Peeta off the ground and quickly ushered him out of the room. He turned his head to look at you before the attendant pushed him out and saw you being strapped to a table. He tried to fight the people pulling him to go help you but they overpowered him. Peeta was quickly taken out of the infirmary and brought back to where Haymitch was.
“What was that? What’s wrong with her?” Peeta asked desperately. Haymitch rubbed his eyes and let out a loud sigh.
“We’re not entirely sure. The doctor said it’s called hijacking. The Capital showed her real memories and altered memories to confuse her. And they somehow made her believe that you are trying to kill her. She doesn’t know what’s real right now. Thats why I wanted you to wait.”
“Kill her? I love her. She knows that. I told her.” Peeta said through a shaky voice.
“She doesn’t know anything anymore. They completely rewired her mind. For all we know, she fully believes we’re all out to get her and the Capital is the only people she can trust.” Haymitch told him.
“What? She would never think that. How could they possibly get her to believe that?”
“They tortured her. Everyday. For 8 weeks. That’s how.”
“I told you to get her out. I told you to save her over me. You promised.” Peeta shouted at him as his sadness melted into rage.
“Getting angry at me isn’t going to fix this.” Haymitch warned. “If we want her back, we need to work with her. That means going in there and trying to remind her what’s real and what’s not.”
Peeta calmed and nodded his head. He didn’t understand what was happening so he put his trust in what Haymitch said would bring you back. The medical attendants induced you in a coma for a few days while your injuries healed and Peeta stayed with you the whole time. Even though you were unconscious and didn’t know he was there, he stayed and held your hand all day. He felt tremendous guilt for leaving you behind the first time so he wasn’t gonna leave you again. When you finally woke after a couple days, they brought Peeta to your room.
“Is this a good idea? She tried to kill me last time.” Peeta asked Haymitch.
“She’s strapped to the bed. And there will be a guard in there with you. She can’t hurt you.” Haynitch assured him.
“Okay.” Peeta nodded. The attendant opened your door for him and Peeta walked inside. When you made eye contact, you tugged on your worst restraints in an attempt to get away from Peeta. Peeta noticed this and as much as it hurt him, he didn’t mention it.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He said kindly but kept his distance.
“Why do you think you get to call me that?” You replied coldly.
“I don’t really know. I guess I’m just trying to get back to something familiar. I used to call you that in the arena sometimes. You didn’t really like it then either.” He said with a half hearted laugh. You didn’t return the laugh and instead turned your attention back to your TV. Peeta followed your gaze and realize you were watching his first interview with Cesar Flickerman.
“My interview?” He asked in surprised. You were surprised as well and looked at him skeptically.
“You remember this?”
“Yeah. That was the first time I told you I liked you. I just wish I didn’t make it so public. I should’ve told you how I felt way before the reaping. You didn’t deserve to find out that way.” Peeta said with regret as he stared at himself from a year ago on the screen. You’d been struggling to pinpoint which memories were real so to have him confirm that what he said in his interview was real made you feel slightly better.
“I wish you had told me privately too.” You said quietly.
“You do?” Peeta smiled with just an ounce of hope as he looked at you.
“Yeah. Because then Snow wouldn’t have tortured me just to hurt you.” You snapped. Peeta’s hope disappeared and he nodded in understanding.
“He tortured you because he knows I love you. Everyone knows. I was never shy about it.” Peeta said without looking at you.
“You’re just a mutt.” You sneered. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone.”
“That’s not true. I do love you. I always have.” Peeta said calmly. When you didn’t get the reaction you wanted from him, you disengaged.
“I watched the other interview too. From before the second games.” You said instead.
“What did you think?”
“I don’t know. Are we really married?”
“No.” Peeta shook his head. You looked confused and a little panicked to hear his answer.
“But I remember you proposing. That memory was fake?” You asked, sounding vulnerable now instead of cold. Peeta realized you were just desperate to find a few real memories to hold on to for your sanity.
“The memory was real because we staged a fake proposal for the cameras. We were never actually engaged. Or, I guess we were. But not because we wanted to be. It was a fake engagement for Snow.” He said with a tight smile.
“So there’s no baby either?”
“No. No baby. We never…” He trailed off and blushed all the way to his ears. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and then laughed meanly.
“Really? Never?”
“No.” Peeta said quietly and felt his whole face go red now.
“Wow. Whats the matter? Lover boy was too shy to get it up? Or were you just too busy making it known to everyone about how much you love me to actually take me like a man?” You asked with a condescending pout. Peeta blinked in surprise at how mean you were being and tried to remember that it wasn’t really you. It was whatever the Capital had done to you.
“That’s not nice.” He said quietly.
“Nice? I’ve been tortured everyday for the last 8 weeks because of you. So I’m sorry if I’m not nice anymore.” Your voice gradually got louder and by the end of your sentence, you tried to lunge for his neck again. Yoru restraints held you back but Peeta never flinched.
“Why aren’t you scared of me?” You genuinely wondered as you sank back into your bed.
“Because I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Yes I would.” You scoffed.
“Okay.” Peeta shrugged and walked over to your bed. You watched him closely as he undid the restraints on both your arms.
“Hurt me, then.” He said simply. Your eyes darkened and you raised your fist to swing at him, then lowered it.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” You asked quietly.
“You didn’t swing.”
“Not now. Yesterday. When I attacked you. You’re twice my size. I’ve seen you throw bags of flour one your head. I know you’re strong. You could’ve easily overpowered me. Why didn’t you?”
“Because I’d never hurt you.” Peeta stated. “Ever. I couldn’t.”
“Snow said you would. He said you’d sell me out in a second to save your own life.”
“Well that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d do anything to keep you safe. Ask Haymitch. I nearly killed him when he first told me he didn’t get you out of the arena. We had a deal that he’d save you before me.”
“Why would you make that deal?” You asked skeptically.
“Because I’d rather die than lose you.” Peeta said simply.
“Why?”
“I have nothing if I don’t have you. No one else I care about.”
“But I thought we weren’t actually together? You said it was just for the cameras.”
“We weren’t together. But I’ve loved you since I was a kid.”
“That’s just puppy love. A childhood crush doesn’t equate to love.” You pointed out.
“It was a crush at first.” He agreed. ���But then I got to really know you. We became really close during training for the first games. You probably don’t remember that.”
“I do.” You admitted.
“You do?”
“On the train. We used to talk on the rooftop.” You recalled and Peeta could see the faintest trace of a smile.
“Yeah. We did.” He smiled too.
“That was before you became a soulless mutt who’s trying to get everyone in the districts killed in this rebellion.” You switched up on him and returned to your vengeful state.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do. All I care about is getting you back to normal.” Peeta told you. Something in your eyes changed and for a second, Peeta could see the real you. You looked scared and confused and most of all, trapped. Your eyes went back to your cold stare and you leaned towards him.
“Get out. Get out before I hurt you.”
“I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not gonna do that.” Peeta insisted.
“I don’t want you here. GET OUT.” You screamed at him and threw a pillow. The attendant burst in and ushered Peeta out of the room before he had a chance to react. He watched you thrashing in your bed through the window and wondered why you chose to throw a pillow and not your fists.
After another week in extensive therapy, your doctor deemed you fit to interact with the rest of the district in short increments. You were allowed into the food hall and stuck close by Johanna for a sense of familiarity. She helped you get some food and then brought you over to the table were Gale, Finnick, Annie, and Peeta were sitting. Peeta smiled in surprise when he saw you sit down but you didn’t smile back. You didn’t say anything the whole time you were sitting until Finnick and Annie got up to leave.
“Careful, Annie. If you don’t treat him right, I might try to steal him from you.” You said jokingly. No one took it as a joke because no one knew that it was one. You’d been quiet ever since being brought home minus the spiteful remark every now and then. So your joke fell flat but you weren’t looking for laughs anyway. You said it to get a rise out of Peeta and it worked because his face burned red with jealousy.
“Why would you say that?” He asked you.
“Why do you care?” You shrugged. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
“She’s right. You’re not.” Gale added. You narrowed your eyes at him when you heard this and then checked on Peeta. You could be mean to Peeta but you didn’t want anyone else to be.
“You should watch what you say to me right now.” Peeta said lowly as he glared at Gale. You smiled in delight over the drama you caused.
“Why? Give it up already. She didn’t want you before all this shit went down. Do you honestly think there’s any chance she’ll want you now? Her brain is fried. She punched a mirror this morning because she didn’t recognize her reflection. She’s just a vegetable. Let her go.” Gale said, making your smile drop. You had been told Gale was a close friend of yours so to hear him talk about you with zero regard for your feelings made you sad.
“Maybe that’s how you feel but it’s not how I feel. I know she’s in there. And I’ve loved her for years so no, I’m not just going to let her go.“ Peeta snapped and got up from the table. He was about to walk away when he turned to Gale one last time.
“She would’ve never given up on you if you were the one the Capital took.” He reminded Gale.
“I know that.” Gale said quietly with guilt in his eyes. With that, Peeta left the food hall and went to his room. He laid on his bed for a few hours and got deep into his thoughts. He went down for dinner that night and was actually relieved that he didn’t see you anywhere. When he returned to his room, you were sitting on his bed.
“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.” He said awkwardly and stayed by the door. You had Peeta’s sketchbook open on your lap and tears in your eyes. Every page was filled with drawing after drawing of you that Peeta had made. Peeta blushed in embarrassment when he realized what you were looking at. He was even more embarrassed when you found the one he had drawn of you that morning.
“Did I love you?” You asked as you looked up at him.
“What?”
“I know you loved me, but did I love you?” You repeated. Your tone was gentle this time so he didn’t correct you for using love in the past tense.
“Honestly, I was really sure.” He admitted. “I don’t think you knew either.”
“But did it seem like I was?”
“When cameras were on us, yes. And sometimes when it was just you and me. Those were my favorite moments, actually. The ones that were just between us. I felt more love in our private conversations than in our public confessions.” He told you. You nodded as if that’s exactly what you thought he would say. You flipped through a few more drawings and touched one that was of the two of you.
“I’m sorry I was mean to you.” You said quietly. Peeta couldn’t help but laugh at that and felt himself relax.
“What?” You wondered.
“Sorry. It’s just so you to call throwing me into a glass cabinet “mean”.”
“That’s something I would say?” You smiled slightly and allowed yourself some hope.
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “You’re very smart but you have a way of getting that across in as few words as possible.”
“That’s good I guess. That I sound like me.”
“It is good. I means you’re still in there somewhere.” He smiled softly. You stared at him for a moment and then patted the space next to you. Peeta practically ran to sit next to you on the bed and gave you his full attention.
“I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake. But I’m realizing that the altered memories have this shiny film over them. My real ones don’t.”
“What’s in the shiny memories?” He asked you.
“You hurting me. Leading the careers to me in the first games. Abandoning me in the area as it burnt down. Throwing bread at me.”
“That last one’s real. That was to feed you.”
“Oh. Thank you, then. For that.” You said stiffly.
“You’re very welcome. So how many real memories have you figured out?”
“I remember making a book with you.”
“Yes.” He smiled in surprise. “We made a book about all the plants in district 12. That was when you hurt your ankle.”
“Because I always hopped over the fence instead of crawling under.” You recalled, making Peeta’s smile grow.
“That’s right! You did. I never understood why.”
“It was a few seconds faster and I got less dirt on my pants. My mom wouldn’t have to wash them as much so I told myself I was less of a burden if I jumped over instead of go under.” You said without even thinking about it. You didn’t realized you had that memory in you and smiled when you heard it come out of your mouth.
“That’s good. Thats a solid memory.”Peeta encouraged you.
“I remember you taking care of me when I had to stay off my foot. And feeing me that weird soup.”
“The hazelnut soup.” He chuckled. “I never liked it either. I’m pretty sure I was feeding you that because my mother made it and I didn’t want it.”
You cracked up laughing at how honest he was. Peeta laughed as well, then felt himself tear up.
“I haven’t heard your laugh in over a month.” He said in a wavering voice.
“Me either.” You realized. You were both quiet for a moment and avoided making eye contact as you stared down at his sketchbook.
“I’m scared I’m never gonna get back to who I was.” You said quietly.
“I’m honestly scared of that too.” Peeta admitted. To his surprise, you smiled a little at his answer. You expected him to lie to you and give you the same sugar coated answers the medical attendants had been giving you about what your future held, but Peeta didn’t do that.
“You know what’s been making it hard to decipher what’s real?” You asked him.
“What?”
“If these memories of you and me are real, I don’t understand why I wasn’t in love with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean half my memories of you, the ones they didn’t alter, are just you existing. I have memories of you sitting. Or looking out a window. Or focused on your eyelashes or hands or crooked smile. We’re not even interacting in some of them. I guess I was just always looking at you. Always memorizing you. And they couldn’t touch those memories. They didn’t know they were in there.”
“Neither did it.” Peeta said in a soft voice. You looked into his eyes and this time, he saw someone he recognized.
And you did too.
Peeta taglist 🥖
@ilovetoomanymen
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monicahar · 1 year
Text
“how much do you love me?”
in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.
characters; scaramouche, cyno, tighnari, alhaitham, kaveh
; gn! reader, fluff, crack, uh, idk just sumeru men sexy. first time writing kaveh too!
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SCARAMOUCHE stares at you. boredly. unamusedly. unimpressed. er, disappointed even. he's having trouble deciding if he should ignore you or not for deciding to distract him from his paperwork. he decides the latter with a sigh. “do you want me to be brutally honest?” brutally honest? is he hinting at some implication that he doesn't actually love you?! what the hell? with gritted teeth and a newfound insecurity, you nod with uncertainty.
“go for it.”
a smirk creeps on his lips as a dark expression etches itself on his face, staring at you with a level of seriousness. “i'd brawl with celestia for you.” his hands find yours, clasping it tightly in his as he breathes a vow—a promise, even. “if you were somehow taken away from me, even i am quite unsure of what kind of being i'd become.”
ah...you sweatdrop at the dedication he's willing to offer. he sounded a bit scary, borderline creepy but it's just scaramouche being your sweetie pie, haha! nothing new, am i right? anyway, he does seem to love you quite a bit—you're unsure if you should be relieved or not.
his other arm lazily warps around your shoulder as he presses his cheek against yours, his eyes shutting in content at the warmth of your skin. “but then again, there are times where i just kinda wish to throw you off a cliff. you can be quite annoying sometimes, darling. ”
“you—!” he rudely cuts you off with a press of his lips against yours, effectively shutting you up.
CYNO ponders the question for a bit too long—you're afraid that he might've taken the question a bit too seriously. he could've just said something bland and cheesy like “more than anything” and you still would've swooned like a teenage girl. after all, who wouldn't? the general mahamantra—well, if people weren't so busy fearing him, they probably would've been admiring his pretty face instead.
“i love you a lot, that's for sure. though i'm not quite sure how to measure it...”
oh, dear cyno. your heart clenches at his thoughtful words. “haha, i thought you were trying to find a joke to go along with my question or something.”
“why would i do that? my love for your isn't something to laugh about,” he pauses, eyes flickering towards you for a moment, a glint you know all too well present in his eyes.
“though,” he starts with a small grin, “if you want to hear a joke or two, i've got the ones just for you.”
it's plural?! oh no. D:
TIGHNARI doesn't peel his eyes away from the research paper before him, nonchalantly replying in a heartbeat—“i love you enough to date you, apparently.”
you outwardly huff at his boring answer, staring at the ceiling boredly as you lie in his bed. tighnari isn't quite the charmer, you guess. but then again, you probably wouldn't have dated him if he wasn't being his sassy self. “is that so.” your tone comes out more disappointed than you intended.
unbeknownst to you, his ear twitches at the lack of enthusiasm in your tone. his gaze finally removing itself from the papers in his desk to look at you from over his shoulder. he sees you staring at the ceiling, sprawled out all over his bead while humming a random tune out of boredom.
“you didn't get the meaning behind my words, did you?”
your head turns to him in utter confusion, your gaze meeting his unamused expression. “huh?”
a sigh leaves his lips as he turns back to his desk, resuming his paperwork as your gaze burns into his back.
thinking he had dismissed the subject completely, you pout at the lack of explanation, opening your mouth to ask what he meant before he abruptly cuts you off with another twitch of his ears.
“fennec foxes mate for life.” he says as a matter of factly.
oh. :o
ALHAITHAM peers at you with a raised brow. “are you asking for an exact estimation or?” this dude you swear—
“it's not like you can calculate love, dummy.” you slap his arm lightly as you huff out a laugh at his words, “i'm simply asking for a metaphor. or at least, what's the most you'd do for me out of pure love.”
“care to give an example?”
you press a finger to your chin as you walk beside him, “hmm...i love you enough that i'd give up my position in the akademiya if it meant to spend more time you!”
“that sounds unreasonable.” he replies without hesitation, a concerned frown forming on his face. “you should work on your time management instead of giving up your studies—”
“i-it's just a reference for what i would do for you, calm down...”
“i can assist you. i'll help you make a schedule right now if you want to.” he whips out a piece of paper and a pen from nowhere, surprising you greatly. where'd he get that from?! “here, you wake up at around 7 am, right? give your studies about 8 hours of your day—the average time a scholar needs, then you can spend about 4 to 6 hours with me daily without problem. in our time together we could go out and eat, maybe even do your homework so you could add an extra hour with me if so—”
sadly, you never got an answer. :(
KAVEH immediately goes “i love you more than anything in the world!” yes, it's bland and cheesy like i mentioned earlier. and yes, he's going to be proud of it too. extra points for the confidence(?)
would definitely press kisses onto your face afterwards, hugging you tightly in his arms. “ahh, you're so cute that it's impossible that i'd choose anything else over you.”
“is that so?” you ask innocently as you tilt your head, staring into his eyes. “would that mean you'll finally join me in the upcoming event that alhaitham will be co-hosting?” you almost laugh at the way his expression drops.
“aha—that's...”
“oh, c'mon! you love me more than anything, right? that also includes putting your hatred for alhaitham at bay just to keep me company, riiiight?”
“m-maybe there are a few exceptions—” he really doesn't want to see that guy more than necessary!
you lean closer to him, cupping his cheek with a smile. “even if i give you a kiss now?”
“—nevermind! i'll join you!”
yes, i hc kaveh is a simp <3
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