#finally focused on the lines instead of ignoring them
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liam's lesson
bf! Xaden x reader x Liam
Xaden decides to give Liam a lesson in pleasing a woman, but not just any woman; you, his girlfriend, who Liam's had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?
words: 5.3k (now officially my longest fic ever!)
🏷: NSFW, afab reader who is referred to with she/her prns and as a "girl", established relationship with Xaden, Liam has a puppy crush on you (we love pathetic, lovesick Liam in this house!), nothing between the boys, they're both just focused on you, fucking someone other than your partner (not cheating, as everyone involved is consenting) while said partner watches, maybe you're a little bit in love with Liam (aren't we all?) Xaden is in charge here, teaching Liam how to make you cum. oral, fingering, and penetrative sex (all f recieving), unprotected sex, very brief misuse of Xaden's shadows, Xaden is the king of Tyrrendor but Liam is the king of aftercare. I think that's everything. once again, proofread with a migraine so be nice. okay byeee
Admittedly, Liam had been a little nervous when Xaden had pulled him aside at dinner and told him to come over to his room around ten to talk — what secret, urgent revolution stuff did they need to discuss? Was something wrong back home? Surely he wouldn’t have waited if that was the case.
He knocks hesitantly, and the door unlocks for him — part of Xaden’s magic that Liam still isn’t used to. A lot has changed about his older brother in the two years they’ve been apart.
He starts to ask why Xaden wanted to see him at this hour, but then he catches a flash of pale blue in his periphery, his head turning toward the other side of the room, where he sees you stretched out on Xaden’s bed in your pajamas — which don’t leave much to the imagination.
He stops mid-sentence and whirls around, averting his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…”
“Did you forget about the little conversation we had last week?” Xaden asks, amused.
It takes Liam a minute to realize what the older boy is referring to. “You were serious?”
He catches a glimpse of the lace-clad curve of your hip in the mirror in front of him, shutting his eyes tightly and willing himself not to get hard — not over his brother’s girlfriend. That’s definitely crossing a line.
“Of course I was serious,” Xaden answers.
“And you’re… you’re okay with this?” he asks you, still not convinced he isn’t dreaming.
“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” you answer.
He still looks hesitant. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Liam nervous, but his normal confident and happy demeanor is nowhere to be seen. It hurts, somehow.
“Hey,” you soothe, sitting up straight, “if you don’t want to do this, that’s okay. We’ll never speak of it again.”
“No,” he answers, finally looking at you in the mirror, swallowing hard, “I do want to.”
It might ruin him forever, but he really does want this. He’s wanted something with you for ages, and if he can’t have the real thing — his lips on yours and his hands on your body, pleasing and worshiping you the way you deserve — he might as well watch Xaden do it instead.
“Okay, then.”
Xaden wastes no time pulling you into a deep kiss that you melt into almost instantly — so his dominance and control extends into the bedroom, too. That should have been obvious.
He pulls back after what feels like ages for Liam but mere seconds for you, and you whine softly, needing more.
“Hear that? That’s the sound you’re looking for. Those little whimpers, and the squirming. You want to get her nice and needy first.”
Liam nods, still just watching, unsure what his role will be in all of this. He tries to ignore the ache of his cock, tries not to think about it, but the sight of you in those tiny silk pajamas, if you could call them that, is impossible to look away from, and impossible not to get turned on by. He’ll definitely need to sort himself out after this is over, but at least it’ll fill the spank bank forever — he’s never going to forget this.
“Go ahead,” Xaden prods, and Liam feels like he might faint — this is a hands-on lesson? He’s supposed to touch you, not just watch?
You pat the space next to you on the bed, motioning for him to take a seat.
He kicks off his boots hastily, padding across the floor and stopping in front of you.
You uncross your legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed, your knees only an inch or two from his thighs now. “Hi, Li.”
Gods, the way you say his name so sweetly, shortening the four letter word into two, the way you’re gazing at him so sweetly, and the sight of you, your usual rider’s leather stripped away, with soft pastel silk in its place that covers less than half of what your uniform does... You even smell sweet, sugary and floral, a mix of all the pretty products you’d used in the shower you’d taken prior to this little engagement. He can tell how smooth and soft your skin must be even without touching it.
“Hi,” he manages, blinking at you.
There’s a few seconds of awkwardness before you take the reins, bringing a hand up to cradle his jaw and guide him to where you want him, his lips just an inch away from yours — letting him be the one to close the gap.
“Whenever you’re ready,” you say in a gentle whisper, setting your hand back down.
You’re too sweet, too kind and caring. This is a mistake, a terrible one, that he’ll likely never recover from, but he’ll regret it forever if he walks out on you right now; this will likely be the only opportunity he’ll ever have to touch you like this.
He leans forward, nudging his nose against yours gently before he goes in for a kiss, thankful that he’d brushed his teeth in the last hour. You taste sweet and minty, your lips slippery with whatever salve you use to keep them that soft.
You continue guiding him through it, settling one of his hands on your waist and the other on the small of your back, how Xaden had held you, deepening the kiss, introducing your tongue a bit, starting him off slowly.
He steps forward, nudging your legs apart with one of his so he can be even closer to you.
There’s that cute, needy sound that he’d been instructed to look for. Boldened, he holds you a little tighter, pulling you toward him the way he’d seen Xaden do. You seem to like it, tangling a hand in the soft black fabric of his tunic and tugging him closer, whining softly.
He finally pulls away, breathless, just looking into your eyes for a moment, memorizing them. He’s never been this close to you before, never noticed the little streaks and flecks of different colors within your irises...
“Good,” a deep voice assesses.
He startles, stepping back as he remembers that Xaden is still leaning against the armoire five feet away — after all, this is his room, his bed, and his girlfriend.
You’d almost forgotten, too.
“Keep kissing her, and grope her a little,” Xaden says candidly. “She likes being handled.”
Xaden’s wording gives him pause. Her, She. Not girls in general, but you. He’s teaching Liam how to please you. He shakes the thought from his head, reminding himself that this is a one-time thing.
You’re giving him that soft, worried look again. He steps forward, putting his hands back on your waist and pulling you into another deep kiss. You squeak in surprise as his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing gently over the slippery silk.
He chuckles, a warm, rumbling sound that you’ll never grow tired of hearing, his lips trailing over your jaw down to your neck.
Xaden likes to leave his mark on you, sucking at your skin hard enough to leave purple bruises the next day, scraping over your pulse with his teeth… but Liam just wants to savor you, to press gentle kisses to every inch of you, to nuzzle his nose into your neck and breathe you in.
You relax against him, content to let him continue kneading at your hips and waist, rubbing his hands over the smooth skin and massaging out any tension left over from the long day of classes and flight training.
He’s worked his way down your neck to your collarbones and chest, his lips brushing the neckline of your nightshirt. He hesitates there for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but Xaden is quick to give more directions.
“Arms up, honey.”
You comply readily, Liam helping lift your shirt over your head. He folds it into neat quarters before he sets it aside on Xaden’s desk, treating the silky fabric as carefully as he does its owner.
You give him a nod of permission, and he slides his hands up your ribs to your chest, admiring the weight of the soft flesh in his hands for a moment, squeezing gently.
“And these cute little nipples,” Xaden coos, curling a wisp of shadow over them. You whine softly at the cold sensation, squirming a bit, but he doesn’t seem to care, still speaking to Liam. “Play with them. Rub your fingers on them, pinch a little bit, suck on them… But be gentle. She’s sensitive.”
He starts off slow, brushing his thumbs over them gently while he returns his lips to your collarbones, pressing little kisses over the soft skin. And then he moves down, down…
You sigh happily at the feeling of Liam’s tongue laving over your nipple in slow, gentle licks, continuing to tease the other with his fingers. He wraps his lips around it, suckling gently, and you tangle a hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head and keeping him close.
“That’s a good sign, too,” Xaden instructs. “Keep going.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice — he’s intent on taking his sweet time with you, licking and sucking and teasing the sensitive little buds. He could do this for hours, just to hear your soft sighs of pleasure and see the blissful look on your face while he works.
You decide that Liam Mairi is simply perfect at everything he tries. The top of his class, and an excellent student. He’s done everything right, passing Xaden’s assessment with flying colors. But if he’s this good with his tongue up here… you need that pretty blond head between your thighs, immediately.
“Shh, honey,” Xaden soothes. “He’ll give you what you need in a minute.”
You flush, realizing that your soft whimpers have become more frequent and higher pitched, more urgent, bordering on pathetic.
Liam pulls back, taking a second to admire you and giving your chest one last squeeze before he moves further down.
Gentle fingers hook into the waistband of the tiny pair of shorts you’re wearing, pulling them down your legs along with the even tinier underwear, a scrap of lace that while very pretty and undoubtedly expensive, must be removed, as it stands in the way of him burying his face between those gorgeous thighs of yours.
He wonders if you’ll taste as sweet as you had in those shameful dreams, the ones that had necessitated long, cold showers in the morning and sitting clear across the table from you at breakfast, trying not to look you in the eye.
“I’ll take those,” Xaden volunteers smugly, and Liam tosses them at him, returning his attention to your pussy.
“Holy shit, honey,” he swears, “you’re soaked.”
“Good,” Xaden praises. “That means you did everything right so far. But you still need to make her cum before I’ll let you fuck her.”
Liam’s eyes widen almost comically. He hadn’t expected Xaden to let him touch you at all, but now he’s allowed to go all the way with you? This has to be a dream.
“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you remind him gently. “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”
“I do want to,” he answers, too quickly. Cute.
You smile at him; another tiny cut that will be rubbed full of salt tomorrow morning, when he’ll have to see you sitting with Xaden at breakfast and pretend this never happened, that he hasn’t known the taste of your lips and the feel of your skin.
“Then hop to it, pretty boy,” you encourage, smiling — it’s clear that you don’t mean it as an insult, but as a sweet pet name; he’s absolutely gorgeous.
Liam doesn’t need instructions for this part. He gets you settled up against the pillows, making sure you’re comfortable there before he gets to work. He kisses each of your hip bones, his hands smoothing over your legs to part them enough to accommodate his broad shoulders as he lays down on his stomach, hooking his muscled arms around your thighs.
Xaden crosses the room toward you, perching on the edge of his desk, right next to the bed.
You gasp softly at the feeling of Liam’s tongue on you — he’s doing exactly what he’d done to your chest, those soft little licks and sucks, his hands massaging your thighs gently…
“Just like that,” you breathe. He’s worked you up so well that you’re already close, and if he keeps doing what he’s doing, you’ll be cumming on his tongue in a minute or two.
He’s a very fast learner, and incredibly responsive— he’s figured out what earns him those cute little noises that have him throbbing with need, and now he’s doing those things over and over.
He resists the urge to reach down and stroke himself to take the edge off, knowing he wouldn’t last, not with how sweet you taste and the warmth and softness of your thigh against his cheek, your hand in his hair…
“Liam,” you mew, tugging at the soft blonde strands.
Your jaw drops at the realization of just how easily his name left your lips, how natural it felt… You look over at Xaden, wanting to apologize, but it’s hard to form words right now with how good Liam’s tongue feels sucking at your clit.
“It’s okay, honey,” Xaden soothes, tilting your chin up with a gentle hand. “You should let him know how good it feels — how else will he learn, hm?”
You nod, your eyes still locked with his. The depth of those nearly-black irises is such a stark contrast to Liam’s ice blue, but you could easily drown in both, never able to find your way back up to the surface.
“Slip a finger in, slowly.”
Liam’s hands are just as giant as Xaden’s, his fingers just as thick — but rougher, calloused from his constant whittling. Such a cute, innocent hobby. But there’s nothing innocent about the way he’s touching you right now.
“Look for that little rough spot,” Xaden instructs, still looking you directly in the eye. “Press into it a little bit.”
You whimper softly, entranced by the little gold flecks in his irises.
“Sounds like you found it,” he says, sounding amused. “Now curl your fingertips against it, press up on it gently…”
Liam is a perfect soldier, in every sense of both words; very good at following orders, complying without hesitation and getting the job done, but he might be too perfect, too gentle and handsome and kind, too loving… too good to be true. He’s going to absolutely ruin you — both by making you fall apart for him, in what is undoubtedly going to be one of the best orgasms of your life, and by breaking your heart when this is all over.
You focus back on the pleasure, the thoughts fading away quickly. “So good, baby,” you breathe, “just like that.”
Liam hums in acknowledgment, continuing the motions, the soft lap of his tongue and the gentle press of his fingertip into that special little spot quickly building up the pressure between your hips, getting you closer and closer…
“Add a second finger. You’ll need to stretch her a little if you want your cock to fit.”
It’s easy enough for him to slip in his middle finger beside his index, your body providing no resistance to the intrusion; you’re aching for it. You have been since Xaden told you about this little plan of his.
You need to thank him profusely for this later. Maybe you’ll get on your knees for him in the shower, or- “oh,” you gasp, the deep pleasure intensifying now that Liam is pushing two fingers into that little spot… you’re not going to last.
“Xay,” you whimper, remembering the rules he’d laid out for you prior to Liam’s arrival — Liam might be allowed to play with you for one night, but you’re still very much Xaden’s, and he’s still very much in control here.
He coos down at you patronizingly. “You getting close, honey? You wanna cum on Liam’s fingers?“
“Yes, please,” you pant, whining up at him.
“Such good manners,” he praises. “Go ahead, honey. Show him how pretty you sound when you cum.”
It only takes a few more seconds of that delicious pressure building before it becomes enough to throw you over the edge. You whine, tightening around Liam’s fingers and squirming in his grasp, babbling a mix of swear words and thank-you’s and both of their names.
Liam slows his pace, letting you ride it out with a few more soft licks.
“Keep going,” Xaden orders. “She knows what to say if it’s too much. Doesn’t she, honey?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage between your cute little cries, gasping as you feel cold bands of shadow wrap around the backs of your knees, keeping your legs spread while you squirm in sensitivity, undecided between chasing the pleasure and running from it.
Thank the gods for sound shields.
It’s clear to Xaden that you’re reaching your limit, starting to get overwhelmed, and he doesn’t want to wear you out just yet. “Stop,” he orders, calling back his shadows.
Liam withdraws his fingers, and you slump back down against the pillows, spent and panting.
Liam doesn’t have to be told to comfort you after, to take care of you in the comedown — he does it instinctively. “Shh, honey,” he soothes, scooping you into his lap and holding you close. “It’s okay.”
You rest your head against his collarbone, cuddling into him and letting your eyes fall shut, just taking a moment to breathe.
“You did so good for us, pretty girl. Just breathe, hm? You’re safe with us.”
Xaden had convinced himself that this would be a one-off thing, but seeing the tenderness with which Liam is holding you, stroking your hair and cooing soft praises…
Liam’s a good guy, kind-hearted and caring, but this isn’t just that — no, this is genuine love that he senses between you. It might be heightened right now due to the incredibly intimate experience you just had with one another, but there’s something there. He gets the feeling that there always has been, even before your days at Basgiath; it’s just been brought to the surface tonight, and oddly enough, Xaden isn’t mad about it at all.
It should piss him off. He should detest the idea of another pair of hands, male hands, on his girl, but it’s Liam. He loves Liam. Not in the way he loves you — and he doesn’t want to fuck him, that’s for sure — but he cares for the younger boy deeply, and if anyone else is going to be touching his girl, he’d want it to be Liam. Maybe that’s why he’d suggested this whole thing in the first place.
You’ve made a full recovery by now, caught your breath, and you sit up in Liam’s lap, drawing him into a kiss.
Such a needy little thing, always eager for more. Liam is happy to help, kissing you back easily, smoothing his hands over your sides and kneading your hips. He places a hand on the back of your head, another on your waist, laying you down in one slow, fluid movement — again, with the utmost gentleness, making sure that you’re comfortable.
“Put a pillow under her hips,” Xaden instructs.
Liam takes one from the head of the bed, his other hand hooking under your knees to lift your lower body off the bed — you giggle, impressed by his strength.
Liam wonders if you like being thrown around a little bit, manhandled, held down… you’d look and sound so pretty getting pounded into the mattress, face-down ass-up, whimpering into the pillows, but he’s not wasting this opportunity on a quick, rough fuck — and Xaden would probably take issue with that, anyway. No, Liam’s going to take his sweet time with you, treat you nice and gently, and look into your eyes while he does it.
Your jaw drops at the sight of him finally pantsless, the thick black uniform fabric pulled off to expose the pale muscle of his thighs. Gods, you’d love to straddle one and just grind against it while you kiss him, those giant hands on your hips helping guide you back and forth until you came, and then…
Holy shit.
Everything about Liam Mairi is perfect, including — and especially — his cock. And you need it inside you, now.
He strokes himself once, twice, as if he isn’t rock-hard already, dragging the tip through your wetness, letting it tease your clit…
You whimper softly, shifting your hips down to try to guide him into you.
“Words, honey,” he reminds, in a tone eerily similar to Xaden’s. The last twenty minutes have certainly boldened him.
“Want you to fuck me, Liam, please,” you ask softly, pouting up at him. “Need it.”
He could never say no to that pretty face, never deprive you of anything you wanted. He slowly pushes forward, giving you the first two inches.
You take in that same little breath you do when Xaden slides into you, looking up at Liam the same way, with glossy eyes and parted lips, gripping the sheets on either side of you. He takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “You okay, honey?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, taking a moment to adjust. He’s not quite as big as Xaden, but it’s still more than enough to fill you completely, a slight stretch as he slowly makes his way forward, a little bit at a time.
He leans down to kiss you, stroking a roughened hand over the softness of your waist soothingly. It’s taking every ounce of his self-restraint not to lose it right now, at the feeling of you wrapped around him, but he needs to make sure you’re okay first before he does anything else.
“M’ ready,” you tell him softly.
“If it hurts, say the word and I’ll stop, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Okay,” you answer obediently, your heart melting — Liam has always been sweet to you, if a little shy, but right now it’s increased fourfold, every word and every touch coated with love and care.
“Attagirl,” he praises, giving you a little peck before he straightens back up, adjusting his hold on your waist and starting to rock his hips into yours.
You both gasp in unison at the feeling, soft pleasure spreading through your core.
“How’s she feel?” Xaden asks, a note of smug amusement in his tone — it's clear that Liam is finally starting to lose his grip a little, his breathing getting heavier, his cheeks flushed…
“Like heaven,” he answers, trying to keep his composure, “so warm and wet and tight… fuck,”
He’s so fucking deep inside you, hitting all the right spots and touching you in the right places, working his way into your heart and carving out a space for himself between your ribs. You hold his hand a little tighter, whimpering softly.
“Doing so good for me, honey, taking me so well,” Liam soothes, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “How’s that feel?”
“Really… good… So… deep,” you manage, your eyes still locked with his, your breaths coming in little pants and gasps.
“Yeah?” he asks, teasing, “Can you feel me in your tummy, baby?” He lays a giant hand between your hips, pushing down, and your jaw drops — the added pressure makes you feel even more full of him, makes every sensation more overwhelming and intense.
Where did he learn to do that?
“Uh-huh,” you stammer. “Feels so good, ah,” It’s very good. Overwhelmingly good.
Xaden makes a mental note to try that with you later — you look like you absolutely love it.
The little fucker didn’t need lessons at all, just a confidence boost, and you’re certainly giving that to him. Xaden knew that deep down, knew about that little puppy crush he’s had on you for years, which hadn’t faded in the time you’d been apart, but decided to offer you up anyway, precise reasons unknown.
He gets the feeling that this might not be a one-night thing after all. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe Liam can warm your bed and tend to your heart while he’s busy running his revolution and spending late nights on wingleader duty, doing his dagger drops with the fliers…
Liam adjusts the position of his hand, a long finger reaching down to swirl over your clit, and the combination of it all is enough to get you there.
You tear your eyes away from Liam’s to look over at Xaden, a panicked little whimper leaving your lips.
He knows exactly what that sound means. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” he coos, stroking your hair. “You can cum.”
“Thank you, oh, fuck,”
Liam hadn’t gotten a proper look at you last time, his eyes closed and his head tucked between your thighs, but looking down at you now, seeing your face; cheeks flushed, lips parted in cute little panting breaths, hands clutching the sheets… and then he feels it — feels you clamp down on him, your thighs trembling against his as you shatter.
“Fuck,” Liam rasps, his fingers digging into your hips to ground himself as he continues to fuck you through it.
You’re drowning in the deep blue of his eyes, and you need something to hold on to. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down by the shoulders so he’s practically laying on top of you — you always do this to Xaden, needing to feel him close to you in your hazy state, and Liam isn’t an exception.
The closeness definitely does something to Liam as well. He braces his forearms against the bed and continues to rock his hips into yours, panting soft praises. “Attagirl. So pretty, so soft and sweet and perfect… you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, doing so well for me.”
If you weren’t his brother’s girlfriend, he’d probably throw an I love you in there too, find some way to call you his, to tell you how much you mean to him outside of this bed, but he still has enough rationality left to know would be a bad idea even without Xaden supervising this whole thing.
He’s so close to you, your entire bodies pressed together, your breaths mixing and noses brushing… you’re clinging to him, continuing to whimper up at him softly… He’s about to fall apart himself.
“You can cum inside her, if you want,” Xaden offers, too casually.
You keen at the idea, shifting your hips to try to take him deeper.
“Oh, would you like that, pretty girl?” he asks teasingly, through panting breaths. “Want me to fill you up?”
“Yes, please,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter.
He’s not going to last. He starts to move a little faster, chasing his own high — he’s never waited this long, never spent so much time on a partner’s pleasure, and while you absolutely deserved it, he needs his own release desperately. “Oh, fuck,” he gasps, “gonna cum, baby, are you sure you want me to—”
You tangle your hand in the short blonde hair at the back of his neck and yank him down into a kiss, keeping your legs tight around his waist, not letting him pull out.
He whines against your lips, the prettiest little muffled moan as he spills into you.
“Holy shit,” he pants, his cheeks red from the exertion. He’s always pretty, but nothing beats this, all flushed and fucked out, his hair mussed and lips swollen from the kisses you’d shared, eyes half-lidded…
You commit the sight to memory, suddenly hit with the realization that you’ll never see it again. For all intents and purposes, this “lesson” is over, and starting tomorrow morning, Liam will go back to being your boyfriend’s little brother, and nothing else.
He seems to realize the same thing, resting his head over your heart and breathing you in for a moment, the both of you lingering in the afterglow, not wanting to say goodbye. You hold him a little closer, stroking your hand through his damp hair silently.
Xaden lets you have a minute together, seeming to understand the significance of this moment for the both of you, and backing off.
He slips down from his perch on the edge of the desk, giving you space, but you reach for him, wanting him close, too.
“Can Li stay the night?” you ask in a small voice, not ready for him to leave.
He smiles at you. “Of course he can, sweet girl.”
“Thank you,” you murmur. “Love you.”
“I love you too, baby. Now let's get you both cleaned up.”
You hum sleepily, letting him pull you up out of bed and get you ready for the showers.
It’s surprisingly not awkward, the two boys working in tandem to clean you up — neither of them mind the other’s presence, having been desensitized to casual nudity from years — or in Liam’s case, weeks — of sharing a bathing room with a handful of strangers.
Liam dries you off, sorting out your hair while Xaden helps rub in that sweet-smelling lotion and dresses you in one of his shirts before you flop down into bed, cuddling up between them contentedly.
You give Liam a sweet little goodnight kiss before you roll over, working yourself into Xaden’s arms like you always do, curling up against the strength of his chest, your head over his heart.
This could work, Xaden decides. You have enough room in your heart for both of them, and he knows that Liam’s intentions are pure — the only hitch will be managing his own emotions, namely any jealousy that arises over another man being romantic with his girlfriend.
It had honestly surprised him when he’d decided to offer Liam a night with you. He’s always considered himself possessive, ready to glare at anyone who looked at you too long — and that had intensified after he’d gotten his magic, once he could “read” people, but maybe that’s why he’d let Liam in, because he felt nothing but love and admiration from the boy.
Still, he can’t help but feel a little left out, even if he’d been the one controlling the whole situation — he hadn’t gotten off himself, too focused on coaching Liam and making sure you were okay, and then it would just have been awkward to do anything with you while Liam sat there idle…
Tomorrow morning, after Liam heads back to his own room, you’ll have some fun, just the two of you. Maybe he’ll tie you up with his shadows again, or press you up against the wall in the showers… the possibilities are endless, but he’ll probably decide on sleepy morning sex. It’s a Friday night, so you can sleep in a little Saturday morning, and have time for a lazy, loving fuck before anything is expected of either of you. He’ll remind you how much you love each other, and treat you as sweetly as Liam had — admittedly, he hasn’t been too gentle with you lately, focused on fucking out the stress of his third year, and being wingleader and leading a revolution on top of it all, but you’d taken it well, literally.
He’ll sleep on it, give it a day or two to simmer before he’ll discuss it with each of you; you first, of course, to see what you say so he doesn’t get Liam’s hopes up, but from the way your hand is still tangled up with Liam’s, his chest pressed to your back and his face nuzzled into the side of your neck, it’s pretty clear that neither of you would be opposed to them sharing you.
But all that can wait — for now, you just need to rest, tucked safely between the two boys that love you more than anyone else in the world.
#liam mairi#xaden riorson#fourth wing#liam mairi x reader#xaden riorson x reader#fourth wing x reader#mine#18+#smut
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:3
#vkaz#venom snake#kazuhira miller#mgsv#metal gear solid#artists on tumblr#procreate art#redraw of a screenshot#finally focused on the lines instead of ignoring them
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Imagine boyfriend!Wonwoo wanting you to cut his hair at home. He sees you cutting your hair just fine and he doesn’t think that his should be any harder. You remind him that just because you follow a couple of tutorials and perfect your bangs for the first time after multiple tries does not mean you were licensed to cut his hair no matter how low maintenance he thinks it is.
“It’s not even that long. It’s actually at a really cute length,” you argue as you rake through his dark locks that now reach his shoulders.
“You’re not giving me a whole new style, it’s just a trim. I trust you with a trim.”
There was no way that you trusted yourself, but if it’s what he wanted, you were willing to give it a try. You sit down on a dining chair placed in the middle of the bathroom in front of a mirror. You take deep breath as you flex the blades of the scissors between your digits, mustering up whatever courage you have.
Your boyfriend turned client seems to be calmer thanyou are, despite the fact he would face the harsh consequences. Instead he softly strokes your back, letting you know that whatever happens it will be okay. It calms you down only just a little bit.
You asked him to remove his glasses, placing them aside where they wouldn’t be a bother. You reminded of his pretty brown eyes that stare back at you in amusement, joined with his soft smile that perks up when he sees your face.
Breaking out of he trance, you finally snip the side of his hair and you were able to breathe again. The snips slowly gradually grew more confident finally seeing potential in this spontaneous new project until you’re met with an obstacle. “Dammit, this chair is too low.”
You bent your knees, but still, it was not enough for you to reach the end of Wonwoo’s the way you want. You move closer towards him, his thigh bordered by either of your legs, and there is a glint of something in his gaze. You exhale softly, snipping off more of the hair you placed between your fingers.
Focused on the task at hand, you didn’t notice how your weight shifted into Wonwoo’s thigh, almost leveraging him as a seat while you did him the favor he asked. Cutting off the bit of hair left in front of his eyes, you smile in contentment until you realize that you were in Wonwoo’s direct line of vision and slowly you settle into the warmth of his body.
Holding the scissors at arm’s length, you’re lost in his longing and cannot get a word in edgewise as he captures all of your vocabulary in a gentle liplock that heats up every passing second. He bites into your moan like an apple, crisp and sweet, while his hands goes up your back to press you closer towards him until there is room to even breathe.
When he parts, it’s bittersweet, but you catch the mischief in his eyes before he says, “Does this mean I have to give you a bigger tip?”
You ignore the obvious innuendo and lightly smack him against the apple of his cheek to which he winces exaggeratedly. “It not that kind of service, sir.”
“But if I can afford it?” He grins.
“Then you shouldn’t be getting haircuts at home cheapskate.”
#svthub#Wonwoo fluff#seventeen fluff#jeon wonwoo#jeon Wonwoo fluff#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen wonwoo
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could we get some gally headcannons please?👀
Whatever you want to write🩷
Thank you ❤️
gally in a relationship headcanons
masterlist
finally some gally love <3 idc what anyone says, his eyebrows are beautiful. NSFW BELOW.
the glade
enemies to lovers type shit. i'm talking y'all would go as far as avoiding meal times just to avoid seeing each other.
he'd always be staring at you—from across the glade, through the bonfire, literally all the time.
sooo many interactions would end with y'all being up in each other's faces and throwing petty insults.
you'd slap him if he says anything that borders on sexism. he eventually learns what's what.
'there's a thin line between love and hate'.
other gladers would get so annoyed by how much he talks about you. his favourite excuse: "she just pisses me off so much".
but there's no excuse for jerking off to the thought of you late at night.
honestly, he would probably realise he likes you when you scull his secret recipe drink in front of him.
he'd ignore his feelings until you're the only thing on his mind and it infuriates him so fucking much.
you would be arguing one time and then suddenly he kisses you. the kiss would be aggressive, heated, and most likely up against a tree or hut.
suprisingly, his confession after would be very vulnerable and tender.
everyone is confused the next day when you're practically glued to each other's sides
gally would be very protective and borderline possessive. he'd hate it whenever other guys stare or talk about you.
would probably end up in a fistfight over it.
he'd be a rough/passionate kisser.
he'd be very into thighs. his hands are big and calloused so he'd enjoy wrapping them around the plush of your thighs, kneading the soft warm skin in his hand.
despite his gruff and harsh demeanour, he would always hold/touch you with utmost delicateness, apart from heated moments.
guards you whenever you shower.
would break so many rules for you. reluctantly, of course.
y'all know the term 'sleeper build'? that's gally. he might not seem extremely muscly at first glance, but once he starts heavy-lifting and building, his arms are legit bulging.
your first time together wouldn't be too great, but once you practice more, it gets good. like, really good.
love love loves receiving but also thoroughly enjoys making you come and knowing only he can do it.
his favourite sex position would be holding you up against a wall. he likes feeling strong.
arguments would almost always end with him taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree.
when he gets stung, he would probably fight through the changing to tell you he loves you one last time before getting speared. oop.
the last city
when y'all reunite, you'd both collapse to the floor in each other's arms kissing and crying which surprises you. the gally you knew was not a crier or favoured public affection.
gally changed a lot since you last saw him, emotionally and physically. he is taller, more muscular, and has a more level-headed and calmer attitude.
he'd be more emotionally available and willing to be open and vulnerable with you.
the first thing y'all do when you're alone is have sex. and he even fucks differently.
the better wording would be 'make love' instead of 'fuck'.
he is much more gentle and loving and focuses on your needs wayyy more than his own. he couldn't believe how aggressive he previously was with you, how selfish he was.
he would worship your body and show you how much you really mean to him.
you would make him leave his mask on one time while y'all fuck. its hot af.
would always be touching you—an arm wrapped around your waist, holding your hand, your thighs, etc.
the hugs, man. he'd literally pick you up and engulf you in his arms. all the time. this mf had a severe epiphany and realised his love language was touch.
would always be complimenting you. "you're beautiful, you know that?", "god, you're a fucking angel.", etc
wouldn't get mad if other guys talked to or stared at you anymore. he would probably joke about it with them instead.
well, maybe he would be a little aggressive.
"yeah, ha-ha, careful or i'll throw you to the cranks".
trusts you to be able to take care of yourself but is still a major worrier, especially during the war within the city.
after arriving at the safe haven, he would build a house for you. you would enjoy watching him because, well... muscles.
all in all, gally would be an extremely different man compared to the one you first met, making your love for him stronger than it had ever been.
#wife of all dilfs ✍️#gally#gally x reader#gally maze runner#gally x you#tmr gally#will poulter#gally tmr#the scorch trials#the maze runner#the death cure#gally smut#gally imagine#tmr newt#tmr thomas#newt tmr#thomas tmr
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i feel like bitchy reader is definitely bossy and demanding and a total princess but in private she’s sweet (still has that bad princess attitude😭) with rafe. like he gets her to a level where she softens.
omg! you get them! ♡
sprawled on rafe's bed with your open magazines and a bottle of pink nail polish—despite how many times rafe had told you to not bring that shit onto his bed—you've made yourself comfortable.
balancing your phone to your ear, you fan your nails with your other hand. one of your friends is on the other line, he can tell you're fed up with whoever it is, even more than usual, by the way you talk to her.
rafe walks in and watches the scene in front of him while you observe your nails and flip another page, dog-earing something that's caught your eye, something he's gonna be buying you soon if you don't buy it yourself first.
"who is it?" he mouthes when you finally look up.
"your stupid sister," you say back at a normal volume, not even blocking the speaker or muting yourself.
"hey! i heard that-" his sister's voice comes through the speaker.
"yeah, i meant you to," you reply, blowing on your nails.
"y'know she's downstairs, right?" rafe asks, though you don't answer, just roll your eyes while you ignore him and continue your conversation.
"anyways, stop chasing people. especially people lower than you. it's embarrassing, sarah."
"stop calling john b 'lower people'!"
"tell him to stop behaving like lower people then. it's not that hard. or maybe you should up your standards."
though he's a little confused by what you're saying, rafe goes back to focusing on the reason he came in here, opening up his laptop. you and sarah keep yapping back and forth, until you finally hang up.
you look up at rafe expectantly the second you hang up the call, but he's too focused on the screen to see you. you set aside the magazines, tightening up the nail polish bottle and setting it on rafe's nightstand carefully—you didn't need another fiasco like the time you spilled it everywhere.
but just like your boyfriend, you were too stubborn to listen to anyone but yourself.
"okay! i'm ready now," you say, sitting up against his headboard.
"ready for what?" rafe asks, still not looking up. you want to chuck the nail polish at him to get his attention, but you foresee it ending badly, settling on tossing one of the magazines instead. it lands with a thud by rafe's feet. "huh?" just confused, not angry, he picks it up and sets it down on his desk before looking at you.
"i'm ready to hang out now." for all your stubbornness, even the irritating way you fight with him and somehow always have a better comeback ready than he does, when he looks at you, it's hard to hold back a smile.
"what about twenty minutes ago when i was ready to hang out, huh?" you roll your eyes.
"oh, shut up, liar. you came to get your laptop."
"you don't know that."
"if you came to hang out, you would have come here and hung up the call." you say it matter-of-factly, looking up at him with an irritatingly pretty smile, the one reserved for when you're reading him for filth.
"shut up." he closes the laptop and makes his way to you anyways, but when you curl into his chest and get quiet for a moment, he has a hard time remembering what the two of you were even talking about to begin with.
and though you would never admit it, you don't either.
#silly sorry its all that came to mind but#<333#you get them#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#bitchy reader
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER
౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> can i request one for manager and nika? kind of building off the head cannon that nika is SUPER protective. maybe an opposing player slips in a comment in the post game handshake line and nika hears and shit just hits the fan. because everyone knows that girl is scaryyyyyy when she’s mad.
─ word count | 1k
─ warnings | mention of manager shit talking (or rather truth talking cussss), a singular insult, nika being super duper protective, nothing else?
THE GAME HAD been very intense, but in the end UConn had pulled through and won.
You had been there the entire time, taking pictures and watching the game silently ─ well, somewhat silently. You couldn't help but let out a couple snide comments that may or may have not been heard from the opposing team. But to be completely fair, they had been playing dirty! What were you supposed to do, just sit there and let them?
Absolutely not.
As the final buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted into cheers, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the hard-fought victory. You had been there every step of the way, capturing the intensity of the game through your camera lens and silently (or not so silently) cheering on your team.
As the players celebrated on the court and the fans spilled out of the arena, you made your way down to the sidelines, eager to capture the excitement of the moment.
"Y/N! Put down the damn camera and come celebrate!" You heard Geno shout. You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you put down the camera on the bench and going to join your team.
The girls were very enthusiastic, running up to you and lifting you up in a group hug, their cheers and laughter filling the air. As they pulled away, you felt Nika's arms pull you closer in a tight hug as you both laughed.
You looked up to meet your girlfriend's gaze, a small smile playing on your lips as you cupped her cheek. "You played amazing tonight,"
"Thank you, my love." She pressed a small kiss on your cheek before you heard Paige's shouts.
"God, you guys are making me sick." Paige teased as Nika rolled her eyes. She gestured for the two of you to come over so you could line-up for the post-game handshake.
You shared a knowing glance with Nika, both of you unable to suppress a fond smile at Paige's playful teasing. With a laugh, you intertwined your fingers with Nika's, the warmth of her hand in yours sending a rush of comfort through your veins.
Together, you made your way over to join Paige and the rest of your teammates, ready to line up for the post-game handshake. As you stood shoulder to shoulder with Nika, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the sight of your team.
As you shook hands with some of the girls, you could feel their glares on you. You just ignored it because if they were really focused on the game, they wouldn't have heard the comments ─ maybe, that's why they had lost.
However, as you reached the last player in line, you were taken aback when she sneered at you, her tone dripping with disdain. "Bitch," she mumbled under her breath as she gripped your hand roughly, causing you to wince.
The petty insult hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you were speechless. But before you could respond, Nika stepped forward, her eyes flashing with anger as she confronted the opposing player.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, her voice icy with fury as she locked eyes with the offending player. "The fuck did you say?"
The opposing player faltered for a moment, taken aback by Nika's sudden protectiveness. But instead of backing down, she squared her shoulders, her expression defiant.
"I called her a bitch," she retorted, her voice laced with arrogance. "Your girlfriend may be good with a camera, but let's see how she handles herself on the court."
Before anyone could react, Nika reached out and grabbed the player's jersey, her grip firm and unyielding. "You don't get to talk to her like that," she spat, her eyes blazing with fury. "Say that shit again, I dare you. Call her a bitch again and see what happens,"
The opposing player recoiled at Nika's sudden aggression, her bravado faltering in the face of Nika's unwavering determination. "Let go of me," she demanded, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
But before anything else could happen, you saw Aaliyah come over and grip her shoulder, telling her to let it go. Nika stood there for a moment, sending an icy glare her way for a couple moments before she pushed the girl as she scoffed.
As Aaliyah guided the player away, Nika's glare intensified, her frustration palpable in the tense silence that hung in the air. But before she could say anything more, you felt her hand on your arm, pulling you away from the confrontation.
"You okay? I'm sorry that happened," her voice was soft as you looked at her, your expression stern.
"Why would do that, it wasn't worth it. You could get in a lot of trouble-"
She shushed you with her finger as she sighed. "Relax, it's fine she called you a bitch and I was defending my teammate. Why would I get in trouble?"
You couldn't help but sigh, a mixture of frustration and admiration swirling inside you as you looked into Nika's determined eyes. Despite her reassurances, you couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of your mind.
"I know you were defending me, and I love you for that," you said, your voice softening with gratitude. "But things could have escalated, and I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."
Nika's expression softened, her thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand as she met your gaze. "I'm not gonna get in trouble, I promise you. And if I do, Geno would probably just make me run a couple laps and I'll be fine. So please, don't worry about me. I'm your damn girlfriend, I'm going to defend you."
You couldn't help but smile at Nika's reassurance, her unwavering loyalty warming your heart. With a deep breath, you let go of your worries, trusting in Nika's judgement.
"I know you will," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude and love. "And I'm grateful to have you by my side, always looking out for me."
Nika's smile mirrored your own, her eyes shining with affection as she squeezed your hand gently. "Always," she said, her voice filled with unwavering determination.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#uconn wbb manager ★#uconn#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#wcbb#wcbb x reader#ncaa wbb#wbb x reader#nika muhl x reader#nika muhl imagine#nika mühl#nika muhl#nika muhl smut
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playing with fire - yang jungwon
pairing ☆ jungwon x f. reader
warnings ☆ dom!jungwon, (im a sucker for doms), sub!reader, cunnilingus, cheating (reader and reader's exbf), in exbf's bed (lolol), praise (!!!), jungwon is a sweetheart, ft. ryujin of itzy and jaemin of nct
word count ☆ 4k
a/n: summer break !!! i can finally post more :) i am taking summer courses which sucks tho :(
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
usually, you love a good party. the drinks, the way drunk girls unite while in line for the bathroom. it became one of your favorite things about college.
but it wasn't always this way.
during your first year, you absolutely despised parties. opting out to curl up with a good book or tv show.
it was your second year when you found your love for parties.
your roommates begged you to go to a "beginning of the school year" party. then they dressed you like you were their doll.
3 shots later, you were all ready to go. (you wanted to pregame in fear of getting spiked at the party)
when you saw yourself in the mirror, you could not see the nerdy girl underneath.
short black skirt, tight white corset, boots that gave you at least two inches of height, and smoky makeup up with lashes.
your breast sat pretty, your ass was basically out, and your hair was straightened. straying away from the normal curls.
this was way out of your comfort zone but you liked it. feeling, for once in your life, hot.
of course, once you were actually at the party the confidence you had dissipated. you felt self-conscious, as you stood in the corner of the room.
you watched as people danced with friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, sneaky links. seeing them dance so openly and freely made you feel like an imposter.
you looked down into your red cup full of sprite. it wasn't even halfway finished.
you frowned as you looked back up. scanning the room for your roomates, you saw them having a good time.
sipping drinks and flirting with a group of guys that you've never seen.
that's when a pair of eyes found yours.
your eyes met his dark eyes and you felt your heart flutter.
your eyes dart to the floor in a panic as your cheeks heated up.
you never had gotten attention from boys, especially guys that were as hot as him.
he was tall, a good 5'10, lean, pretty face, dark eyes, jet black hair that looked soft to the touch and full lips that curve up into a cupids bow.
you could only imagine how they would feel.
you pulled yourself out of your thoughts and raced to pull out your phone.
focusing intently on your phone, you pull up your shared groupchat and start to type.
you only got to third word when you saw a body enter your eye sight.
you looked up to see who it is and it's the guy that was staring at you.
your heart was beating out of your chest. you've only ever read about guys this beautiful. but now you were in the presence of one.
you were awestruck like you just saw god.
he was dressed in the most basic fit, a backwards hat, a white tee, black adidias pants with stripes, and a white pair of adidas.
"hey, i've never seen you hear before." he gave you the most gut churning smile.
his long dimples catched your eyes like a moth to a flame.
"yeah, my roommate dragged me here and then disappeared." you bit your bottom lip.
"well, i can keep you company for the time being," he took your empty hand into his, leading you to the kitchen.
"what are we doing?" you question as you see where he is leading you.
"to get a drink." he smiled.
"what's your name?" you asked as he pulls you along.
"i'm na jaemin," he smirked.
that's when you knew you were in deep shit.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
now, your stood across the room from him just like how it started. glaring at him as if you were a hunter stalking its prey.
you know he feels your gaze. choosing to ignore it instead for some girl. the girl being one of your ex-roommates. the same one that brought you to a party in the first place.
you weren't surprised at this revelation. you knew she was known for being a homewrecker.
even going as far as sleeping with a professor. leading to his divorce with his wife.
so when you found the sext's between your boyfriend and ex-roommate, you didn't even flinch. she's known for this.
but, jaemin doesn't know that you know. all day you've been going around like everything is okay between you two.
just like is started, you plan to end it that way too.
he wants to play, you can play too.
while dressing up, you made sure to put on something that would turn heads.
dressing yourself in a tiny black skirt, red corset, and your favorite black heeled boots.
wearing the most dramatic makeup, a smokey red look with eyeliner that could cut.
nevertheless he doesn't even give you a second look. instead his focus is on the girl in front of him. looking her up and down while smirking.
you feel your face get hot, the anger has you crushing the red cup in your hand. nearing spilling all of you're sprite and vodka.
your hands releases before anything can spill.
instead you take a big gulp, nearly draining your cup.
you continue watching as the alcohol runs down, basking in the feeling of the warm substance reaching your stomach.
the feeling calms you. taking your mind away from the breaking heart in your chest.
you close your eyes and take a deep breath. containing the tears that you've been holding back.
when you open your eyes, you see him flashing his gummy smile at the women in front of him.
you are so over it. you are so ready to go over there and talk your shit.
not only to him, but to her too.
just as you were getting ready to stalk towards them, you feel a pair of hands on your waist.
you yelp as you jump to turn around.
"oh i didn't mean to scare you," your best friend, ryujin apologizes.
"it's okay," you turn back around as you feel your eyes start to water.
she quickly follows your gaze to where your almost ex-boyfriend is flirting with your ex-roommate.
she knows everything. as soon as your found out, she was there. threatening to cut his dick off and shove it down his throat.
at the time that made you laugh, but now it makes you want to cry. you wish she could do it without getting charged, but unfortunately that is frowned upon.
you put your head down to shield the forming tears from your best friend.
"forget about him," she makes her way to your front.
"i am trying," you pull your head up to look her in the eyes.
her hands make their way to your shoulders, shaking you lightly.
when you see her soften smile, you nearly break down.
"we are going to dance." she pulls you into a hug before pulling back and grabbing your wrist.
you hurry to gulp down your drink as she pulls you along.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
you end up between ryujin and a random guy.
your back is to him as you scan the room to find your cheating boyfriend.
you didn't realize how close you were until he leans over you and whispers into your ear.
"what are you looking at?" he follows your eyes to were you have been looking, "you've been staring over there all night."
you roll your eyes, "my boyfriend is cheating on me with my ex roommate."
you turn around to face him, faced with on of the most beautiful boys you have ever seen.
you thought the same about jaemin, but this guy topped him by a lot.
as tall (maybe taller) than jaemin, wide cat light eyes, that gleam a
you couldn't help but notice how pretty his eyes are. a dark chocolate color that has you buckling at the knees just looking at them.
you immediately freeze, face turning red for the second time tonight.
"i'm sorry for throwing that all on you,"
"no, it's okay. i'm jungwon," he greets you.
that name sounds so familiar but you can't put your finger on it. you crinkle your face as you attempt to recall.
"jungwon... i know that name from somewhere,"
"we had a project together last year. over the pros of solar power." he tilts his head slightly and smiles, his dimple on full display.
his smile caused the butterfiles to unleash from their cage in your chest. you attempt to lock them back up, but instead they make their way down to your cunt.
you slightly rub your thighs together as you feel your underwear dampen.
"oh yeah," you smile back.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
during the night, you dance with ryujin and jungwon. even going as far as to grind on the both of them.
hoping to get a reaction for your cheating boyfriend but instead getting the attention of his friends. glaring at you like you were in the wrong.
you couldn't care less, flipping them off multiple times as you grind your ass on the two people surrounding you.
as the night goes on you start to forget about jaemin. enjoying your time with jungwon and ryunjin, laughing and dancing to the music.
sometime around 1am, ryujin excuses you and her to go to the bathroom.
while standing in line you catch a glimpse of jaemin leaving his room with your ex-roommate, attempting to hide her behind him.
"where have you been all night?" he questions accusingly, as the girl sneaks past you both.
"i don't know, where have you been all night?" you scolf, crossing your arms.
"looking for you," he rolls his eyes.
"i was so easy to spot, ask your friends," you smirk, "or maybe ask your little fuck buddy," you nearly laugh.
"what?" jaemin squints his eyes are he plays dumb.
"oh you thought you were being sneaky?" you laugh this time, "might want to tell her that, she has been eyeing me the whole night. i think she wants me next. too bad i don't want your sloppy seconds." you wink.
you watch as his face turns a deep red. making you want to laugh even more. as he opens his mouth to respond, you hear the bathroom door open.
it is your turn for the bathroom.
"come on y/n," ryujin pulls you into the bathroom with her before you could finish going off on him.
"thank you," you hug her.
you probably would of pushed him down the flight of stairs next to you guys if she didn't pull you into the bathroom.
"no problem," she smiles at you as she pulls back.
after you both pee, you decide to go to check jaemin's room. sepecting that they were fucking while you were dancing.
you know that is it going to hurt you but you just need to prove it. your noisy personailty getting ahold of you.
when you both exit the bathroom, you top her. stepping off the side so the line can keep going.
"you can go down first," you tell her, "i have something i have to do." you nod to the room jaemin and his mistress came out of.
"okay, call me if you need me," she smiles, "the offer still stands, i can cut it off and stick it down her month instead."
you shake your head with a chuckle.
"i need you out of jail, who else is gonna threaten people for me."
she rolls her eyes, "fine, well text me. i'll be downstairs."
you give her a tiny nod before turning to walk down the dark hall.
when you get closer to jaemin's room, you see jungwon enter it.
you feel your stomach flip.
"why is he in there?" you question.
you conutine to stalk towards the room and with one step at a time, you feel your heart drop.
by the time you open the door, your heart is in your stomach.
the light on jaemin's desk is the only light on in the room. casting a orangish yellow color within the room.
"what are you doing in here?" you ask the boy that is leaning on jaemin's desk. the very same desk that you do homework on. or atleast did.
you shake the thought out of your head.
"waiting for you," jungwon smiles.
"how did you know i was.... you know what nevermind, you can you help?"
"sure, what do you need me to do?"
you look down at your shoes that are killing your feet.
"i'm looking for anything that proves that they were.. having sex." you wince at the heartbreaking thought.
he quickly moves to look around the bed as you rummage through jaemin's drawers.
knowing him, you thought he would hide it somewhere.
just like how he hide his secret side piece.
"like this?"
you turn around in a flash and to see jungwon holding the evidence.
a ripped condom packet.
you feel the tears form.
"fuck." you quickly wipe the few tears that are rolling down your cheeks.
he looks at you with pure eyes. watching as you wipe your tears.
he starts to walk towards you, "y/n, you know that he -"
he stops as you dash to the bathroom, feeling bile rise from your stomach.
you dry heave into the trash, only to find the final conformation that he indeed slept with her.
the condom, lazily tied and tossed for the world to see.
you feel your world crash down around you. you back up to the wall behind you. sliding down it as the tears slide down your face.
"he doesn't deserve you, y/n." jungwon sits down next to you.
"i know, jungwon. but it still hurts," you pull your knees to your chest and put your head on them.
jungwon takes this chance to move in front of you. pulling your head up to look into your eyes.
his brown eyes matching his dark brown hair, both glimmering in the bathroom light.
"can i take your mind off of it?" he wipes your tears.
"how?" you search his eyes for a clue to why he is being so nice to you.
"like this," he leans foward and smashes his lips onto yours.
you kiss back, feeling his warm lips against yours. not in lust but in want, need, yearning.
placing his hands on your cheeks he pulls you into a deeper kiss.
he pushes his tongue lightly against your lips. asking for entrance. you slightly part your lips and he pushes his tongue in.
he tastes like cranberry, probably from the cranberry vodka he was drinking.
you moan at the taste, sending a shock to your now aching cunt.
you took this time to push your tongue into his mouth, exploring it, memorizing, and craving more of it.
you don't even know how long you have been kissing when he pulls back.
you could care less as he rest his forehead on yours.
"fuck, you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that." his dimples reval themselves as he smiles..
"really?" you look down at your shoes.
"yes," brings his pointer fingers to your chin and lifts up your head.
"jungwon?" you question as your eyes flicker from one eye to the other.
"yes gorgeous?"
"can we get off the floor? my heels are hurting my feet." you chuckle.
"oh yeah," he moves quickly to get up.
once he is on his two feet, he holds out his hand to help you up.
thinking that he is just gonna help you up, you take it. but instead you end up around him.
legs circling him and arms incasing his neck.
your faces are inches apart when he utters.
"is this okay?" jungwon asks, pulling his face back a little to watch you answer.
you feel youself blush at the way his breath tickled your lips.
"yes, this is okay." you smile up at him.
he takes this as a okay to walk you out of thr bathroom. sitting you on jaemin's desk, he quickly makes his way to look the door.
"if you want to stop at any time, tell me okay?" he states as he takes big strides towards you.
you nod with a little smile. already feeling a little daze from the way he is talking to you.
"baby, use your words. i need to know that you understand," he reaches you and pulls you to the edge of the desk. pulling you closer to him.
"i understand jungwon," as soon as the words left your mouth, he lunges at your neck. soft lips leaving a trail of soft kissed and love bites.
"atta girl." jungwon praises you.
you feel the ache between your thighs worsen as he speaks.
"if i was your man, i would treat you better." he mutters on your neck.
"jungwon," you moan as he places one hand on your waist and the other on your left tit. pulling roughly on your corset, letting your breasts out of the tight garment.
"you like that? my hands all over you in his bedroom?" jungwon teases.
"mhm, i like it so much," you throw your head back in bliss.
his fingers pinch and squeezes your nipple making you jump and whimper.
"fuck y/n, you're so amazing." he grunts.
you close your thighs around jungwon, core aching in need as he continues talking.
"i would make you so happy y/n," jungwon starts, "baby, you would never feel the way he makes you feel,"
he brings his hand down from your tit to your clit. outlining the little bead as you arch into his hand.
you throw you head back, making it easier for him to have access to your neck.
he sucks roughly at your soft spot.
between the feeling of his lips on you and the noises that are filling the room, you could no longer hold back.
"fuck, jungwon." you moan loudly.
"you're so perfect y/n." he groans.
your fingers claw at his clothed back, wanting more.
"can i leave a mark?" he asks against your neck.
you nod as he starts to suck and nip at your skin savagely.
the sensation of his lips against your neck and his fingers circling you clit but not touching, you feel like you were going to combust of need.
"jungwon," you try to move your neck.
but, he doesn't let you move instead he places the hand from you waist on the back of your neck.
"please, please," you grind into his finger, finally getting it to touch your clit.
you roll your eyes in pleassure.
"what do you need baby?" he mumbles against your neck.
"i need you."
he pulls back and brings his hand from your clit to your chin. admirring his work before looking into your eyes.
"are you sure?" his bright brown eyes look at your wereily.
"please, i really want this," you smash your lips onto his.
you feel his arms embrace you before picking you up and making way to jaemin's bed.
you know this is wrong but you couldn't care less. jaemin cheated on you... and you want this.
jungwon lays you on your back on the edge of jaemin's bed.
"god, you're so gorgeous," he pulls back to look at you.
you blush and shy away, turning your head.
he pulls your head back to look at him.
"you don't have to cover up for me," he smiles at you.
"okay," you look into his big brown eyes.
he makes his hands down to your skirt.
"can i leave it on?"
fuck.
"yes," you whine.
he moves to his knees and kisses up your thighs to your underwear.
you gasp as jungwon's teeth latch onto the thin fabic of your underwear. you sit up on your elbows to watch him drag them off of you with his teeth.
you can feel the smooth surface of his teeth as he slowly drags them against your skin.
his hands are on the side of both of your thighs as he looks up at you with dark, lustful eyes.
once your underwear are past your thighs, jungwon finishes pulling them down quickly.
"lay just like that baby." jungwon mumbles as he lightly pushes you back down.
when you're back down, he starts to kiss up your thighs.
his hands return to the side of you as he continues to kiss up your thighs slowly until he makes it to your stomach.
"you're so pretty," he growls onto your stomach.
"jungwon, please." you arch.
he slides his right hand up your thigh to your wet heat.
you shudder at the feeling, feeling the sensation of your pulsating cunt.
the soft tips of his fingers prodding at your entrance.
"please what?" he smirks against your stomach.
"touch me," you moan as he slides his finger in.
"that's all you had to say y/n," he slides back onto his knees.
before you could even think of something to say, his mouth connects with your clit. sucking harshly as you whimper.
"fuck jungwon," he slides another finger into your wet pussy.
fingers pumping into you as he sucks on your numb clit.
"jungwon," you heave as he speads up his pace.
his tongue swirls around your clit as he continues to finger you.
"i am going to cum," you moan, "please keep going, just like that." you run your hands through his hair.
he doesn't stop as you grip his hair tightly.
you start to feel that build up of pleasure that jaemin could never bring to you.
"fuck, i am so so so close,"
jungwon moans against your clit and you break.
arching you back as you chant his name.
he slows down his motions and lifts off of you, quickly coming up to check on you.
"are you okay?" jungwon smiles with his red lips and puffy lips.
"yes, i am more than okay." you smile at him in a daze, "this is the first time in awhile that a guy has made me cum." you blush.
"glad i could help," he smiles again before going down to pick up your underwear.
"what are you doing?" you sit up on your elbows.
"dressing you. i don't want your roommate to worry." he helps you to pull up your underwear.
"she'll be okay," you smile as he stands.
"i want it to be special." he looks down at you.
"what?" you look back up at him.
"I want my first time with you to be special." he explains.
"why?"
"because, this is something i've been dreaming about. i do not want it to be in the same room that you're cheating ex lives in. you deserve so much better." he pulls you up and looks into your eyes.
you blush as you look down at the floor.
"is that okay with you?" jungwon brings his hand to your chin and guides it so that you are looking at him.
his eyes as wide as a full moon. glaring at you with a sparkle that has you wanting to drop to your knees.
"yes," you kiss him, jungwon kissing you back with more passion than you thought a human could ever have.
he pulls back after about a minute, "let's get you home."
you nod as he grabs your hand and leads you to the door.
as soon as you open it, your ex is standing there.
"what the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend?" he nearly screams.
"doing what you couldn't," jungwon smiles innocently, "making her cum."
you chuckle as jungwon pulls you though the party.
eyes are all on you both but you couldn't care less. for the first time in a long time you feel wanted. cherished.
you look around for your bestfriend but don't see her. pulling out your phone you see her text.
i went home, text me (jungwon texted me ;))
"i can drive you home." he says as you both step out into the cold.
"i would love that," you smile up at him from his right side.
"alright," he slings his arm around you and kisses your forehead, "let's go."
#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#jungwon smut#jungwon hard hours#yang jungwon#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen smut
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More milkman x reader smut but can you do chubby reader?? Please
Yes ofc!
As a chubby guy myself, none of my stories are ever written with a certain body type in mind, BUT obviously, I'm gonna write smth when requested so yeah!
Also I hope its okay that I brought body issues into this because I just think it fit the situation and the idea I had was just immediately "Francis would just be the absolute sweetest when making sure his partner loved themselves as much as he loves them".
Thanks so much for the request, anon!
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Smut, more soft, GN!Reader, Chubby Reader, Francis being just a tiny bit obsessed, established relationship, mentions of insecurity/ body image issues, Francis being a sweetheart and showing Reader that he loves them no matter what ♡♡
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!
Nothing annoyed you more than the days when you would feel like you didn't look good. You stared at the mirror, looking at your body with slight disgust and disappointment. You felt like you were too big in all the wrong places, and you can't help but hate yourself for it. You should work out, eat less, all that. Instead, you threw on a wide hoodie - one that belonged to your boyfriend Francis, hid your legs with loose fitting pants, and snuggled up on the couch, determined to ignore the thoughts you were having.
Francis was at work, so you were alone, and honestly, that wasn't helping one bit. You knew he'd help you, he always said that he loved you no matter what, not for your body but your soul, or something like that, but right now you doubted his words a little.
Once Francis returned, he found you on the couch still. You were focused on some random show you had put on to distract yourself, but he noticed the way you hugged your body uncomfortably. "You okay, love?" He asked, walking over and sitting down on the couch beside you. You nodded solemnly but didn't look at him. He immediately knew what was going on. He sighed, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you softly. He placed kisses on your cheeks and neck, murmuring softly. "You know I love you, baby.. you're the absolute most perfect being on the planet for me." He tells you, but your insecurities have long taken over. You cling to him desperately, and even though deep down you knew he wasn't lying, you didn't fully trust his words.
After a few minutes of sitting together, Francis telling you that he loved you and peppering your face with kisses, he softly picked you up and carried you to the bedroom - for a simple milkman, Francis was stronger than he looked.
He muttered something along the lines of showing you that he was being honest before pulling the hoodie off of you. You protested, tried to keep the fabric covering your body, but Francis wouldn't let you. He didn't even give you the chance to say something. Instead, he held your hands over your head and placed soft kisses all over your upper body. He paid special attention to the areas he knew you hated most, muttering praises in between each kiss. You were a flustered mess, and though the feelings about your body didn't magically disappear, they definitely weren't your main focus anymore. The way Francis' lips felt against your now feverish skin was almost heavenly, and you swore he was probably an angel sent to you by God just to help you through life. It would explain a lot, actually.
Your boyfriend took his sweet time with you. He didn't pull off your pants before he was 100% sure that you didn't think about your body type anymore. Soft kisses against your thighs, his hand ghosting over the hem of your underwear as you practically begged him to finally take them off. "Promise you aren't thinking lowly of yourself anymore?" He hummed, grinning against your skin. You whined, pouting. "I promise, jus'.. please..?" You muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Wouldn't be able to deny you any longer anyway." Francis chuckles, sliding your underwear down slowly, making you squirm impatiently. You hated that he was still fully clothed, so you did your best to tug at his shirt, mumbling something about unfairness. "Always so needy.." Your boyfriend hummed, but he gave in to your request, his shirt hitting the ground, his pants following soon after. The only thing separating the two of you were now his boxers - and of course, Francis had to be a dick about taking them off.
"You're so stunning... Do you know that baby?" He purred. "Tell me you know that." His hands slid over your thighs, squeezing lightly as he patiently waits for you to repeat his words. You wanted to protest, but at the same time, you knew he wouldn't let you get off easily. "I know.." You mumble, looking away from him. "Ah-ah. Look at me. Be honest." Francis smiles, placing a kiss against your thigh. You grumbled, looked at him, and repeated your words a little more strongly. "There you go." He hummed in answer, leaning up to press a kiss against your lips.
Francis made a point of giving you praise after every thrust. He refused to go faster since he wanted to make sure you fully understood. It didn't seem to bother him that you almost cried while begging him to move faster. He just kept dragging his hips slowly, mumbling a praise with a shaky voice and pressing kisses onto your cheeks or lips. While sure, it was really sweet, you couldn't help but genuinely want him to be a little rougher. You knew this was soft torture for him as well, since you could feel him twitch inside you, eager to chase after release. Francis only gave in after he had made sure that you knew he really wasn't playing around. He loved you. He didn't want you to feel bad about yourself just because of the way your body looked. You were more than attractive to him, after all.
You whined when he finally thrust into you properly, clenching around him as you gripped onto his back harshly. Francis let out a soft groan, snuggling his face against your neck as he finally allowed both of you to reach the high you had been begging for - and he had denied himself just to make sure you were focused. He didn't even care when he came inside you, too lazy to pull out in time as he pressed wet kisses against your neck.
"Promise you believe me, sweetheart?" He hums, resting against you. "Promise. For now." You chuckled, slightly tired after all that. Francis sighs and pouts, looking at you sternly. "Do I need to start all over again?" He asks, smiling as you shake your head and kiss him. "Just cuddling will do." You mumble against his lips.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x you#thats not my neighbor#x reader#francis mosses headcanons#francis mosses x reader#milkman that's not my neighbor#milkman x reader
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for all to see
summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…
word count: ~1.2k
-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.
trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.
obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.
nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.
however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.
‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’
“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”
you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…
you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.
“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”
you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.
“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”
the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.
he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”
how?
furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…
behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.
“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“
“silence.”
he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?
“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”
“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“
“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”
he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..
black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.
“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”
neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.
he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.
this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?
he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.
you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.
the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.
he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—
rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.
#genshin#genshin impact#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#sagau neuvillette#neuvillette#neuvillette angst#genshin angst#sagau angst#genshin impact angst#gender neutral reader#hi. i have been watching miraculous ladybug and have not devoted any time to genshin. uhm.
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The Villeneuve Dune(s) can be broadly interpreted as one of the two possible futures Paul sees in the original novel
Spoilers below for Dune Part Two. (And for the original novel, but that's been out since the 60s.)
He had seen two main branchings along the way ahead--in one he confronted an evil old Baron and said: "Hello, Grandfather." The thought of that path and what lay along it sickened him.
The other path held long patches of grey obscurity except for peaks of violence. He had seen a warrior religion there, a fire spreading across the universe with the Atreides green and black banner waving at the head of fanatic legions drunk on spice liquor. Gurney Halleck and a few others of his father's men--a pitiful few--were among them, all marked by the hawk symbol from the shrine of his father's skull.
"I can't go that way," he muttered. "That's what the old witches of your schools really want."
Obviously the Doylist explanation for why there are differences in the new films is that the original book is 60+ years old and has certain elements no longer in cultural vogue that were adapted out or altered to better fit modern sensibilities, and I'm all for that. But I did find it interesting that there is an explicit moment at the end of Part 2 where Paul confronts the Baron, utters the "Hello, Grandfather," line, and kills him.
This isn't necessarily because there is any one choice that Paul makes throughout the course of the two movies that leads here instead of to the jihad. In point of fact, most of the changes that drive him here are caused by choices made in the adaptations of the films.
The causal chain that leads to Paul undertaking the spice agony is his failure to predict the attack on Sietch Tabr, rather than his failure to predict Gurney's attack on Jessica; this is, of course, necessitated by the omission of the Harkonnen scheme in part 1 to impair Thufir's Mentat efficiency and potentially drive a wedge between Leto and Jessica by framing Jessica as the traitor. The final push that causes him to make the decision is, of course, the vision he experiences of an alternate future in which he didn't have to kill Jamis, with Jamis counseling him to climb as high as possible before the hunt so he can see as far as possible. (In other words, he ignores Stilgar's advice of not listening to the djinn.)
Similarly, his killing of the Baron is necessitated by the adaptational choice to keep Alia as a fetus so the audience doesn't have to deal with a two-year-old talking like an adult and killing the Baron, which they probably did because it would have been distracting.
However, I might argue that a Watsonian explanation for the film omitting the two-year time-jump lies specifically with Paul's decision to explicitly disavow the prophecy when Jessica undergoes the spice agony, and to explain to the Fremen that her survival is because of her Bene Gesserit training. He then attempts to secure his position with the Fremen through secular deeds, rather than letting Jessica carve a place for them with the BG prophesy.
This disagreement between the two of them causes her in turn to take a more active approach in cultivating Paul's status as Lisan al-Gaib, which accelerates the timeline of the Fremen being ready to submit to him. In turn, Paul focusing more strongly on guerrilla war against the Harkonnens accelerates the timeline of Feyd-Rautha being put in charge of Arrakis and cracking down hard in the north, leading to the aforementioned crisis point of Sietch Tabr being attacked without Paul's foreknowledge.
Notably, while we do see the shrine of Leto's skull in the film, we only see it in a vision; there is no moment in the movie where Paul explicitly finds his father's remains and enshrines them. Hence, going from a strict interpretation of the film's "text," this is not the future in which the legions are marked by the shrine, because the shrine doesn't exist. It is the other future. The compression of time means that Paul and Chani's relationship is much newer and more fragile and doesn't survive the strain of his apotheosis, and that's what sickens him most.
Of course, the "Hello, Grandfather" path also leads to the jihad, because Paul's tragedy is that his very existence was always going to lead to it, regardless of what he chose to do.
And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to oppose the jihad within himself, but the jihad would be. His legions would rage out from Arrakis even without him. They needed only the legend he already had become. He had shown them the way, given them mastery even over the Guild which must have the spice to exist.
Obviously none of this passes explicit, close scrutiny, and is more of a fun "if you squint and look at it a certain way it kind of makes sense." I expect that the line was put in as a nod to the original book, no more or less, but making up head-canons like this is fun for me and if even one other person finds it edifying then I consider sharing it time well spent!
#dune#dune part two#headcanon#analysis#paul atreides#lady jessica#chani#chani kynes#dune part two spoilers
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abby love spell
pairing. abby anderson x f!reader
synopsis. abby’s been handsy all damn day. can’t even take her hands off of you on patrol, where she should be focusing on something far more important...like staying alive. naively, you think watching a movie will distract her. it’s no use, really.
an. anyway slay. this is based off of this request that someone sent years, nay, millennia ago. what can i say, i was busy procrastinating writing and focusing on playing the game. again. pls enjoy, comment and reblog, etc. it makes the gay thoughts stronger<3 (not showing in tags so reblogs appreciated)
warnings. 18+. please do not read or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. hand on throat (no choking), house wife kink, f!receiving penetration, strap on sex, lots of description of spit because i’m insane. references to oral, but no description. soz. maybe next time champ.
Something was up with Abby.
She’d always been an affectionate girlfriend, but today, she was stuck to you like glue. The pair of you, alongside Manny and Nora, had left for patrol in the morning. You had been busy making sure the truck was stocked, while Abby was busy trying to find a way to keep her hands on you at all times.
You were bent over the crates, checking and re-checking the contents, when her hands had slid onto your hips, thumbs looping into the belt buckles.
You went to flinch, hand coming out to grab hers, but you felt the familiar scabs on her knuckles. The familiar bumps of her veins – the map you knew off by heart.
“Hi Abby,” you sang, patting the back of her hand. Her chest pushed against your back, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, fully aware of what you were doing.
You answered her though – anything to keep her locked against you like this. There were a couple of layers of fabric between you, but you could still feel the heat radiating off of her.
“Packing the guns.”
Abby hummed, then grabbed at your hip, using it to twist you to face her. You grunted an oft! grabbing the lapels of her jacket to stabilise yourself.
“Shit – Abby,” you scorned, but she ignored you. Instead, she flexed her arms, and you couldn’t see the lines of muscles due to her jacket, but the bulge of her biceps was there all the same.
“Already got 'em, look,” she grinned, wiggling her brows, and you patted her chest, an amused frown on your face.
“What is with you?” you asked, smoothing out her jacket. “Ben put a little something extra in your porridge this morning?”
“I’m just my regular, goofy ol’ self – what do you mean?”
Her blue gaze flicked to your top, visible from underneath your open jacket.
“That’s my top,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah – sorry,” you quickly spoke, glancing down at it, and thus not noticing the tick in Abby’s jaw. She always loved you in her clothes. Loved the way they draped over you – especially the jagged arm holes she cut into them.
The fabric would always hang loose at your sides, and she’d spend all day glimpsing at the drag of it over your chest.
“Lights went out in the East block when you were at the gym. Had to get dressed in the dark—” you’re cut off, the surprise of Abby’s head dropping against your chest rendering your vocabulary to just one word, "Abby!”
“Mm,” she hummed, pushing her forehead between your breasts, “smells like me.”
“Abby—” you said again, a giggle cracking at your lips. Your hands fumbled for her shoulders, shoving her away, or at least trying to – Abby was dead weight.
You admired her strength. Loved it, but it was times like this when it was a hindrance to your mental stability. Finally, she stretched back to her height, shit eating grin on her face.
You were too busy transfixed on her features, that you didn’t notice her hands coming out to the bottom of your coat. Suddenly, she pulled the zip up to the top, and she knocked your chin up with her knuckle, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.
You went somewhere else for a second, the drag of her tongue knocking reality out of the way. Melted, succumb to her sudden overwhelming taste -- but she pulled away too soon.
“Cold out,” she grinned, hands rubbing at the length of your now-covered chest, and you were too dazed to respond.
It was like that all. Damn. Day.
She never once stopped playing around with you.
She’d boost you up walls, hands sliding under your thighs in an attempt to push you up. Hand at the bottom of your back to signal you to walk faster, hands on your hips to pull you out of the way.
Pulling you around like a damn rag doll.
Nice shot, she’d say, when it was actually pretty average.
Good girl, she casually praised, after you’d jumped and grabbed her arm, letting her pull you up onto a roof. That one had got you -- had to take a second to gather yourself as she spoke to Manny about which direction you were going.
Got to an abandoned warehouse and she pulled you to the side, sparing a few minutes to kiss you against a stack of boxes.
What’re you doing? You’d asked, and all she said was, kissing my girlfriend.
Now, you’re trying to watch a movie together.
Or at least, you’re trying to watch a movie – she’s too busy touching you to focus on the plot.
You’re comfy on your shared bed, resting on her broad chest as you sit between her muscular thighs, and she’s keeping you there by the arm she’s got slung around your front – bicep on your shoulder – as she lazily kisses at your neck.
It’s distracting, to say the least.
“’um trying to watch,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. The movie buzzes at you – an 80’s flick, all electronic beams, and bright colours. It’s about robots, and when Mel had brandished the disk in front of you last month, you’d been eager to have a watch.
Now, the direction Abby’s mouth is taking is far more interesting.
She scatters lazy, wet smooches over your neck, pausing before she places another as if she’s painting a picture. The drag of it makes you lethargic — makes you comfy and loose in Abby’s grip.
You want nothing more than to give into her touch. You’ve spent the whole day trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of desire that she’d been pulling out of you. But you’ve been meaning to watch this movie for months.
No, you tell yourself. Focus. You breathe in, and shake your head, snapping back to the screen.
Abby hums. She’s so warm and soft -- her muscular chest surprisingly comfortable – that it’s lulling you into a sense of submission. You rest back against her, enveloped in her arms. Enveloped in the soft brush of her lips against your throat.
Focus, you repeat to yourself.
Got to give this movie back to Mel tomorrow, she’s been asking for it for weeks.
“You can watch,” Abby whispers, brushing her mouth over your ear. The wetness of her lips forces a shiver down your spine. You try and run from it, shuffling in her grip, but Abby keeps you steady – lazily locked against you with her arm slung over your shoulder.
“Just let me kiss you,” she breathes, placing a soft, delicate one on your ear lobe. Your eyes flutter again. She smells fresh from the shower. Smells clean, like her soap – pine and mint. Her hair is down too – you love it when her hair is down – and it hangs long, smelling like…strawberries? Your shampoo. Fuck fuck fuck.
You shake your head, “can’t focus on the movie when you’re kissing me like that.”
Abby smiles against your neck, and you feel it – feel it curve against your skin.
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“You’re an asshole,” you whisper, and she laughs.
“Just be quiet and watch the movie,” she orders, wide palm rubbing your bare thigh. “Quit whining.”
You grumble, mumbling something under your breath, but you do go quiet, and thankfully, she does slow her kissing. Resorts to nuzzling your neck instead, while her left hand continues to rub at your thigh.
It is nice, and you manage a couple of minutes of this, relaxing and watching the movie before you feel her hand sliding upwards.
You inhale sharply. Breathe in her scent. Wait for her to slow down. Wait for her to stop. Yet she never does.
Her long, thick fingers leisurely flutter over your bare skin as her hand inches to where you suddenly want it – God, do you – tantalisingly close to the boxers you’re wearing. Hers.
Your whole outfit is hers and you swear she’s going to touch you, or at least brush her fingers against you, but she pulls back. Slides her hand away, wide palm retreating to your knee.
Disappointment twangs.
You try not to think about it, but the buzz she’d sparked settles low in your belly.
The film continues with its garish colours and cheesy dialogue. Buzzes and crackles, its movie star taking up the screen for an up-close shot. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart.
She’s still kissing you.
Her lips are wet, exploring. Nose cold as it nuzzles against your ear lobe, breath warm as she breathes, and her tongue darts out, skimming over your throat before she kisses the spit away. You hum, hips pushing again, and Abby palms at your inner thigh.
“Shhh, baby. Can’t hear the movie with all your whimpering.”
The breath of her whisper flutters over your neck, forcing goosebumps to rise to the surface. You roll your eyes back and try and convince yourself that it’s from annoyance rather than pleasure.
Her hand starts again, faster now, smoothing over your skin, not giving you enough time as she just brushes the tips of her fingers over your underwear, and your hand jolts out.
“Abby,” you warn, grabbing it. You intertwine your fingers with hers, stopping it in its tracks — clutching it on your lap, and Abby hums a laugh into your neck.
“Not gonna let me touch you there?” she teases, using the hand you’re holding to rub at your groin.
You’re betrayed by your own knuckles, the touch forcing your thighs to clench together, and hips to jolt up at the sensation. You hate it. Love it, really. She’s winding you up like a toy.
“Abby,” you whisper, conflicted. The tv hisses its dialogue, music singing – a car crashes into a wall, and the antagonist cackles in delight. Who’s the villain again?
Abby hums a pleased, “Hm?” into your ear.
You don’t know. Just have to spit her name out. Get it out of you, before it’s back, brimming at your lips like an omission of truth.
She pushes her hand into yours, forcing your knuckles to rut against your crotch again, and fuck, your legs widen an inch, welcoming the feeling and silently begging for more.
She’s smiling, sickly sweet – you know it. Know her. Know she’s grinning from the gradual win.
You keep a hold of her hand as she rubs it into you, coaxing something warm and tingly to build between your thighs. Your face goes hot.
You suddenly can’t remember the plot of this movie. Try to come up with something convincing to Mel for when she asks for your review, but your temporal lobe has stopped working.
All you can think about is the sensation between your thighs, the comforting tickle on your chest from Abby’s hair, and the smell of her – familiar, all-consuming. She runs the tips of her teeth over the flesh of your throat, and “Abs,” you gasp, free hand grabbing onto her forearm.
Her tongue comes out, soothing the scratch from her teeth and you shift, shocked, hips bucking back against her, legs falling open, and she takes advantage – drops your hand and flattens her palm between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.
“Shit,” you gasp, clutching her strong forearm with both hands in surprise.
You can’t believe you’ve let her win.
She’s not even moving, just holding you, but the pressure is enough to force your thighs together, pussy clenching around nothing.
“Um’ gonna break up with you,” you quickly rush, eyes clenching closed. Abby cackles. Says, “Yeah?”
“Mm,” you hum, nodding, fidgeting, trying to get her to fucking move.
“Okay –“she breathes, stuffing her fingers low, thick of them pressing against you. Your mind goes fizzy. She talks.
“--After I make you come though, right?”
Your face clenches together, your mouth falling open. “You’re the worst,” you brandish, lying through your teeth. Meaning it wholeheartedly.
She hushes you, “Shhh, I know,” and watches your facial expressions change – watches you try to self-soothe.
“The worst,” you repeat, voice cracking. Somehow, Abby’s lips get closer to your ear.
“I know baby, but I’ll make it good, promise.”
Her admission forces your eyes open, and you look down at where she’s got you – thick fingers barely pushing against your clothed slit, and God, you have to – have to grind your cunt against her. One slight roll of your hips, up and up, then down, and you huff, curse under your breath because Jesus Christ.
“Or you’ll do it for me.”
“Shut up.”
“No – do it again.”
You do. With your hands holding the forearm she’s got buckled against your collarbones, you hitch your hips up, and she keeps her hand tense, making it good for you. Makes sure the ball of her palm pushes into your clit, and you sigh. A tremor shoots through your belly.
“Keep doing that,” she mutters, mouth close enough that her words echo through your brain. “I wanna see.”
She grabs a fistful of your shirt and drags it up. The cool air hits the soft skin of your belly, but Abby warms you as her arm flattens against it, hefty and comforting.
You watch her strong arm transfixed. Watch the muscles tick as her hand flexes, the scars on her skin white and shiny in the dull buzz of the TV screen.
Her fingers rub at your pussy, and your hips move, back arches, grinding against her palm, your breathing hitching and catching.
She’s barely touching your clit, just brushing it, and the sensation slowly builds, pushing, making you reach down and fumble for her hand, pushing it deeper into you.
“Abs,” you choke, and she groans. Nods against your neck and admits, “wanted to fuck you all day.”
Heat rushes over you, forces you to clench together and pathetically whimper.
“Been obsessed with me all day,” you breathe.
In your cloudy vision, you catch sight of the TV screen, the movie playing out to two people who couldn’t care less. Yet you try and focus, but it’s hard to multitask with her hand between your thighs.
The antagonist is being arrested, and you have no fucking clue as to why. Probably something to do with the car explosion – or was it a truck?
Abby carries on kissing you, sucking at the soft skin, bruising you with her sweet lips and tongue, “m’ always obsessed with you,” she purrs, the hand she’s got strapped across your collarbones soothing the skin of your shoulder.
“Mm, yeah – but something --” she rubs the ball of her palm over your clit, pushes it, this time, and your sentence catches. “Shit —” you hiss, eyes rolling back. A shiver runs down your spine as your brain short circuits. Desperately, you try to keep a hold of reality, try not to fall into the dizziness of it all.
Sometimes that happened with Abby. You didn’t mind, but you wanted to hold on to your consciousness for a little while longer. You huff, shake your head – try to remember your next sentence.
“Something different about today.”
“Had a dream that I fucked you last night.”
Oh, you think, that’ll do it.
You can’t help but grin -- delighted that you’ve managed to weave your way into her subconscious.
“Things were different, normal,” she explains, still taunting you with her hand. She’s pushing up, grinding up and down your clothed slit with an intrinsic kind of determination, using just enough pressure to make you delirious.
As she pushes her fingers low, your clit throbs. Your pussy clenches, tight and sore. You were never good at this bit. Never good at waiting. You clutch her hand, tense and fidgety, gut tightening as her fingers slowly push you to some metaphorical edge.
“Don’t laugh,” she adds, and you do, but not at her, more so at the situation. Your big, controlling Abby, asking you not to laugh at her.
“M’ not gonna laugh at you Abs,” you pant, grinding slowly, breathing deep, trying to calm yourself down for this admission she’s so ashamed of.
She leans in close, mouth against your ear as if the TV can hear. All it does is add to the pressure, her voice so close, it’s like it’s in your own head.
“I dreamt that you were my housewife,” she whispers, and fuck, that’s not what you expected.
That’s not what you expected at all.
“That I came home,” she continues, sliding her fingers up and down, up, and down, and you’re wet against her. Soaked through the cotton, her fingers damp with your slick. Jesus Christ, she’s only been playing.
Hadn’t felt like she’d been trying all that hard, really, and here you are, making her hand all wet. You both watch her play with you – draw it out, fingers dragging, your hips trying to match her rhythm.
“’n’ you were making me dinner, dressed up all pretty – heals on, nothing underneath.”
“Y-Yeah?” you breathe, quick and short, the only sound you can make besides the quiet moans you’re mumbling.
“And you waltzed up to me, said, honey, you’re home. N’ undid my tie.”
You’re wet enough that she can see the outline of your pussy through her boxers. Gently, she relaxes her palm and slides her middle finger through your slit, your legs widening, watching her, knowing what she���s doing before she does it.
“That’s it,” she mutters, finger pushing against your clit. “So fucking wet, s’so fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear, teeth on your earlobe and fuck, you nearly come.
Nearly burst, white-hot heat jolting through you, eyes clenching together, pussy clenching – want her inside of you, feels like you’ve never wanted her more than you do now.
She carries on, languidly rolling your clit around, tenderly pushing at the nerve.
“Then you dropped to your knees,” she coos into your ear, and fuck, in your haze you didn’t see her move. Didn’t feel her slide her hand over your throat, holding you still. You swallow against her palm.
“and unlaced my boots. Took them off for me, so good. So helpful.”
She keeps the pace steady. Hits the nerve at such an angle that you can’t run from pressure. Your pussy gushes, and words fail you.
Abby kisses your cheek, “You okay baby? Gone quiet on me.”
“I think um gonna come,” you quickly admit, voice cracking. You’re clenched so tight that it hurts. Just begging for something, anything, to fill the need she’s building. Your thighs twitch and you feel her smile on your cheek, curved cheekily. She ignores you. Carries on.
“Dinner on the table for me, my favourite. Dessert in the fridge, beer on ice. Your pretty little face so excited that I was back.”
Your small voice shatters through her spiel -- “Did you fuck me against the table?” you whimper, imagining it. “With my dress and heels still on?”
Abby groans. Her fingers break their rhythm for a second, go sloppy – get distracted. You think about her bending you over the kitchen table, your hair in her fist and her strap in her hand.
She gets her rhythm back and picks up speed. Rubs your clit in tight, controlled circles, and you feel yourself get closer. There’s a familiar ache at the bottom of your belly.
“Yeah baby, I did,” she breathes. “Treated you like a lady. Made you come on my cock so quick that my dinner was still warm.”
“Abby,” you burst, cutting her off. Fuck, you hear it – hear how desperate you are.
“You don’t wanna watch your movie?” she teases, using the hand on your throat to push your chin to her. She looks at you pitifully, blue eyes blown wide.
“No,” you whine, teeth chewing at your bottom lip, making it swollen. You manage to shake your head, and she pulls your lip from your teeth, using her thumb to slide your spit over your chin.
“Don’t wanna see how it ends?” she further taunts.
“N-No,” you sob, nearly crying. Actually, no, you are crying. Yeah, your cheeks are definitely damp with something.
You sniff, and Abby goes soft. For a fleeting second, she switches -- kisses away your tears, and says, “shh, okay. I know sweetheart, I know.”
She pushes her forehead against yours, and you’re lulled into a false sense of security before she pulls her fingers away.
You shatter, gasp “No!”, and Abby kisses you, shuts you up, hands tugging your boxers down, quickly pulling them over your knees and discarding them onto the floor somewhere.
She tugs your thighs open, too, fully exposing you, and the cool air hits your damp pussy just as she stuffs her fingers back, sliding her thick middle finger through your slick before pushing it into your swollen, aching hole.
The world tips on its axis. For a brief, cataclysmic moment, you go somewhere else. Mouth open, eyes clenched close. The obscene pressure is overwhelming, and you clench around her finger, so tight that she groans into your mouth.
“Jesus,” she curses, “ease up baby, lemme make you feel good.”
It takes all of your willpower to loosen up, to relax. When you do, she slides out, then in, gently, slowly fingering you, warming you up, before she adds another finger, wet enough for the stretch, and you go blank.
You don’t say anything – can’t, no words, only sounds, loud and against her mouth. Cursing her out, moaning her name – garbled and sloppy, hands clutching her forearm, nails digging into her skin -- all sensation.
You can hear how wet you are, hear your pussy squelching around her fingers.
“'m gonna come,” you gasp, and Abby nods, kisses you, tastes your spit and coaches you through it,
“That’s it, baby, just let it all out.”
Seconds later, it rushes over you.
Sucks you under and spits you out, your hips bucking against Abby’s quick-moving fingers as you come, wet and hot, spilling over and soaking the sheets. “m’ my god, my god,” you whine, the white-hot feeling never-ending.
Legs shaking, and Abby watches, praises you, says, “oh fuck, look at that,” and you can’t, it’d be too much. Instead, you whine against her cheek, back arching, body shuddering, her name spilling from your lips like spit.
“Abby,” you babble, “Abby, feels so fuckin’ good, you make it so good,” you drool, words sloppy, pussy clenching tight.
The sensation continues. You breathe her name again, Abby Abby Abby – a prayer on your swollen lips. Please, you whisper — please what?
Abby won’t let you come down. Your sensitivity spirals, but Abby doesn’t stop. Drags her thick fingers through your clenched walls, and you gasp, hands grasping out to grab hers.
You clutch her wet hand in your limp grip, whimpering, please, against her mouth.
“Okay,” she breathes, barely there. “Okay, I’ll stop.”
She pulls her fingers out of you slowly, kissing your forehead as you make a soft humming sound. You’re still so sensitive.
The heat has cooled, but the feeling still lingers, and Abby kisses your forehead again, quieting the dull ache that’s washing over you. Gently, she pulls her hand away from yours, bringing her slick fingers up to her lips.
You watch through half-lidded lids as she runs her mouth over them, humming in contentment. Pink tongue darting over the digits – you flush, your own tongue licking at your bottom lip as you study her.
You curl your legs together, thighs wet, feeling the pressure that’s still there. Abby sees you wince. She studies your features -- notes that your eyes haven’t lost their glaze, and now they’re edged with something wild, as if you’ve gotten a taste, but not enough to scratch the itch.
There’s a familiar softness to you, too. Almost lethargic, as you run your nail over her forearm, eyes flicking over her strong jaw and flushed cheeks.
“You were messing with me all day.”
It’s a whisper, words tentative. Abby licks her lips, noting how your glassy eyes follow the movement.
“Messing?” she repeats, inching forward, and pressing her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a small, contented smile on your lips, then lick them, teeth coming out to chew.
“Hm.”
“You like when I mess with you?” she teases, and you hum again. The smile you’re donning builds, bubbling into a nod.
She can’t help but reach out, and gently run her thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth. You sigh, body leaning into her touch.
“You’re very distracting…” She slides her wide palm over your cheek, dragging it to the back of your neck, then holds you there, inching her head to the left and brushing her mouth over yours – a small hint of you on her lips.
“…S ’almost dangerous.”
“’ m sorry,” you quickly breathe, come drunk. Drunk on Abby fucking Anderson. In your hazy and small headspace, you suddenly feel bad. She must know because she shakes her head, “don’t be.”
Her breath flutters over your lips, hand flexes at the back of your neck. That pressure that she’d subsided, is back. Feels suddenly critical.
“s’my fault for thinking I have any self-control.”
You want to kiss her. The desire sweeps over you, crashing like a wave. You go to move, but she whispers, “wanted to fuck you in that abandoned warehouse,” and all you can do is ask, “Why didn’t you?”
A laugh rattles through her.
“nearly did.”
You think about the blood on her hands, think about the smear of it as she pulled your hips against hers, mouth hot and desperate. She’d sucked a quick bruise under your earlobe, and you’d melted.
Electric had shot through your belly, warming between your thighs.
Abby, you’d moaned, and she’d just about growled. Teeth had nipped at your tender skin, just this side of mean, and your brain had short-circuited.
You forgot about the impending danger around the corner — all you could think about was Abby, with her wandering hands and soft lips. The way she licked away the scratch and kissed you again, said, we gotta get this thing over with so I can take you to bed.
“Would have, too, if I wasn’t so damn responsible.”
She tuts at herself, annoyed at her regiment. She licks the spit off of her lip and you pout, I wanted to do that, you think.
“I like the responsible Abby,” you manage to mutter, bumping your mouth against hers, “She keeps me safe.”
Abby hums. Her eyes close as if she’s bathing in your omission. Abby does keep you safe. She’s strong, capable — a brilliant teammate and when she needs to be, a leader. She quiets the anxious thumping of your heart, and when she’s got you like this — floaty and soft — quiets it completely.
“Please kiss me,” you suddenly breathe, overwhelmed with the desire to have your mouth on her. “I’ve been waiting patiently.”
At the back of your neck, you feel her hand flex. She brushes her mouth against yours again, gently teasing, “You have, haven’t you?” her brows raise – followed by a sickly sweet smirk.
There’s something about this space you’re in that makes even the smallest of mockeries big and meaningful.
“I have,” you just about plead, and Abby’s smirk twists, a flash of longing bleating over her features, before she catches your lips, kissing you deep and long -- your resulting moan cracking through the bedroom.
Her tongue comes in, wet and warm, forcing you closer — forcing you to just about clamber into her lap, damp inner thighs sliding against her sweatpants.
Abby pulls away, eyes dark and cloudy as she whispers, “Want me to get the strap?” and the only answer you find is, yes.
You watch as Abby drags the leather straps up her thighs, then crawls onto the bed, buckling up one side as she moves. Immediately, with an instinct she’s drilled into you, you get onto your knees to do the other, hands fumbling around the leather.
You’ve done this countless times before. Know what notch she likes it on. Knows she likes it tight, likes when the leather stretches over her thighs, marring them red. She lubes it up as you buckle her up tightly.
“So helpful – such a good girl, you know that, huh?”
She moves to kiss you, and you giggle into her mouth, catching the back of her head as she pushes you into the bed. Her strap brushes over you, and you sigh, humming at the sudden wet sensation.
She tastes like you. Tastes like musk and mint and Abby. You tongue your way into her mouth, suddenly wanting more. Wanting her, carnally. Spent all day with her -- you spend most days with her, but it’ll never be enough.
You break away from her, slowly blinking, watching a trail of spit connect the two of you. She’s propped up on one elbow, watching you.
Her eyes are navy blue under the shadow of the light, the freckles on her nose hidden, but you know they’re there. Know how they sprinkle out evenly as if they were painted there before she was handed off to her mother.
“I like being helpful,” you admit. Something flashes in her eyes. Her features shift, once playful, now soft, and her hand comes out, brushing your hair away from your forehead.
Instinctively, you move into her palm. It’s warm – calloused, familiar. You move to nuzzle your nose into it.
“I like that you let me come along on patrols,” you whisper.
You don’t see it, but Abby’s face twitches, “I don’t let you do anything – I want you there.”
There’s a beat before you respond, too busy running your nose over her palm. When you turn to her, you flash her a cheeky smile, “So you can mess around with me.”
Abby sniffs a laugh, but she shakes her head, “So you can save my ass when I eventually fuck up.”
“s ’never happened. I don’t remember.”
“Selective memory.”
Her fingers move, forefinger resting under your chin and thumb coming up to slip over your bottom lip. Abby swears she sees your eyes glaze over again. She loves this. Loves when you get like this. It lets her know that you trust her, trust her to do what’s best.
“You with me?” she just about purrs. You hum. She watches as your body goes limp like she’s pressed a hidden button. You shift, your legs open wide, and your breasts bounce with the movement. If you were watching, you’d see eyes shift over your body – hungry and desperate.
You breathe in a sigh, and it rattles in your chest.
“Yeah—” you whisper, “---think so. You make me feel so dizzy, Abby.”
Your eyes flutter closed, tongue coming out to catch her thumb. Your teeth go over it, and the hood of her nail drags over your gums, your bottom teeth pushing at the soft flesh. The sensation goes directly between Abby’s thighs. Still, she shows her usual concern. She cocks her head to the side.
“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, yeah?”
“Yeah Abby,” you whisper around her finger, “s’never too much though. You know me.”
“Promise?” she asks, ignoring you.
“Promise,” you repeat, then, “I can still taste myself on you.”
Your tongue closes around her finger, wetting it – warm and soft. Abby briefly thinks: this is what she feels like inside. She goes red at the thought. An ache builds – she suddenly wants to be nestled deep, watching you come undone again.
You suck her finger further, eyes still closed, lost in the motion. The intoxication makes you grab a hold of her wrist, keeping her steady as spit pools under your lips, dripping towards your chin.
“Is this what I did in your dream?” you suddenly ask, blinking up at her. You catch her dark eyes, and she notes the spit that’s drooling over your tits.
“When I was on my hands and knees for you?”
All of the willpower Abby had left snaps in two. She suddenly shifts, moving you by shoving her big, strong hands under your thighs and spreading you open.
“Lemme fuck you,” she babbles, hitching your hips up. You watch her try to gather her nerve, but she talks and talks as she shuffles you around – “I gotta fuck you baby. Gotta – gotta make it good, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding, seeing her lose her cool.
“I gotta.”
“Okay,” you whisper again. You reach over with your hand, smoothing it over her cheek, begging her to look at you, but she just takes the hand and tries to get you situated. Moves the pillow, and makes sure your hips are pushed wide enough.
“Yeah – I just, fuck. Yeah, fuck. Lemme – please?” she suddenly stops, like she’s caught herself before she falls off the ledge completely. The soft skin of your thumb smoothes over her cheek, and you nod, flexing your hips up, “fuck me, Abby.”
The roles shift and ripple. When Abby gets so turned on, she gets desperate — pleads and begs instead of tells.
But when she’s got the strap stuffed against your wet hole, the roles snap back.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, suddenly overwhelmed. You’re still a little sensitive, and now lightheaded and dizzy with delirium, all you can do is pout against her pretty mouth, eyes glazed and wide.
“Shhh, baby. Shh shh shh,” she punctuates. She looks down at where you connect, and slides the strap across your sopping folds, listening for your reaction. You huff, whispering her name – then jolt up when she brushes it against your clit, hands coming for the back of her head again.
“Abs,” you gasp, scuffed knees pressing on her hips.
“Um gonna make it good, okay?” she soothes, “don’t I always make it good for you?”
She does. Abby knows you like the back of her palm. Knows all your buttons, knows when to push them – how. Knows when it’s too much, or when it’s not enough. Her eyes flash open, blue and alive, and she kisses you as she stuffs the head against your hole, slowly sinking in, burying deep.
“Oh my fucking God,” you sob against her mouth, clenching, so fucking full that you have to arch your back. Your breath hitches, letting Abby know that you’re filled up tight.
“Abby,” you whine, hands reaching for your tits. You squeeze them, fidgeting, going a little frantic at the sensation. Abby watches – sees.
“Shhh, shhh, shh,” she hushes, brushing her lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. The tenderness makes you sob, the taste of her tongue intoxicating. It lulls you, quiets you, and she pulls away, ordering, “Hands in my hair, baby, know you like em’ there.”
You do as she says, sniffling, trying to calm yourself down. She’s dragged this out slowly, though. You hadn’t realised how much you wanted her until she stopped.
She reaches over you, grabs a pillow, ordering, “Hips up, high, sweetheart – that’s it,” before she stuffs it under you, the movement jostling her cock, but when you relax back, legs high on her back, Abby stuffs you again, the new position forcing the strap to hit something devastating.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck – “you curse, eyes flashing white. “‘um gonna come so fast, Abs.”
“S’okay baby,” she soothes, slowly pulling out of you. She brushes her mouth against yours as she whispers, “I’ll just fuck you until you can’t anymore.”
God, it must take minutes.
Must be minutes – maybe even seconds – of her slowly fucking up into you, splitting you open on her cock, before you’re feeling the familiar swell flood your pussy.
You’ve got your fingers laced in her long, blonde strands, and you’re pretty sure you’re scraping your nails against her scalp, but Abby’s too busy murmuring how pretty you are to notice.
In your almost drunken haze, you notice how pink her lips are – all swollen from her teeth and wet with spit – and you can’t keep your eyes off of them. They spill compliments all over you.
Bathe you, before pressing them to your mouth, swallowing your desperate cries.
Abby’s got one hand at the nape of your neck, and the other is clutched around your left knee, keeping it locked up against her upper back. The position means you can’t run from her.
She’s an all-consuming presence, and it’s almost too much. She moves her hand, but you don’t dare move your knee. It’s locked there, and the position she’s put you in makes you delirious. Then she doubles the pressure with her thick fingers against her clit.
“Jesus – fuck, Abby,” you curse, eyes rolling back, the world going dark. You’re so wet that she can’t catch a grip, and her fingers swirl sloppily over your clit as her face clenches together, as if she’s doing it to herself.
“So fuckin’ wet,” she grunts against your lips, her face a snarl. You don’t see it, but she shakes her head. Shakes her head and then speeds up, fueled by the desire to make you wetter. Make it worse better for you.
The change in speed forces your eyes open. You grab onto her shoulder, hiccuping a sob, wet, hot heat pulsating between your legs.
Your eyes roll back again, mouth comes open, fingers clench tight and Abby sees it. Knows you’re about to come so hard that she’ll feel it. “Abby,” you gasp, and she nods. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips and soothes you with, “I know.”
“S’gonna be – b-big, fuck. M’ clenching so fuckin’ tight.”
Abby feels your back arch into her, your tits pushing against her chest. She keeps at her steady rhythm – tilts your pelvis and bucks her hips with an unrelenting tempo, catching the sight of the strap, white from you.
Your orgasm blindsides you.
You’re silent as you come. Mouth open against hers, clenching so tense and tight around her cock that it almost hurts. Then, Abby sees you release, gushing over her cock as your hips stutter and legs shake, your orgasm washing over you, knocking you for a loop.
She groans at her sight, then hears you sob, strangled, followed by, oh my god Abby, oh my fuckin’ – then it’s all whimpers, your pussy still pulsating around her strap.
Abby slows her pace.
She ignores the pressure between her own thighs, and instead, kisses the drool off of your lips, shakingly saying, never seen you come so hard like that twice, s’gotta be a record, and you’re so fucked out that you don’t even laugh.
Your eyes are glazed over, sweat pooling at your hairline, and your mouth is still hanging open as if you’re trying to find something to say. Abby kisses it shut. Tries, again, to ignore the throbbing of her clit. Tries to ignore the desire to fuck you into the mattress and make herself come.
You’re still shaking for fucks sake, but Abby can’t stop. She’s already pushing it by slowing, humming against your mouth, the sounds almost a whimper.
Her face is snarled together, jaw clenched, and she sees your brow furrow. Feels you clench your fists to her chest, wondering why she’s still fucking you. When she drops her head into your neck, you understand.
“I’m sorry—” she sobs, wide palms dragging under your shoulders and latching onto them. “I’m – fuck – feels so good.”
You snap out of your delirium. Or it twists at least. You spread your legs, ignoring the pressure behind your clit – the sensitivity that never had a chance to subside. Now, you’re here for Abby.
“S’okay baby,” you drawl, voice trembling, but fuck, your girlfriend is desperate. You hitch your hips up and press against her tight, so she has to grind against you to fuck you, and Abby loses it.
The added pressure against her clit forces her to moan, the sound muffled by your throat.
“Use me, okay?” you whisper against the shell of her ear, hands in her hair, clutching her to you. “use me to come.”
“S-shit, okay,” she whimpers. “Okay okay okay—” lost to her pleasure, Abby sloppily rocks into you. She picks up the speed, sinking into your wet and swollen hole, splitting you open and moaning your name so loud that it rattles through you.
“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, then, “holy fuck, um gonna come.”
Heat rushes over you, overwhelming. All consuming. You’re suddenly filled with the urge to kiss her.
Taste her on your tongue, and just this side of mean, you use her hair to move her, dragging your mouth against hers, letting you see her red, sweaty face and fucked out eyes.
“That’s it, baby,” you whisper, nodding, meeting her thrusts as she fucks you. “You gonna come inside of me?” you whisper, pouting, “You gonna fill me up?”
Realistically, you know she can’t. So does she, but that doesn’t stop her from nodding, hips rocking against yours. Going, “Jesus – fuck. Fuckin’ dirty.”
She hides her red face in your shoulder again, as if she’s almost embarrassed by how desperate she is.
“My fuckin’ dirty girl,” and grunts, and she punctuates it with a snap of her hips, knocking the sensitivity up tenfold.
It feels so good, and if she carries on this way, you’re likely to come again, but by the clutch of her fingers and drag of her breathing, you know she’s not going to last long enough.
Know that it’s not about you, though. Know that she’ll likely catch her breath for a second and begin all over again. Abby was like that. One was never enough.
Her high-pitched, shaky breathing brings you back. It’s there – even if you can’t see her face, you know it.
“Gonna come for me Abby?” you whisper. Then, with your wet mouth against her ear, you whimper, please baby, please come for me.
She does. You feel her body clench against you, a strangled gasp muffled against your neck, and then she’s shaking, orgasm washing over her and taking her under.
You soothe her through it. Rub her muscular back, drag your nails over her spine, and kiss the side of her head. When the aftershocks cool off, she laughs. The sound rumbles against your neck, shocked and alive.
“Holy shit,” she curses, giving your neck a sloppy kiss. Your skin is still electric, but it slowly sparks out, bottoming to a dull delicious numbness. A slow, lazy smile pulls at your lips.
Your head is still a little fuzzy.
Abby hands slide out from under your shoulders, and she presses them besides you, pushing herself up, long blonde hair falling around your head like a curtain. Her cheeks are blushed red, eyes wiry and alive.
You feel yourself staring at her. Abby stares back. She shifts idly, cocking her head to the side and leaning to kiss you. With her tongue in your mouth, she whispers, “’m gonna move.”
Gently, she slips out of you, kissing away the scrunch of your brows and pout to your lips. She quickly unbuckles the strap, pushing it to the side before leaning down again, wide palms pushing your thighs apart to try and distill the pressure there.
“Okay?” she breathes, putting all of her weight onto her elbows.
“Mm,” you hum dreamily, leaning up to give her a messy kiss, “That was really hot.”
Abby kisses back, humming in agreement, “Feel like I just found out the meaning of life.”
“What?” you laugh, scrunching your face at her.
You raise your brows, laughing, “the meaning of life is coming while fucking me?”
“Yep,” she grins, bumping her nose to yours. She turns to the TV, the credits rolling.
“Should we start the movie again?” she asks sincerely, but you shake your head, fingers tightening in her hair.
Lazily, you slip your tongue into her mouth, wrapping your legs around her lower back and using your feet to push her ass into you. She groans, trying to catch up, but you pull away just when she matches your rhythm.
You lick your lips and lean back, your mouth curling into a delicious grin. Abby watches you reach out, your thumb running over her bottom lip, and she catches it in her mouth just as you say, “Still wanna taste you.”
more abby smut
#abby anderson x reader smut#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson imagine#abby anderson tlou#abby anderson tlou2#the last of us#the last of us hbo#abby anderson the last of us#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson fan fic#tlou2 abby anderson
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i will wait for you | leah williamson x reader & barcelona team x reader
INCOMPLETE SPOILER !!!!!!!
i’m so sorry i’ve been inactive this weekend i’ve been trying my v harfest to catch up on my course work ☠️
haven’t written anything or even had a chance to look at my reqs so thought i’d bless y’all with a little draft that i can’t even manage to complete so enjoy a little spoiler of a req that i got x
it’s just pure pain, angst and probably going to end in smut but we’ll see 👀
You knew that this time when you went down it was different. All you’d been doing was sprinting up the sideline, your eyes focused solely on Alexia as she shot the ball a few feet in front of you. It was a good pass, a good line that had you heading straight for goal, hopefully it would secure your first in the Champions League final against Wolfsburg. It took a mere split second before you collapsed on the ground in complete agony. The umpire's whistle had blown almost immediately, your teammates huddling around you to give you some privacy whilst the medic made their way over to you, everyone trying to figure out what had happened. You were writhing against the pitch, screaming in pain that no one knew the source of. All you could do was sob and reach for your ankle as the medics tried their hardest to assess you and get you loaded onto a stretcher.
You were in unfathomable pain, resulting in the team's medics making the executive decision to pump you full of pain meds before they wheeled you off to the x-ray machines. You were a sobbing mess, the realisation kicking in that you were in so much pain and the realisation that your Champions League dream was over.
The x-rays confirmed your suspicions and you watched from the medical room as your team secured three goals against your opponents and when the whistle finally blew, they all became Champions. You watched as they all fell to their knees on the pitch, they were back to back champions, you were bedridden.
Instead of being out partying with the rest of the girls, you were put on the first flight back to Barcelona, you were in Bilbao, so they loaded you directly onto a medical helicopter and flew straight back to Barcelona. You passed out on the ride their, with the mix of disappointment and drugs mixing in your system to send you into a discomforting slumber.
When you woke up you were in a hospital in Barcelona. A series of doctors outlining to you the severity of your injury and what the coming weeks looked like for you. You tried your hardest to listen to their drawl, but it all went in one ear and came out the other. After they were done you insisted on being discharged, even with their warning words about the fact that it would be best if you stayed for another day or so, just before someone returned to take you back to your apartment and look after you whilst you were on such intense pain meds. You ignored their pleas, insisting that you go home by yourself, you didn’t want nor need their pity.
You got yourself home, in an uber, high off of the pain meds that were the only thing keeping you on your feet. You’d never liked crutches, found them extremely awkward and hard to use. You’d never believed that statement more than right now, as you attempted to crutch your way up the stairs of your apartment so you could make it to your bed. You were woozy on your feet, the drugs you were on making you sway as you tried your very hardest to focus on the step in front of you.
It took everything you had to make it to your bed, the pain, the tears, the pure need you had in your soul to just do it by yourself. You’d never felt more alone in your life, your team was too busy celebrating, your family was too busy doing other things to even think about you. By the time you made it to your bed you were completely spent, throwing yourself down into the sheets and falling into a deep sleep.
You awoke a horrific amount of times during the night, trembles of pain washing across your body directly from your ankle. It was gut wrenching pain, but you’d left your pain meds downstairs and you hardly trusted yourself on crutches during the day, let alone in the middle of the night. So you stayed in your bed, writhing in pain all throughout the night, willing for the sun to arise so you could finally get access to the medication you need so heavily. You knew there were people you could call, even if your teammates were in a different part of Spain. You knew that they would do anything to make you feel better, but you just couldn’t manage it, the guilt of taking away from their win was too much for you to bear.
When the sun finally did rise you tried your hardest to push yourself out of your bed and onto your crutches, but your legs felt like jelly. So instead of doing the rash thing and calling somebody, you pushed yourself down onto the floorboards of your room and started the gruelling process of pushing yourself against the floorboards and towards your stairs.
If crutches managed to hurt your ankle, then scooting yourself against the floors of your house was gruelling, a true struggle. Getting down your stairs was a nightmare, every single bump or nudge against the boot your ankle had been secured in was agony. The clunky thing was no help, it weighed down your ankle and made it a far bigger target for lodging itself on the edge of a stair.
Eventually, with tears flowing freely down your face you made it down the stairs and scooted yourself into the kitchen of your house, where you’d left the medications given to you by your doctors the day before. You reached up to your kitchen bench, clawing whatever you could reach for off of the ledge and brushing them down onto the floor beside you. It took all of your energy to get the medications down on the floor next to you, so you were relieved when you saw that you’d managed to scoop up the oxycodone pills from above you, which you knew would be enough to dull some of the pain you were feeling. You dry swallowed three pills, popping them into your mouth and forcing them down.
You looked across at the staircase in your apartment, your eyes were slowly becoming hooded and you knew you weren’t going to be able to make it back up the stairs, plus your apartment floor wasn’t that uncomfy right now?
You couldn’t help but slump against your kitchen bench, sleep and pain overwhelming you as you passed out on the floor of your kitchen.
“Y/n/n, babygirl, wake up for me.”
It was the feeling of a hand shaking against your face that brought you back to the world. In your drug induced haze it took a few seconds for your eyes to focus on the person responsible for your awakening.
“Ale, what are you doing here?”
You pushed her hand away from you, feeling a little bit vulnerable in your current position as she looked down at you from her position standing above you. Alexia was frowning down at you, and just as you’d finished taking her in you began to realise a lot of your team was piled into your apartment, you couldn’t make out everyone though.
“Bebita, we haven’t heard from you since the game, we’ve all been worried sick, you haven’t been answering anybody’s calls or texts.”
I tried my best to work up whatever courage and dignity I had, which was hard considering I was dressed in an oversized Barcelona champions shirt and whatever shorts the hospital must have been able to find to put me in.
“I’m fine, you can all leave, go back to celebrating.”
They all looked some form of hungover, they should be out partying, celebrating the win, instead they’d congregated in your house, which was honestly making you feel so much worse.
“I won’t have that tone pequeño, you clearly aren’t fine, if you were you wouldn’t be passed out on your kitchen floor after ghosting everybody for the last two days. I know you are in pain, but that does not warrant you pushing everybody out.”
Alexia’s voice was harsh, the voice she reserved for when she was making orders on the pitch, a voice that would normally have you quivering under her, but the mixture of the pain and embarrassment you were feeling was enough fuel for your drugged up state to use.
“Joder! I’m fine, go party, go celebrate, Estoy Bien, Déjame en paz.”
Your tone wouldn’t go over well, you knew that but the confidence from your statement was apparently fuel for you to stand yourself up from the ground on your own. You felt the shooting pain going up your leg almost immediately, as you struggled to balance with only one functioning foot. Alexia knitted her brows together, clenching her jaw as you watched her try to keep her composure, you never pushed a hungover Alexia, it never had a good result.
“I understand that you are in pain and that you don’t want to acknowledge. You need help though, and we have all come to give it, so please just let us.”
I looked at Alexia, she was standing a foot away from me, pure anguish and concern on her face.
“I’m fine, leave me alone, I know you all have celebrations to get back to, so please, go.”
I took a step on my injured foot, a big mistake that had me groaning in pain and Alexia’s arms coming up to my sides to stop me from going any further.
“Bebita, you are a part of that winning team, you deserve to be out celebrating with us, you clearly aren’t fine and we are all here to support you through that, however you need.”
You shook Alexia off of you, trying your very hardest to balance on a foot that wasn’t working,
“Vete a la mierda. Leave, get out of my house.”
You were getting annoyed and aggressive fast and quickly, something that your teammates seemed to pick up on.
“Leahhas called me, probably a 100 times, she’s worried sick about you, you can’t push everybody out forever, just because you are injured does not make you unlovable.”
Alexia’s words echoed against the walls of my house, her voice having risen to meet mine.
“Get out of my house, right now, before I call the police.”
Alexia exhaled deeply, she shooed the rest of the women that had piled themselves into my house out, leaving just you and her. You leant back against your kitchen bench, needing the assistance to keep you on your two feet, the pressure on your ankle becoming too much for you to be able to handle.
“You need help, I don’t care whether or not you know it but you do, we found you passed out on your kitchen floor and if that isn’t a big enough indicator then I don’t know what is. You can push us all out till the cows come home but it’s not achieving anything. You're going to let me take you up the stairs and back to bed, I’ll set you up with your meds and ice packs, I don’t care how much you hate it but I am going to be here for you whether or not you want me to be here.”
You glared at Alexia, your jaw set as a stone as the older women that had quickly become your adoptive older sister at Barca looked at you pointedly. There was no room for argument in her voice, like a drill sergeant.
Alexia walked towards you, taking you in her arms and letting your silent tears drip onto her shirt as she lifted you up, removing the pressure from your foot and carrying you up your stairs and to your bedroom. You cried silently into her, annoyed by the loss of your dignity so openly in front of your teammates. She helped to tuck you into your bed, elevating your ankle onto a pillow and very gently easing it out of the boot it was strapped into. The doctor’s had wrapped it up in bandages to keep it secure, so you were able to remove it from the boot to ice it. Alexia pressed an ice pack to your ankle, before procuring your meds and a drink bottle out of nowhere and leaving them on your bedside.
“Anything else you need?”
You glared straight out at the wall in front of you, lying back in your bed and refusing to look at Alexia.
“Leave.”
Alexia tried her hardest over the next week to get you to let her in. You pushed her out. You refused to leave bed besides going to the bathroom, which was not just detrimental to your physical health but also your mental health. You weren’t on your phone at all, refused to even look at it because you didn’t want to see any of the pity that was being thrown your way. Alexia tried her hardest, she came into your room at 7am every morning, prepped with breakfast that you never ate and your meds that were the only thing keeping you pain free at the moment. She tried her hardest to get you out of bed to go to your recovery appointments, but you refused to leave. Alexia was at her wits end. You needed surgery but a part of your surgery prep was that you needed to do some kind of recovery, that you needed to be strong enough to withstand that kind of toll on your body. You were depressed, something that was detrimental to your wellbeing going into surgery, if you asked the Catalan, you needed a kick up the ass, but nothing was working. Eventually, after day seven, you’d become mobile enough that she didn’t have any excuse to stay in your house anymore, you’d been very vocal about that so she’d left, apprehensively, unsure about what more she could do for you.
“Alexia, I’ve told you to fuck off.”
The sound of somebody's shoes scuffing against your doormat downstairs and your front door closing behind you was enough to make you unhappy. After seven gruelling days you’d finally gotten rid of Alexia, but now she was back and it was making you stir crazy. You could just make out the sound of her bare feet trudging up the stairs, nearing your bedroom door and opening it up.
“Leave me alone.”
You buried your head further into your pillows, pillows that were now beginning to smell a little bit too much like your. You pulled your head as physically close to the pillows as you could, twisting your body as far as you could without dislodging your ankle from its spot elevated on your bed.
“I’m not Alexia, if that helps?”
Your head shot out of your pillow and for a split second you wondered if the oxy delirium was getting to you. Alexia had been weaning you off the hard drugs, giving you less each day and replacing it with ibuprofen, which had the reverse effect on you, making you more delusional than you had been on the full strength drugs, you had more energy now though then you had a few days ago, so you could have just blamed it on you being more awake and present.
“Leah?”
You’d been avoiding your phone for a number of reasons, but number one on the list had been your girlfriend. For some reason, she was always the last person you wanted to talk to when you got injured, it made you feel guilty, ungrateful, especially considering she’d just missed out on playing you in the final this year.
“Hey baby girl.”
She looked exhausted, like she’d just gotten off a plane and it made you feel bad. Leah had spent a lot of time in your home in Barcelona, international breaks, time off, injury time, every time was enjoyable, but this time felt different.
“W-What are you doing here?”
Leah made her way further into your room, walking over to your shades and opening them a little bit, allowing more light then the very little amount that was peaking through the bottom of your shades.
“Alexia called, she said that you were in bad shape, that you needed someone and that someone had to be me. So I got on the first flight I could. She said that what you’d done was serious, full ankle ligament tears, all four of them and that you were struggling, so I got here as soon as I could.”
You let your bottom lip worry in between your teeth, as you watched Leah make her way around your room, picking up the loose articles of clothing that were on your floor, memories of Alexia fighting with you to get changed ran through your mind, a daily battle that always ended with you crying and screaming at her. Leah flung it all into your laundry basket, a little task that she always gave herself, always scared that one of us would trip and fall on a piece of clothing in the middle of the night, that fear now having escalated with crutches being brought into the picture.
“I’m fine, I would have called if I needed you, you're supposed to be with the team, they need you now more than I do.”
Leah turned back around to you, shedding her hoodie and slinging it into the laundry basket before addressing your sentence.
“Would you have? Because you didn’t and you seemed to be struggling pretty hard, Alexia called me, balling her eyes out because she was so scared that you were going to never leave bed. The girls need me, but you need me more right now, whether you know it or not, so I’m here, whatever you need, I’m here, for as long as you need.”
Leah sat herself down on the opposite edge of my bed, the one that was cold and empty. You looked at her anxiously, trying to decide whether or not you could fall into her right now, if she would catch you.
“I’m fine.”
#woso#woso community#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#wfc barcelona#barcelona femeni#barcelona women#barca femeni#barca femeni x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas
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Focus II
Salma Paralluelo x Reader
focus I
summary~ You move on, she doesn’t. spoiler, you don’t really move on.
your new normal was everything but fulfilling. This pointlessness cycle of living was eating you alive.
Driving to training, kicking a ball for a few hours and eating with teammates that didn’t even trust you with the ball. You didn’t have a place in the starting line-up anymore and everyone ignored you. You were becoming invisible, a nobody.
Days were especially hard when you were free. You didn’t go outside and no one was contacting you. You felt loneliness on a whole new level. When you had broken up with Salma, there were still people around you but now you’d scared them off. They didn’t know what to do with you anymore.
Real Madrid has been your home for far too long, and somewhere you knew that. Deep down knew you needed an extreme change. But you held on to this ideal idea with a firm grip.
Real Madrid wasn’t your home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time now. And the team made that clear when they sat you down.
“Look, we just think you need a different challenge, a fresh start.” Olga said, a warm smile on her lips. “It’ll be better for you.” Misa rubbed your back soothingly.
You rolled you eyes at that and scoffed. “It’ll be better for us all.” Misa corrected herself this time. You heard agreement across the room. Clearly they had wanted this for a while now.
You were already out of their lives in their heads, they just needed you completely gone. Out of sight out of mind.
So you moved, it wasn’t like you had a choice in this. Man City was running low on defenders and payed the biggest transfer fee. From your sunny Spain to the rainy Manchester weather.
Stepping out of that warm sticky plane you felt your warm sweat turning your heated body cold. Refreshing. You needed to see this new chapter as a new beginning, another chance.
When Salma heard you left Real she was puzzled. No way you would’ve left your dream club just like that, with no fight. And what she had expected was confirmed.
The striker heard Lucy and Ona talk about the transfer. “Why did she leave? She loved Real with her whole heart, that was her home.” Lucy asked.
Ona sighed, “We all know it wasn’t going her way there, she was stuck. I think she might’ve just left because there wasn’t anyone to keep her here anymore, in Spain.” she explained.
It was silent for a moment before Lucy spoke again. “She was head over heals for her, wasn’t she.”
“I know, she still is. I spoke to Olga earlier, she said that she just wasn’t functioning anymore. She had to leave Spain.” the Spaniard said quietly.
Salma wasn’t aware of this. Why would you break up with her if you still loved her?
She wanted to talk to you. Tell you that she had wanted to keep your relationship more private, out of the spotlights. That she wanted you just for herself. But then you cut her off, you told her it was over. That you were done.
The days in Manchester went by just the same. It was hard and tough. Atleast you knew your team back in Spain, you barely know anyone here.
Salma kept being on your mind, it was hard to forget her. How could anyone forget her. She had a sparkle you hadn’t seen in anyone before. She lit up any room when she walked in and brought out the best in you.
So instead of hurting and torturing yourself any more you focused. Your mind was set. Football was it. Manchester City had an amazing season and you were ready to destroy the Champions League. This was your year.
And you held yourself onto that. You got through the groupstages. Ajax, Wolfsburg and Juventus were all beaten.
The first leg of the Quarter-Finals away had ended up in a 1-2 for your team. And at home you won with 3-0 against Bayern.
This meant a Semi Final against the prize holders, FC Barcelona Femení.
And somehow Salma was still wondering through your mind. She was still there and you were giving up on forgetting her, so you ignored her. Every single sign of her.
Salma wasn’t though. She had you in her mind for the last few weeks. The striker wanted to know what was going on. Why did you leave her. What did you see. What did you think. She just wanted to know.
Salma knew you weren’t going to answer if she called, so she didn’t. She wanted you to see her, to hear her.
That’s how you found her, drenched infront of your doorstep. A cocky smirk finding it’s place on her face.
“Couldn’t you just move to a warmer country.” she laughed.
The smile you had on before you opened the door had dropped. “Or just don’t go to England.” you said, tone flat. When Salma didn’t respond you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Well, see you tomorrow i guess.” you told her before closing your door.
“-wait. Mi amor, wait.” Salma reacted.
“Don’t call me ‘mi amor’. I’m not your love, Ona is.” you said coldly.
Salma’s face fell. “Wait.. what- she isn’t.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. “Ona isn’t my girlfriend. Where did you hear th- no..” your lovers face was puzzled, she was thinking. “Mi vida, is that why you broke this off. You thought i cheated on you?” she asked you with a broken voice.
“Salma, it was all over the news. You texted me, you wanted to break up.” you told her.
“Amor i didn’t want to break up. I just wanted you. I wanted to keep our relationship out of the spotlight, to keep it to ourselves. I just wanted you.” Her voice had completely broken down to a soft whisper. “I wanted you just to myself.” she stepped towards you.
“Salma, i- i don’t know.” you sighed.
“Please, i just want to see you.” Salma breathed.
You let her in. There wasn’t much you had to say to her. She said she didn’t cheat and you had to take her on her word.
Maybe it was the hope in you. Or the desperation. But you believed her. You wanted to believe her, so so badly.
And when the game came around the next day, Salma had already disappeared. The morning flew by and you were sat in the dressingroom. The music was playing through the room and there were players dancing, singing, braiding hair and drawing, whatever kept them cool.
You checked your shoes, like always. Put your hair in a bun, like normal. You walked through the tunnel, like you had done all of your games. You looked at your opponent, as usual. You were playing a game against Barcelona, against the best, against Salma, like you had done a million times.
The game was hard, honestly any game was at this level. But the feelings were your biggest concern. This didn’t end well last time.
You got your confidence back when you passed a ball to Casparij, who gave a deep one back. You made a run for goal and shot. The ball flew through the air, and even with the best efforts of Paños, it went in. In the corner of your eye you saw the ball crossing the white line.
Your teammates ran towards you and you were attacked from all sides. It was chaos and it was the most at home you’ve felt since you joined the blue club.
But the game wasn’t over, Barça wasn’t done.
Aitana made a dangerous tackle, passed to ball to Graham. Caroline was unstoppable, everyone knew it. When she dribbled past a City defender and made a cross it was over. The ball landed perfectly onto the right foot of Paralluelo and into Keating’s goal.
She celebrated like she had done many times before, but only on El Clásico’s. She kissed her wrist, for you.
“Nunca hemos terminado, mi vida.” Salma winked.
A/N my next fic will be domestic because i love little love families 🤭 who should i write for?
#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#barca femeni#man city women#salma paralluelo x reader#salma paralluelo#ona batlle#barca women#barca femini x reader
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Yes, Daddy pt. 4
stud! Riri x stud! Shuri x black! fem! reader
Who else did they take together in the backseat of Shuri’s SUV?
How many times did Riri use her tired-ass pick-up lines?
How many girls had gone to Wakanda and been fucked in Shuri’s childhood bedroom?
Warnings: ANGST!! SMUT!!! 18+, spanking, degradation, explicit language, praise kink, daddy kink, mami kink, dom! Shuri, switch! Riri, sub! reader, mentions of cheating, reader gets with a man..., rough sex, edging, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), choking, strap slinging Riri, alcohol use, squirting, fluff, probably some that I missed
Word Count: 13.1k + (you guys have no idea how excited I am about that)
Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @pocketsizedpanther @shuris3leg @bellaallebbella1
Riri couldn’t remember a time when she’d slept so soundly. Nightmares and restless nights grew up with her, and slumber evaded her, creating a habitual insomniac out of the poor girl. Shooting up from bed in a cold sweat and slight shiver wasn’t out of the ordinary. The creak in Riri’s bed, when she tossed and turned through the night, is what finally caused her roommate to abandon ship and move out.
Riri was free to ignore sleep all she wanted in the comfort of her loneliness. She could turn and toss without complaint. Her bed could squeak and creak as much as she pleased. She could flip her pillow to the cool side over and over and over until the sun came up.
But at that point, why try to sleep at all?
It didn’t make much sense, so she didn’t. Instead, she filled her night with bodies. A presence to ward off the loneliness. Something to do in the darkness.
Her bed still creaked and squeaked, and she still tossed and turned, but this time, she wasn’t alone.
It didn’t matter much to her who the person was; she wouldn’t remember their name in the morning anyway.
And they’d be out of her bed long before that. Riri didn’t do sleepovers.
Then came along Shuri Udaku.
And Riri had her first sleepover since childhood.
And her first friend.
And the sleepless nights got better. The nightmares didn’t go away completely, and some nights, sleep still dodged her, but with Shuri present, Riri could rest, really rest, for a few hours.
They could be at each other’s throats all damn day, but when night came, they held each other in silence, bodies together, fingers laced. The only sound Riri focused on was that of Shuri’s heart against her ear.
On the nights that Shuri spent in her own room, keeping her own company, Riri went back to strangers in her bed to keep her sane until the sun came up.
But those nights were so long gone that she couldn’t even see them over the horizon. Years of doctors and sleep aides, essential oils, and so much melatonin when all she needed was you.
The weight of your body atop hers, the slow, steady rhythm of your breaths, the way you sighed in your sleep and curled into her. Damned be to the prickles in her arm when your head rested upon it for too long and the way your legs tangled beneath the sheets.
She didn’t sleep well unless you were in her bed, and she wasn’t afraid to admit that she needed you there.
The first time you fell asleep there, you saw Riri’s brows relax, the permanent wrinkle that resided between them fading. You made it a habit to take up space in her bed whenever you could, to watch with a slight pride, knowing that wrinkle only disappeared for you.
Riri welcomed the feeling of waking up to you beneath her, your hair in her face, and the scent of you in her bedding. She could wake up with that for the rest of her life and die a happy woman.
So, waking up without you that morning was jarring. The wrinkle returned, and confusion clouded her sleepy eyes.
You were there when she fell asleep; she was sure of that. The sound of your light snores caused her to doze off. Your bonnet lay abandoned on your pillow.
It only took a moment for her coppery gaze to focus, and when they did, you came into view.
You paced the other side of the room in silence, a trail of heat following the path you’d made in the carpet. Your knee-length braids swung behind you in the rhythm of your movements. The screen in your hand illuminated your darkened face with a faux blue light, but it was enough for Riri to notice the pinch in your brows and the way they drew together the more you scrolled.
You were far too engrossed in whatever held your attention to notice Riri sit up and rub the sleep from her eyes. Worry was pooling in the depths of her stomach as she looked over at the clock on her desk. The LED numbers were too fucking bright, 1:15 am blaring across the screen.
A groan crept from the back of her throat. You two had only slept two hours, and that itself was a blessing; Riri could kiss her chances of falling back asleep goodbye.
“Why are you up, ma?” Her voice was deep, groggy, and soft as it traveled across the room toward you.
Your head snapped in her direction, but only for a moment. “Our phones been blowing up,” you replied lowly, talking more to the phone than to Ri. “Surprised that didn’t wake your ass up.”
Riri glanced at her phone on the desk next to the clock but made no move to grab it. “It couldn’t wait til the sun was up?”
Your silence wasn’t an adequate answer, and dread rose with Riri’s worry. “Is it Shuri?”
She was a part-time college student, part-time princess, and she still had duties back home that couldn’t be tended to across oceans. It was supposed to be a short trip, only a few days to handle her shit and return. But a few days was now two weeks with no end in sight.
Both you and Riri were feeling the effects of Shuri’s absence, though Riri wouldn’t outwardly admit it. The distance was hard, and the time difference was harder. Days would go by before any of your schedules aligned for so much as a twenty-minute FaceTime.
Even now, it was nearing the thirty-hour mark since either of you had spoken to the princess.
Riri didn’t think that anything was wrong; Shuri could sure as hell handle her own, and what she couldn’t handle, the Dora Milaje could.
Your scoff was an ugly sound, anger embedded within it, and Riri flinched. “What’s wrong, y/n?”
You crossed the room with quick steps, falling to the bed beside Riri and shoving the too-bright screen in her face.
“You seen this?”
Riri peered at the phone behind squinted eyes, hoping the blurry image would adjust.
When it finally did, Riri found herself staring at a video. It was hard to see, clearly taken from the phone camera of a fan’s shaky hands in a dark nightclub.
Shuri was never hard to spot; Riri had grown accustomed to having to pick the princess out in crowds swimming with people. She looked good, and Riri’s heart beat a bit harder beneath her chest. Shuri sported a black suit like it was uniform; she never failed to impress in them. Dark shades were glued to her face despite her being indoors and it already being dark.
Riri couldn’t help the brow that shot to the top of her head at the scene playing out for her. She knew Shuri could catch ass; she’d witnessed it more times than she could count, but goddamn.
“Goddamn,” her words parroted her thoughts, strained and breathy. She took the phone from your hand and brought it closer to her face. Ass was being thrown, and Shuri was catching it expertly. They moved in tandem, Shuri with one hand laced around the girl’s waist, the other in her hand.
Riri couldn’t count how many times she watched the video; she just knew the two of you sat there in silence while it played. That was, until you broke her trance, scrolling further down until an image appeared.
And once again, it was Shuri, head held high with a jawline sharp enough to slice and a slick smirk accentuating her cheeks. The girl sitting in front of her was resting her head against the panther, eyes shut, lips pursed. Riri’s eyes were bugging out of her head at this point. She was fully awake.
“Kehlani?” Her gaze shifted between you and the photo, eyeing it as if it would come to life. “She catching ass from Kehlani?”
Your lips were pursed, and you were quick to snatch the phone back from Riri. “It’s all over the place. Twitter, Instagram, damn TMZ.”
“What the hell?” Riri whispered, mostly to herself. How Shuri always found herself in these lucky positions, she had no clue, but Ri made a mental note to start accompanying her on business trips.
“And we getting tagged in this shit across the board, Ri. They calling Shuri greedy, saying she got a harem and shit.”
“What the hell?”
“Some of ‘em saying she cheating on me with you, you with me, and both of us with fucking Kehlani.”
“She ain’ cheating on nobody-” the words trailed off into nothing, Riri stopping short at the venomous look you were currently throwing her way.
“You okay with her catching ass from Kehlani?”
Riri could’ve laughed out loud; what a fucking sentence.
“Nigga, it’s Kehlani-”
“So?”
“So, I wish I was catching ass from Kehlani-”
Riri wasn’t getting a word in inch-wise in this conversation. You cut her off again, “Okay, let’s say it’s not Kehlani. You okay with her catching ass if it ain’ from me or you? You think she fucking her?”
Riri shrugged, finally reaching for her own phone. “You just described Shuri’s weekends, baby.”
You went silent for so long that Riri looked up from her device to make sure you were still there. She wasn’t expecting to meet your gaze. Your mahogany eyes, usually lit up with a smile, were dull and hot with the inferno that burned behind them. “What?”
Riri recoiled, thrown by the way your question burned her. She rose from the bed slowly, readying herself to backtrack, though, truth be told, she wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong. “What, baby?”
“So when she not here with us,” your index finger pointed from Riri back to yourself. “She catching ass from other bitches?”
“Catching ass, getting ass.” Riri had the audacity to shrug again. “Not like she used to, but-”
Poor Riri should’ve just put her foot in her mouth at that moment. You stepped forward, closing the space between the two of you, and Riri allowed her hands to rest on your hips. The breath she didn’t know she was holding released when you sunk into her touch.
“And you’re okay with that?”
Riri tilted her head to the side, her tongue swiping her lips before she responded. “We ain’ never been exclusive, baby-”
“We who?”
Riri had to suck back the sigh she was about to release. “Me and Shuri-”
“It ain’ just you and Shuri no more, Riri-”
She was unaware of how rough her movements were, of how she lightly scratched you when she reached to cup your cheeks. “Quit interrupting me, baby.”
You tore Riri’s hands from your face like they burned and shoved her back a step. She stumbled, and you almost reached out to catch her before she steadied herself. Her shocked eyes met the fight building in yours. She could see the deep red line, only about an inch long, that lingered on your cheek where her hands once were. “Shit, baby-” She took a step toward you and you took a step back. “I-I’m sorry.”
Her apology went in one ear and out the other while you tried to level your breathing. The two of you stood perfectly still, gazes locked on one another.
“So Shuri ain’ just fucking me or you? There are others?”
Riri knew there wouldn’t be any good way to answer, but you gave her no chance to anyway.
“Are- are you-?” You glanced over to her bed, imagining how many other bodies had taken up space in it, wondering how many had lately.
Riri’s voice was small, pleading, “We ain’ never-” She stumbled over her words.
Your anger was growing, your nostrils flared, and your eyes narrowed. Had you been a cartoon character, steam would have been blowing from your ears. “The two of you gave me the fucking silent treatment until I agreed to go public with you, but we not fucking exclusive?”
Riri had never been so silent, so unsure.
“Shuri been fucking outside of us? You been fucking outside of us?”
Riri just stared at you. That’s okay, though. Her silence was enough of an answer.
She felt her heart physically break when your voice did. “And y’all okay with that?”
Riri found her tongue, though it probably would have been better had she not. “You not?”
Her body visibly recoiled when a deep, insincere chuckle left your parted lips. Panic flooded her tiny body when you started moving about the room, collecting your belongings and throwing them into the black duffle you’d arrived with.
She took barely two steps to reach you, reaching into your bag to throw the contents back to the floor. “Stop, baby, stop!”
You just silently collected your items, not wanting to stay any longer.
Riri snatched the bag from your hands and turned it upside down, dumping all of your things onto the floor. “C’mon, baby. Listen-” She might as well have been talking to a brick wall, and her already damaged heart broke further at the sight of you on your knees, picking your possessions up one by one.
She dropped to her knees with you, trying desperately to grab for your hands, which you kept snatching away from her. “Listen to me, baby. Stop, please-”
Her beg was so pathetic it froze you in place, and you allowed yourself to look at her through your lashes.
“Me and Shuri been doing this for so long, baby, we didn’t know-” She stopped short, halting her words behind her bit bottom lip.
Riri started again. “I didn’t think-”
“Clearly-”
She ignored your jab and continued. “Me and Shuri ain’ never been exclusive, baby-”
The rest of her sentence floated through the air, never reaching your ears. Her and Shuri. That’s all you were hearing; it sent ice through your veins. Her and Shuri were never exclusive. They weren’t exclusive before you, and they wouldn’t be exclusive during you.
What a foolish girl you were, to have found this out so late. For a year and nine months, they’d been fucking you and each other, and Bast knows who else.
Who else did they take together in the backseat of Shuri’s SUV?
How many times did Riri use her tired-ass pick-up lines?
How many girls had gone to Wakanda and been fucked in Shuri’s childhood bedroom?
You searched for the answers behind Riri’s eyes but found nothing.
She bit back a sob when your hand slipped from hers, but the shock in her face when she saw yours bore a smile dried away all her tears. “Baby?” she whispered.
Your eyes were sad, and your cheeks strained, but the smile never fell. “It’s cool. We not exclusive; you and Shuri never was.”
Riri’s brows drew together. “Did you even hear me-”
One hand rose to silence the girl before you while the other went back to gathering your items from the floor. “I get it.”
Riri’s voice was full of sorrow. “Then why you still packing?”
“I think I wanna sleep in my room tonight-”
“Y/n-“
Something deep in your chest panged hard, hearing your real name roll off her tongue with such dejection. It took everything in you to swallow the feeling down. Your tongue felt like lead, weighing heavy with your next words: “It’s alright. You’ll find somebody else to fill your bed tonight.”
Your hand waved the words away as though they meant nothing, but they knocked the air straight from Riri’s lungs in a gasp that pained you to hear.
She watched with wide eyes and a face full of hurt as you stood, turning towards her with your bag thrown over your shoulder and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
“It’s cool, Ri.” You whispered with such false confidence you didn’t even believe what you said. “I’ll hit you up later.”
Panic rose like bile in Riri’s throat when you reached for the doorknob. “Baby-“ she tried again. Her plea was so soft it actually stopped you in your tracks. Fictitious hope washed over her when you took a step back, walking toward her.
Her arms reached toward you out of instinct, waiting for you to fall into them.
But you didn’t.
Your lips pressed to her cheek softly, and Riri held her breath. In 21 months, she’d welcomed your kisses, the feeling of your lips on any part of her body.
This time, she hated it.
It felt so empty, so final.
Riri hated it more when you pulled away, further and further, until you were out the door, and there she stood in her dark room, alone, with the video of Shuri at the club playing on her discarded phone on a continuous loop.
The weight of the world rested heavily on the Princess of Wakanda’s shoulders. She’d only been home for three weeks, but every second there reminded her why she’d left.
Sure, she missed her family, and she sure as hell missed her lab, but nothing soothed the ache in her chest that came with missing you.
And yeah, she missed Riri too, but Ri would have to pry that confession from her.
Shuri had been slacking, which was an unusual occurrence for the girl. She hadn’t come close to keeping her promise of constant contact while she was away, not even daring to count the days since she’d last spoken to either of you.
That would all change soon, she thought. The Talon Fighter was growing closer to campus, and she could not wait to get back.
The moment her feet touched American soil, they took her in the direction of Riri’s room. Every time she had spoken to the two of you, that’s where you were residing, so with any luck, she would be greeted with a welcome committee.
It was the middle of the day, and campus was crowded, with frantic students rushing to class or somber ones leaving. Regardless, it took Shuri close to fifteen minutes to reach Riri’s door in what should have been a five-minute walk.
Her knuckles rapped against the solid door with urgency.
When it didn’t open right away, she raised her hand to knock a bit harder, but the door swinging ajar stopped her short.
Riri had opened the door and walked back to her desk, more interested in whatever she was working on than on who was visiting her.
“What kind of ‘welcome home’ was that?”
Shuri’s smooth words pulled Riri’s head from her computer, but only for a moment. She didn’t pay the Wakandan any mind as she slipped into the room, shutting the heavy door behind her. “Ri? Hello?”
Riri barely mustered out a “Hey. Welcome home.”
Shuri peered around the room with a raised brow. “Where’s y/n?”
Riri lifted her head long enough to glance at the clock on the wall. “I’m assuming class.” Her voice was whispered and muffled and just didn’t sound like Ri at all.
She sounded more like the girl Shuri had found crying in the hall all those years ago.
And that caused the pit in Shuri’s stomach to swirl with dread.
When Riri stood to retrieve something from the other side of the room, Shuri followed. “You not happy to see me?” She teased, trying to edge Riri back into their usual banter.
She didn’t take the bait, ignoring Shuri instead. It didn’t look purposeful; Riri just seemed too engrossed in her own thoughts.
Shuri stepped closer to the smaller girl, closing the space between them until Ri’s back was pressed against the wall, and Shuri’s hand on her waist kept her there.
The other hand trapped Riri’s head in place, palming the wall beside it. Shuri bent from her full height, leaning until she and Riri were face to face, so close that Ri was forced to stare into the mocha chasm that was Shuri’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Gone from Shuri’s voice was the sarcasm from before. There was no teasing, no short quips.
Riri sank into Shuri’s touch, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
It was a rare intimate moment between the two, and Riri would rather relish in it, even if for a moment, than ruin it with words.
But Shuri wasn’t letting up. She removed her hand from the wall, moving it to grip Riri’s chin, forcing their faces closer until their foreheads kissed.
“What happened, Ri?”
Riri welcomed the softness, even basking in it for just a second before she lightly pushed Shuri away.
Shuri took the hint, taking a step back but not allowing the space between her and Ri to grow too large. Her eyes swam with concern, searching Riri’s face for an answer her lips weren’t providing.
Riri’s tiny frame shook with emotion. Her fingers tensed, her hands running across her face with such a desolate sigh it almost sprang tears to her eyes.
“I ain’ seen y/n in bout a week.” Her confession only rang slightly true; she’d seen you around campus, between classes, and in the caf, and each time, you acted like you hadn’t seen her.
Like you couldn’t feel the intensity of her stare on your back, burning a Riri-sized hole into you with a fiery glare.
You hadn’t texted, hadn’t called. When she went to your room and knocked, you didn’t answer.
It scorched Riri to see you going about life without her. Almost like you hadn’t needed her to begin with.
But Bast, did she need you. Riri hadn’t slept all week, and she knew it was written all over her face.
The dark circles that decorated her under eyes looked as though they weighed a ton, and the wrinkle in her brow had taken up a permanent residence.
Shuri paused for a moment, letting Riri’s words settle in the air between them.
“Fuck you mean you ain’ see Y/n in a week?”
“Exactly what I said.” Riri fell into the chair behind her desk with a thud.
“How you ain’ see her in a week, Ri? Last time I talked to you-“
“Over a week ago-“
Shuri continued as though Riri hadn’t spoken. “You two were here. Together, I saw you.”
Riri took a beat to take a deep breath and released it slowly before replying. “Yes. And she saw you.”
Confusion riddled Shuri’s sharp features. “She saw me?”
“Yeah, nigga, she saw you. The whole damn internet saw you.”
Shuri was stunned into silence. She knew exactly what Riri was talking about, and wave after wave crashed over her. Embarrassment, disappointment, and confusion rippled, and Shuri’s eyes squeezed shut, hoping to escape the uncomfortable feeling.
“And it upset her?” The end of her sentence fluttered upwards with perplexity.
The princess hadn’t seen a problem with her actions at the time. She partied often, and she partied hard. Shuri was known for catching ass on a good Friday night, and this had been just that.
Sure, more girls had seen the inside of Shuri’s dorm room than she might have liked to admit, but she hadn’t been ashamed of it.
Not until she learned it upset you.
She really had slowed down, though, since becoming involved with you. Hell, she’d slowed down since she and Riri had started fucking. What used to be one or two girls a night quickly morphed into none over multiple months.
But Riri didn’t know that. She still thought Shuri’s reputation preceded her, imagining that she was keeping the same company as before.
In reality, the Wakandan native’s interest in anyone else was long gone.
Images of your face that night flashed through Riri’s memories.
You, pacing the room, looking absolutely heartbroken.
You, on your knees, picking up your things.
You kissing Riri’s cheek before pulling away from her.
Riri’s poor heart ached at the thought, and in came the now familiar feel of her throat growing tight and her eyes stinging with salty tears.
She quickly blinked them away, turning to face Shuri with a sigh that sounded like it contained all the world’s sorrows.
“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. “Yeah, man, it upset her.”
Add disgust to the abundance of emotions Shuri was currently feeling. She cursed herself aloud for making you feel that way. She could just imagine the way you held your head high, refusing to cry with a quiver in your lip that only she would have noticed.
How you probably departed with a broken smile on your face.
It was eerie how right she was.
She gulped, attempting (and failing) to wet her suddenly very dry throat. “Did she say anything?” Shuri asked through the scratchiness.
Riri looked over with blank eyes. “Said so much I couldn’t get a word in.” A hush fell between them before Riri spoke again. “We gave her the silent treatment until she agreed to go public, but we ain’ commit to her.”
Shuri winced. Yeah, they had done that…
“She ain’ asking for much, man. She just want us.”
Shuri’s long legs carried her to Riri’s bed with ease. She fell to the mattress with a soft thump before speaking. “Okay,” she said plainly.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, Ri. She want us,” Shuri’s shrug left Riri speechless. “She got us.”
Riri’s mouth fell open with the weight of Shuri’s words. “Simple as that?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Riri stood to her feet, letting them lead her to Shuri, still on the bed. Her hands hesitated for a moment before resting on Shuri’s clothed knees, her eyes shining with forgotten tears. “Nigga, don’t play with me right now.”
A small smirk threatened to curve the ends of Shuri’s lips upward. She used one hand to support her weight on the bed and the other to push Riri’s kinky curls away from her face.
Riri was getting ready to ease into the gentleness of Shuri’s touch when the princess tangled her fingers at Riri’s scalp and pulled hard.
Ri’s head fell back with a sharp tug from Shuri, exposing the entire length of her neck. Her lips parted in shock, and the breath she inhaled had no way to escape with Shuri’s lips so dangerously close to Ri’s ear.
“You got soft while I was away,” Shuri whispered. It was just the two of them in the small room; no one would have heard her.
Riri fixed her mouth to say something smart, but Shuri cut her off. “I missed you.”
It was a sincere moment. Shuri’s voice still hadn’t reached octaves above a whisper, and the look she gave Ri was enough to send a tingle down to her toes.
Shuri hopped from the bed, her hands steady on Riri’s hips before releasing them with a prompt nod. “C’mon. Let’s go get our girl.”
She’d barely made it two steps before Ri’s tiny hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back. “Wait,” she called.
Shuri turned, her eyes landing on Riri with the same intensity as before. Her chest caved with each deep breath, and her expression looked pained, scared even.
“We doing this? We getting serious bout each other?”
Shuri truly moved with the grace of a panther, retreating swiftly, encapsulating Riri’s face cupped in her hand.
They were so close they stole each other’s breath. Shuri’s gaze flickered between Riri’s lips and her eyes, not able to decide which was more worthy of her attention.
Riri’s breathing paused altogether at the sound of Shuri’s chuckle ringing in her ears. “We been doing this how many years, Ri?” Riri’s bottom lip tucked into her mouth clenched between her rows of perfect teeth.
Shuri tutted quietly, using her thumb to roll Riri’s lip back out.
She didn’t move her finger nor her gaze from Riri’s deep brown lip before she spoke again. “Who’s to say I wasn’t already serious about you?”
The knocking at your door hadn’t subsided, and it was driving you fucking insane. You burrowed further into your comforter, tugging at the heavy blanket until it swallowed you whole.
You made no conscious movements to answer it. Getting up and going to class had exerted all of your remaining energy this past week, and you didn’t have any left to entertain company. You weren’t getting up until tonight when it was required of you.
Maybe whoever it was would take the hint and leave.
They didn’t.
Muffled voices on the other side of the door were your only warning before it opened so harshly that the handle indented into its adjacent wall.
Your body shot straight up, speechless. The blanket fell, pooling at your hips, and your eyes widened three sizes.
Riri’s footsteps were nearly silent as she strolled in, hands in her pocket, with a stoic expression.
Shuri stepped in behind her, and your already large eyes grew to the size of saucers. Hers were glued on you, noticing the way they sparkled at the sight of her.
The steps she took toward you were timid, and your breath collected in your chest the entire time it took her to cross the small room.
“Sthandwa,” she spoke directly toward you, her native tongue sounding so much stronger after the time she spent home.
The tiniest whimper escaped your lips, and the irritation on Shuri’s face was wiped away with a smirk. Her hand made its way to your face, cupping your cheek and smiling even wider when you fell into her touch.
“You missed me,” Her words were low, for your ears only.
The moment that passed was a shared one, just between you and Shuri.
You almost nodded, admitting how badly you had missed her.
And then your eyes closed.
And you remembered why you’d put yourself through a week of hell.
You remembered why you were avoiding Riri, ignoring Shuri.
You remembered why you were going out tonight with someone who wasn’t them.
And what was a soft smile on your face curled into the nastiest of snarls.
Your body straightened, pulling your head from Shuri’s hand and retreating until your back touched the wall, and a mountain of pillows distanced you from the princess.
Her demeanor just about crumbled when your eyes cut sharply from her and landed on Riri, who still stood a couple of feet away with an unreadable expression etched across her features.
“Y’all broke into my room?”
It was more an accusation than a question, and it oozed with venom. Shuri fought back a flinch, and Riri dug her hand from her pocket, revealing a gold key swinging from her index finger.
“Not breaking in if I have the spare.”
“It’s breaking in if you weren’t invited.”
Riri tossed her hand back in her pocket and joined Shuri beside your bed, leaning forward until her elbows dug into the mattress. “We ain’ come here to argue with you, y/n.”
Ri had spoken your name more times lately than she had all the months you’d been together, and you hated it. The hairs on your arm stood on end, and your vision turned blood red.
“Shouldn’t have come at all-”
Shuri’s hand around your neck evaporated whatever else was about to roll off your tongue. You begrudgingly focused your gaze on her, shocked to see amusement swimming in her eyes. “Who are you talking to like that?”
Your lips remained sealed in defiance, and Riri shook her head with a scoff directed towards you.
Shuri’s fingertips were digging into the side of your throat, tugging you toward her. It was a gentler touch at first, but then you had to be hard-headed and try to fight it. Her hands gripped tighter, pulling you harder, and the dark spots that started to attack your vision told you to obey.
You fell on all fours, staring up at Shuri behind lashes so long, they almost touched your brows. She removed her hand, allowing air to reach your lungs again, cursing under her breath.
“Fuck,” she breathed out. Even Riri had to bury her bottom lip between her teeth to avoid speaking her thoughts aloud.
You looked fucking delicious, seated on hands and knees, glaring up at them. Heat burned deep in Shuri’s chest, heaving with deep inhales. “Come here,” she commanded.
Shuri’s tone left no room for attitude, but that didn’t stop you from having one. Your eyes rolled, and your knees planted in place with a wiggle of your hips.
Even Riri’s brow rose at the action, and she turned to Shuri with a question behind her eyes.
Shuri’s glance at Ri was quick and filled with an unfamiliar husk. She looked back at you, speaking to Riri while her eyes burned such heat into yours that you had to look away. “She wanna be a brat? That’s fine-” The smile that Shuri bore filled your stomach with fear. “We can tame a brat.”
She opened her mouth again, this time to speak to you. “Come. Here.” Her words sent a noticeable chill through your body, and you rose to just your knees, getting ready to swing your legs around and scoot to the edge of the bed, where Shuri and Riri stood.
“Uh, uh,” Shuri shook her head at you, smiling wider at the confusion on your face. She stood taller, shoulders back, spine straight, chin tilted, truly like royalty. “Crawl to me.”
This time, it was your brows that shot to your hairline. The heat that was burning in her belly moved south, and with a gulp, you found yourself crawling, slowly and seductively, until you were face-to-face with Shuri’s torso.
You stared at it for a moment too long, and she fell into a squat, aligning her face with yours. She was so close, the smell of her cologne almost bringing tears to your eyes. You inhaled deeply, wishing you could commit the scent to memory for the next time Shuri left.
“What’s wrong with you, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Hm? Why you acting like this?”
You were still.
A minute passed, then another, and you refused to part your lips and address her.
“Silent treatment, baby? Forreal?”
The room was quiet.
“You being childish,” Shuri mumbled, standing to her full height again.
She moved to sit beside you, and you watched with interest.
With swift movements, Shuri was next to you, reaching for your wrists.
It all happened so quickly, her tugging your arms sharply until you laid on your belly across her lap. You gasped, further pressing your torso into Shuri’s thighs.
One hand held your wrists out in front of you as though you were swimming while the other caressed your ass through your shorts.
Her touch was too soft, a stark contrast to the rest of her movements. You made the mistake of relaxing in her grasp, allowing your guard and attitude to fall completely.
Poor you.
A sharp slap sounded throughout the room, followed by the sharp sting that radiated through your right ass cheek. And just as quickly as the strike came, it went, covered by Shuri’s soft massage.
The way your mout h fell open to form a little “O” was so cute. Shock, and anger, and desire all fueled the fire that was burning in your lower belly, igniting and growing it further.
“We gonna work on you and Riri’s ‘Welcome’ next time, baby” Another harsh slap, this time to the opposite cheek.
Riri spoke up, her voice sounding like a squeak. “You could always take us with you next time.” She barely got the sentence out without a moan escaping. Her eyes bore into the scene before her, wanting so badly to rub away the pain Shuri was inflicting.
Shuri smirked at Ri before turning back to land another hard clap on your ass. “What you think, baby? Wanna come with me?”
Her words and her actions weren’t lining up. The way she spoke to you was so tender, as though the three of you sat in a coffee shop having a pleasant conversation.
The way she assaulted your ass said otherwise. You were writhing under her touch, with a wetness that pooled between your clenched thighs uncomfortably.
Another slap, then she continued. “We spend weeks together, relaxing by the water. I could take you on the Royal Talon Fighter. Fuck you right on the floor while we’re in the air”.
Another slap. “Riri fingering you in the pool.”
Slap. “I’ll sit you on my throne, where you belong, and eat you until you cry.”
Slap. “Sound like a plan, Ri?”
Riri was in a fucking daze. She could smell your arousal, and it was so hard to resist planting her face between your legs, inhaling your scent deeper. She struggled to mutter so much as a “yeah” in response to Shuri’s question. She wasn’t even sure she’d been listening.
Shuri’s attention fell back to you, and a deep groan escaped her chest. You were a mess. She could feel how hot your body had grown in the short time you’d been pressed against her. You were still quiet, but her ears picked up on the soft whimpers that you thought no one could hear. Your body was practically vibrating.
An insatiable need swam in your eyes, falling over your cheeks and down the side of Shuri’s leg.
“That sound like a plan, baby?”
You remained quiet, the sound of her hand clapping your ass echoing in the room.
“I don’t like being ignored, y/n.” Shuri must’ve lost her mind and left it in Wakanda, using your real name like that. It just made you dig your heels in further, refusing to give her a verbal response.
She shook her head, turning to Riri to speak again. “I been gone three weeks, and you let her get all defiant and shit.”
Riri snapped out of her trance at the accusation. “I ain’ let her do shit-”
“You did,” Shuri removed her hand from your ass to point toward your nightstand. “Grab her vibrator from the drawer and come fix your shit.”
Your head shot up at Shuri’s words. A part of you was relieved the attack on your now swollen ass cheeks had stopped. The other part was full of dread. You needed to fucking come, but there was no way Shuri was going to make it that easy on you.
She lifted your limp body with ease, shuffling around until you were in her lap, back pressed to her heaving chest. You winced a bit at the stinging sensation that traveled down the back of your thighs, but Shuri’s padded fingertips drawing circles in your abdomen was enough of a distraction for you to relax a bit.
Her lips peppered up and down the length of your neck, stopping every now and then to nip at your tight skin. “Imma hear that pretty voice one way or another, baby.”
She grinned at the shiver her words sent down your spine and lifted her head to see Riri starting back toward your bed with your massive pink wand in hand. Your knees lifted to your chest without thought, and Shuri planted her hands on them, prying them apart until the wet spot in your shorts was visible to Ri.
Her breasts bounced with the way her chest heaved at the sight. Your grey shorts were noticeably darker around the spot that bore your cunt, and your dark thighs glittered with your own slick.
The sudden cool air that hit your pussy shocked you, and your thighs clenched, trying to close in response. They barely moved with Shuri’s hands in place.
She didn’t even acknowledge your failed attempt, instead nodding her head at Riri. The smaller girl looked as though it pained her to look away from you, and it did.
“What?”
“Come here.” Riri glanced over you one more time, then started stepping closer to the bed. Shuri ducked her head, taking your ear lobe between her teeth before speaking lowly. “See how she listen the first time?”
Riri rolled her eyes but climbed onto the bed anyway, kneeling beside you and Shuri’s bodies flush against one another. “What?” she asked again.
Shuri let go of your thighs, snaking an arm around your torso to hold you in place while the other tugged on Riri’s curls, luring her closer and closer and closer until she and Shuri’s breaths became one.
Shuri leaned up, pressing her lips against Riri’s with a moan. The delicacy of the kiss didn’t last long, and the strain in your neck as you turned and watched them wasn’t enough to peel your eyes away.
Riri’s tongue darted out first, sloppily tracing over Shuri’s before she reached to grasp the back of her head and deepen the kiss.
Your moan at the sight was music to their ears, and Riri pulled away, gracing you with a smile before Shuri’s hand on her chin pulled her back. Shuri’s lips brushed Ri’s as she whispered, “I ain’ get to kiss you properly since I been back.” She let her gaze linger on you with a side-eye before she turned back to Riri. “We had other things to deal with.”
Riri’s nose scrunched up, her curls swaying to and fro with the shake of her head. “And I’m the one who got soft?” she asked with a scoff.
Shuri ignored Ri. “Lemme taste her off your lips when you finish.”
Riri’s stare at you was hungry. She hadn’t had a taste of you in so long. Her mouth watered, and her tongue swiped across her lips, leaving behind a sheen. “I’ll think about it,” she mumbled, hopping from the bed.
With the click of a button, your vibrator roared to life, and the whimper that left your mouth was pathetic. Riri stood patiently waiting while Shuri pulled your legs apart once more. Her hands on you felt like fire, and your head fell back onto your shoulder. Her chuckle rang loudly in your ear. “We ain’ even touch you yet.”
But then Riri’s hand grazed your thigh, only enough to pull your shorts to one side and expose your needy center. “Oh, baby, you’re fucking soaked.”
Your hips jutted forward, an impatient exhale sharp in your chest. You knew you were soaked; you needed them to do something about it.
Riri’s delicate fingers brushed over your lower set of lips before stopping to gently slap it a few times. You splashed around her harsh hits, hissing and curving your hips, hoping to catch her fingers at your entrance.
Mm, Riri hummed. “This ain’ enough.” She nodded to Shuri, “Lift her legs up.”
Shuri’s hands went from your inner thigh to hooking underneath, folding you in half. Your knees almost aligned with your shoulders, and Riri nodded, satisfied. “There she go. All on display for me.”
She brought the vibrator to your clit without warning, and you screamed. “There go that pretty voice, too,” Shuri stated, levity and lust dripping from her accented words.
You didn’t have the strength to stay silent anymore. Riri had the violently vibrating toy pressed hard against your swollen bud, and she made no move to let up. Your cunt splashed around the rapid movements, and you knew your orgasm would come fast and hard.
“So pretty,” Riri parroted lazily. The wetness between her own legs was growing uncomfortable, but her focus right now was wholeheartedly on you.
Your pussy clenched around nothing, and your head dug into Shuri’s shoulder with a dull pain that would become prominent later. “Oh, fuck,” you breathed out, repeating the phrase like a broken record.
This time, it was Shuri and Riri who were quiet, listening intently to your voice and the way its crescendo was built.
Your chest heaved, and your abs contracted, and you could feel your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit-”
And then it was gone. The vibrations stopped, and the glorious orgasm that was about to wreck you washed away. A desperate cry fell from your lips, your glossed eyes staring up at Riri with so many questions.
“Nah, ma. That was the lowest setting.” She bent down to kiss your cheek. “You don’t gotta come yet.”
Your head shook so fast, it made you dizzy. “I do, I do.”
“Oh, you do?” She was mocking you. Your mouth opened with a smart-ass response that was quickly forgotten when stronger, harsher movements attacked your clit.
Riri had turned the intensity up, and the vibrations were radiating through your abdomen and your thighs. Your head fell back once more; your jaw stuck slack. “Oh fuck,” you roared. There was no way the people minding their business in the halls weren’t hearing you, but Bast, did you not give a fuck.
“Fuck, Ri, fuck,” you drawled out with a whimper. Her name had fallen from your lips with ease, and both the girls focused on you moved quickly to correct that.
Shuri’s hand roughly grabbed a handful of your braids and pushed your head forward at the same time that Riri pulled it forward with her hand on your chin. She hit the button on the vibrator, and the intensity increased once more.
Their hands on you wouldn’t allow your head to fall. The spew of screams and curses uttered from your mouth while Riri’s eyes dug into yours as if she could see past them. “Yeah, let’s try that again, baby girl.”
Up another setting the vibrator went, and the cry that came from you sounded like that of a wounded animal. “What’s my name?” Riri asked with all the sass in the world, watching you with stern eyes.
You didn’t answer, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. There wasn’t a sane thought in that pretty brain of yours right now, and though you searched and searched, your own name didn’t even come to mind at the moment.
The intensity climbed higher and higher until Riri hitting the button was mundane. The vibrator was on the highest possible setting, and she was proud of you for handling it.
Your orgasm didn’t creep back on you with ease; it was about to hit you like a train. Your splashing grew, throwing your slick on all three of you. Your stomach was so tight, you were sure you’d have a six-pack after this, and your body shook like you were possessed.
Your head was still aligned with Ri’s, but your eyes were long gone, rolled back into your skull. A quick tap at your cheek pulled them back, and you stared at Riri, taking in her tiny frame, covered in sweat (or was that your cum?), with a look so sharp, it cut your gasp short.
“My name, baby,” she growled out at you, but it was too late. You were coming, soaking the sheets beneath you and Shuri with a long, drawn-out cry. Your body was trembling, a shaky “Ooh, shit,” the only thing that you could think well enough to say.
Riri held the vibrator flush with your cunt, letting the mix of you squirting and the vibrations splash your taste right to her awaiting tongue.
The moment felt like it lasted forever, and when you finally did start to come down, Riri removed the vibrator from you, turning it off and discarding it on the floor.
Shuri sat whispering something in Xhosa in your ear, tracing lines up and down your still shaky legs.
Your body gave out, relaxing into the curve of Shuri’s before Riri’s tight grip around your throat reawoke reality around you. Her eyes darted around your face, her lips tight, and her brows drawn. She yanked you away from Shuri and closed the space between you and her.
“What is my fucking name?” She questioned harshly. You’d never heard a sound so sinister come from her, and it turned your good mood foul.
“Red,” you spat at her.
In the next instant, her hand released your neck, and she took a step back, eyes still racing, breath still raging.
Shuri removed her hands from your thighs, backing herself into a corner of your bed until she was no longer touching you. “Sana-” she started gently, but you barely heard her.
All of your rage from before was back, and now Riri was the unfortunate target. “That’s not fucking fair, Riri!”
She remained silent tense brows raising as she watched you jump from the bed onto wobbly legs. You stumbled but stood your ground. “Yeah, you’re Riri now.”
She wasn’t deterred when you started toward her, hands drawn in fists at your side and chest poking out. “You been calling me by my government since that night in your dorm room, but it’s a problem when I do it?”
Riri's mouth opened, starting to speak, but the look on your face advised her not to. “It’s always a fucking problem when I do it, huh?” You were in her face at this point, and she could see the tears glistening behind the anger in your eyes.
“You two ignore me for a fucking week until I say okay to the whole damn world know I got not one, but two ‘girlfriends.’” Your hands uncurl to throw air quotes around “girlfriends.” A grizzly laugh escapes your lips, and the tears start to fall.
“But they not even my girlfriends. I-” Your voice broke, and so did the girls’ hearts. “I ain’ nothing but one of many to them.” You sniff before continuing. “And when I try to get a week to figure that shit out, to process it, you break into my fucking room!”
“You break in and fuck my fucking brains out.” Your hands are shaking as they reach up to wipe away the steady stream of tears. “But you gonna leave here and give the same thing to who the fuck ever.”
Riri’s silence is starting to irritate you, so you direct the rest of your wrath to the princess. The pillow on your desk chair flies toward her, landing with a thud, and you wish you had the balls to throw something heavier. “And you-”
Shuri watches you cross the room toward her, stopping just short of the bed. “You got me out here looking fucking stupid!” Snot and spit mix with your tears in what you only know as the definition of ugly crying, but you do not fucking care.
“You got a harem, Shuri? Hm?”
“No-” Her words were drowned under yours.
“Kehlani, nigga? I can’t-” Your voice cracked further. “I can’t fucking compete with Kehlani. I can’t even compete with the other girls on campus, can I?” You whispered.
Your hand flew to point at Riri, and she flinched, certain that you’d just flung something in her direction. “She the only one who don’t got any competition. It’s always been Ri and Shuri.” You chuckle again. “Y’know what she told me?” Your laughter grew until you were hiccuping behind giggles and sobs. “When I was in her room upset about the viral video of my ‘girlfriend’ dry humping somebody else in the club? She kept saying ‘Me and Shuri’ this and ‘Me and Shuri’ that.”
You looked back toward Riri. The venom in you had run dry, and all that was left behind was sadness. “‘Me and Shuri ain’ never been exclusive’” You took her words and threw them back at her; it was the worst thing you could’ve thrown.
“‘Shuri catching ass, getting ass; those are just her weekends,’” you repeated what Riri had said to you with bile in your throat. “She laughed about it.”
Shuri’s eyes darted towards Riri, who looked as though she were about to crumble to the floor.
You closed your eyes, refusing to look at either of them any longer. “Get out,” you whispered.
Shuri rose from your bed, taking tender steps toward you as if you would explode if she were to move any faster. “Baby, I- We-”
You sighed, rubbing your eyes until they were red. “There it go again; ‘we’. ‘We’ is not Shuri, Riri, and me. ‘We’ is Shuri and Riri. It’s always Shuri and Riri.” You shook your head, your braids swinging around you. “I’m not doing this no more. Get out.”
Your voice was eerily calm. As though you were making small talk about the weather and not breaking their hearts.
“No-” Shuri spoke again. “Baby, listen-”
You glanced at the clock above Riri’s head, avoiding looking at her altogether. “Get. Out.” You emphasized, stalking past them both until you were entering your bathroom and starting the shower. “I need to start getting ready. Thanks for ruining my nap.”
“Getting ready for what?”
You looked at Shuri deliberately as the next words from your mouth rang through the air. “I have a date.”
“Like hell you do.”
Both of your heads whipped to Riri standing on the other side of the room. Your confession had broken her trance, and she approached you quickly, grabbing for your hand.
“I do,” You snatched away from her touch roughly. “And I need to wash you off me. Both of you.”
“Y/n, you play too fucking much-”
Your neck snapped toward Riri. She didn’t back down when a scoff fell from your lips, and you walked to her until your chests were touching, and she had no choice but to look up at you.
Sadness still decorated your pretty brown eyes, but Riri was more focused on the growl deep in your voice. “What’s the matter, Ri?” You darted your gaze back to the clock once more. “Your eight o’clock cancel on you?”
Your hair whips her in the face as you turn back to Shuri. “Kehlani couldn’t make it?”
Neither of them speaks, just watching you head back to your bathroom door. “I’m getting in the shower,” you announce. “Can’t have all this dried cum on me.” The door starts to close, but not before they hear the last of your sentence. “He might want a fresh slate.”
Riri sat in the VIP box of a club she did not want to fucking be in, nursing a glass of rum that she was barely sipping on. Anger on a sober Riri was enough to land her in jail; she didn’t need to be drunk tonight.
Shuri sat across from her, eyes scanning the crowd below them as she threw back another shot, growling with the burn cascading down her throat.
She lifted a hand to fix the blazer on her shoulder before looking over to notice Riri had abandoned hers. A dark, lacey fabric clung to Riri’s bosom like a second skin, and Shuri gulped before turning away again.
“Why are we even here, Ri? She said she was done.”
Riri’s eye-roll was almost audible. “You wasn’t saying shit when you snuck the Kimoyo bead in her purse.” She brought the cup to her lips again, allowing the sour liquor to run over her tongue before swallowing it harshly. “Ion give a fuck what she said. She’s not done; she’s ours.”
They watched you with fury burning behind their gazes as you gyrated in a crowd full of people. Shuri had to convince Riri to remain glued to her seat when your dress rode up a bit, and luckily, you’d pulled it down before Riri had a chance to expose that she and Shuri were spying on you.
They were just there to make sure your date was respectful. You could have this cute lil date, even if it boiled their blood. They’d make sure your clothes stayed on, and you got home safe, and then try talking to you again tomorrow. Or the day after that, or the day after that.
Except, Riri was finding it really hard to stay under the radar. Every time your date slipped his hands around your waist or brought his face a little too close to yours, her feet begged her to move, her fist itching to hit him.
Him. Of all the ways you could have chosen to spite them, this was by far the fucking worse.
You’d never shown interest in a dick, yet here you were, grinding up against one.
Shuri wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She struggled to read your lips from up here when you brought them to his ear to whisper something or when they spread into a grin. The glass cup in her hand was in danger of breaking; Shuri’s grip just kept getting tighter and tighter.
And even though you weren’t dancing for them, they were mesmerized by you. Your hair was gathered into a high pony, your eyeliner deep and dark, accentuating your big, round eyes. The dress you chose was sinful. It stopped just under the curve of your ass, exposing the length of your thick thighs for him to touch. Had it been any tighter, your breasts would have spilled right out of the deep plunge that reached your belly button; instead, they sat high and (mostly) covered, aside from your pierced nippled poking through the thin fabric.
Riri had groaned when you first walked in, and that quickly turned into a growl when she noticed the nigga’s hand resting on your hip.
That was nearly two hours ago, and her expression had yet to change.
“You don’t wanna chop his hands off?” she asked Shuri over the rim of her glass.
“Of course, I do, sana-”
“Good, then go do it.”
Shuri sighed, putting her drink down and peering over the railing back down at you. Your ass was rolling into the curve of his front, and he was enjoying every bit of it, with one hand on your hip and the other gathered in your hair. “I’m considering it.”
Riri was about to comment when her body ran cold. A slow song rang through the speakers, something much more sensual than the ass-shaking anthem that was playing before. Her eyes ran back to you, and she watched, frozen.
You’d stood back up to your full height, turning to face him with your arms thrown around his neck.
Your bodies ground together in sync with the rhythm of the music, and Riri’s mouth fell open when your head fell back with a moan, and he leaned down to kiss your throat.
She was already on her feet by the time he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours as he practically fucked you through your clothes on the dance floor. The angle put your left breast in danger of being exposed and Ri could see the dark swirl of your areola bouncing free.
“Fuck no.” Riri was gone, and Shuri wasn’t too far behind her. They pushed through the crowd, ignoring protests coming from every which way. Ri’s vision was blood-shot, her body shaking with rage.
Her fist was already formed and she stalked toward you, on a mission. Shuri’s voice in her ear caused the smaller girl to stumble. “Do not hit him,” she commanded with a growl.
Riri reached you first, uncurling her fist and reaching up to snatch you by your hair, breaking the now deepened kiss between you and him. Shuri followed closely behind, nearly clipping your heels and already digging her keys from her pockets.
He stood there stunned as you were pulled away and lead through the front doors without anyone so much as glancing your way. Ri took her hands from your hair and put them around your hips, lifting and flinging you into the backseat of Shuri’s SUV. She hopped in behind you, and Shuri jumped into the driver's seat, pulling off with a loud skid as her tires kissed the pavement.
Riri was livid, shaking in her nearly naked form, and it pissed her off even more to see the smugness that was embedded into your features. Her intentions weren’t to scare you but the fact that you didn’t even show an ounce of fright enraged her.
“Breaking and entering and kidnapping on the same day? Must not be the first crime the two of you have-”
Riri’s hand was around your throat before you could finish your sentence, pressing your body harshly into the leather seats until your head bounced against the headrest, locking you in place.
“You must be out of your fucking mind,” she hurled at you. Your pompous attitude was gone, and fear danced in your gaze. You’d never seen Riri so angry; you didn’t know lividity was a feeling she was capable of.
She didn’t give you a chance to speak, staring at your lips in disgust before she continued. “I hope you happy, baby, because you just cost that man his life.”
Your eyes widened further with horror, and Shuri called out Riri’s name in warning.
Ri scoffed. “Oh, I don’t gotta do shit,” her grip tightened. “Wakanda got a whole ass army who would kill to protect you.”
Alarm bells were ringing in your head and your vision was starting to blur with the lack of oxygen your brain was receiving. You knew you shouldn’t push Riri any further, but the words were out without a second thought.
“They kill for all your hoes?”
Shuri’s foot came down hard on the brakes, and you and Riri jerked forward, but her eyes never left your face. All around you, horns blarred angrily with the Princess’s driving and you could see the swing of headlights from behind as they swerved to avoid ramming into the back of it, but Shuri continued as if she didn’t almost cause the world’s biggest traffic accident.
“You fucking-” Riri’s lips curled. “There are no hoes, y/n. It’s just you, only you.”
She turned to look out the window, seemingly analyzing your surroundings, then spoke to Shuri, “Go to my garage.”
The only response she got back was a silent nod, which she ignored anyway. Riri looked hard at your face, glancing back and forth between your lips and your eyes. “Lick your lips,” she commands.
You do as you’re told, surprisingly, and dart your tongue out to swipe over your lips once, twice, three times. Riri groans at the way they shine once you finish, wet with your spit. “They taste like him?”
Shuri watches through the rearview mirror as you hesitate, then nod. Riri crashes her lips into yours in a harsh kiss. She wants to wipe away any trace of him, any taste, any memory, any thought. She swallows your tongue, moaning as you swap spit, and you bring your arms around her neck to pull her closer.
Riri resists, though, drawing her body back and creating an unwanted distance between the two of you. “What about now?” She asks through pants. “They still taste like him?”
You lick your lips slowly, savoring the taste. Your head shakes from side to side.
“Who they taste like?” She demands.
“You,” you reply breathily.
Before Riri has a chance to respond, the car comes to a stop, and Shuri cuts the engine off. You look around, recognizing the alley that leads to the back entrance of Riri’s garage.
Shuri hops out of the car first, walking around to open your door and offer her hand to help you.
Riri’s already out of the car, walking over to unlock the well-secured garage and stepping inside the darkness.
She swipes a bunch of papers off the thrifted couch that sits next to her desk, and they flutter to the floor like snowflakes.
She pushes you into the cushions, watching your body land with a bounce that exposes your right breast in all its pierced glory.
Riri’s stare at you is lustful and rageful, shaking her with an unusual intensity. Shuri stands beside her, both of them glaring at you, but neither of them moving.
It isn’t until Riri breaks the trance, shaking her head and walking away. “Handle her, man. I need to calm down some before I touch her.”
Now you and Shuri watch as Riri retreats, guilt building up in your little body. You turn back to see Shuri approaching you, unbuttoning her blazer until it swings open. She stops in front of you, fingers toying with the spaghetti straps of your dress. “He touched this,” she states simply.
You nod, “Shuri, I-”
The sound of ripping fabric echoes off the metal walls, and you look down to see Shuri’s torn your dress straight down the plunge.
You can only muster out a pathetic squeak at the sight of what was your favorite dress. Shuri is so close when you look up that you almost headbutt her.
“What is my name?” She growls, accentuating every word.
“D-daddy-” you manage to stutter out.
Mm, she hums, and you shrink into yourself. No ‘good girl’ or praise. Just a hum.
You hadn’t really deserved the praise lately, though.
Her head buried in your neck pulls you away from your thoughts. The feel of her lips and her tongue traveling along the softness of your skin causes your head to lazily tilt to the side, giving her more access.
Her finger juts out to point in the direction Riri wandered in. “And you are hers,” she says with such a harsh bite that you cry out.
She licks away the pain a moment later, “And you are mine.”
Shuri reaches down to pull the shredded dress away from your body and starts kissing down the length of your collarbone. “I’m sorry that video upset you.” She emphasizes each word with a kiss. “And I’m more sorry that my actions upset you.”
Her kisses trail to the valley between your breasts, and your fingers find her curls tangling in them and pressing her closer. “But I am all about you, baby.”
Her kissing stops as she spots your underwear. It’s nothing but a black piece of string tied around your hips and thighs. The thinnest fabric in the world barely covers both your lips down there, and even now, it’s twisted to the point where your slit swallows it.
“You wore these for him?”
You shake your head, missing the feel of her lips on your skin already. “Wore them for you; knew you were there.”
“How-” Shuri starts.
“Your bead. Found it in my purse before I even left the dorm. Spotted the two of you a few minutes after we got to the club-”
Her face twists into an unreadable expression. “You knew we were there and gave us a good ole’ show, baby?”
Your cheeks grow hot, and Shuri shakes her head. “You really were trying to get that man killed.”
She lets her hand trail down your thigh, stopping at the crevice where they meet. You're already so wet, your little cunt drenching your sorry excuse of panties.
One harsh tug, and those too, are nothing but shredded fabric.
The only part of your outfit that isn’t torn and tattered are your heels and when you ask Shuri if she’s gonna go for those next, she ignores you.
“You owe me new clothes,” you grumble under her attack of kisses on your thigh. You whine when she pulls away, sitting up enough that your gazes are aligned.
“I don’t owe you shit but an apology.” Her slender fingers run down the length of your slit, coming back up dripping in your essence. You’re hypnotized, watching in fascination and lust as she brings them to her lips, licking them clean of you and groaning at the taste. “But I’d buy you a closet full of clothes if you asked me to.”
Your thighs part and her head descends between them, licking up the wetness that coats them. “And no,” she says with a breathy moan to your twitchy clit. “I don’t do that for all my hoes.”
And with that, her tongue attacks you. There's nothing but a sense of urgency in the air as Shuri laps at you as if the taste would disappear if she didn’t appreciate it enough. Your moans ring through the garage, loud and echoing.
Shuri’s tongue on your clit is merciless, swiping and sucking. She dips lower, licking a fat, long strip up your slit and her moans tickle you from the inside out. Your thighs on her shoulder are clenched tight around her head, but she couldn’t care less.
You taste like heaven and Shuri never believed in such a place before you. Her tongue stiffens, and then, it’s in your cunt, fucking you feverishly. Your eyes roll and you’re trying so hard to keep them on Shuri.
The sight of her fucking your pussy, drowning in it, is one the tabloids would have never been able to imagine. If they thought an ass-catching princess was scandalous, they’d drop dead at the sight of this.
Movement from the corner of your eyes catches your attention, and it takes all your strength to pull it away from Shuri long enough to notice Ri in the corner, back pressed against the wall, arms crossed in front of her.
Your eyes lock, and you stare at Ri as you pant and groan, as if they were directed towards her. And maybe they were. She shifts uncomfortably at the sounds you make, reaching around to adjust something in her, now unbuttoned pants, but before you have time to question it, Shuri’s tongue in your pussy is replaced by two fingers.
They stretch you out deliciously, and she pulls her head away to admire the way you clench around her. “Demethi, nkosazana,” she mumbles under her breath.
You’d heard her speak enough Xhosa over the years to be able to translate that one. “I’m the princess now?” you stumble and stutter through the question and a red-hot fury makes itself known in your belly with the way she curved her fingers and looks up at you. “My princess,” she responds.
Suddenly, her fingers pick up speed, and she’s added a third, scissoring into you and grinning at the way you stretch around her. “Good girl,” she praises. “Good girl, go ahead and open up for me, hm?”
Ugh, they way they talked to you during sex.. Their words were fucking filthy and the moment they opened their mouths, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
This time was no different. You had been so focused on Shuri, that you didn’t notice Riri stalking toward you.
Shuri noticed, but she was intent on making you come apart before she handed you over. The taste of you was still on her tongue and she signaled Riri to ‘come here’ with a curled finger, while the other mirrored the action deep within your walls.
Riri headed over to Shuri, and upon reaching her, took her chin and tilted it upwards so she could capture her lips in a kiss. You watched as they shared your taste between the two of them, moaning at the sight.
Shuri pulled away first, feeling the way your walls began to swell around her hand. Your orgasm was coming (pun intended), and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on them, you couldn’t. Your head fell back, and your eyes shut so tightly, they were just slits.
Riri just stood and watched, hands tucked in her pockets, and Shuri sang you praises.
“There you go, baby. Let it out.”
You began to splash around her fingers.
“Good girl, nkosazana yam, keep going.”
Your wetness had picked up, as did your cries. Shuri’s forearm was soaked, along with the front of her blazer.
“I’m- fuck! I’m com-” Your sentence was nothing but fragments, but Shuri understood it perfectly well.
“I know baby, come for me,” she cooed. “Umhle kakhulu (So pretty).”
You were already in the midst of coming apart, and Shuri’s fingers didn’t let up, fucking you through your climax. It was such an intense feeling. You felt so full, like the pressure was too much, but Bast, it was so delicious, you didn’t want her to stop.
You wanted your orgasm to keep coming so Shuri’s fingers never left. Unfortunately for you, your well began to run dry and your screams died down to panting breaths. Shuri’s hand slipped out of you with a loud squelch and she lifted them so you could see how much of you was actively dripping from her digits. “Messy girl,” she stated cooly, rising to her feet and taking a step back.
Your thighs were still sky-high and your breathing hadn’t quite leveled out before Riri stepped to where Shuri once stood. She reached into her pants, pulling out a dildo you’d never seen before already strapped to her hilt.
It was made of vibranium, that much was obvious with the deep purple glow. Most of the toys the three of you used were, but this one was different. First of all, it was thick. Fuck the fact that it was already a good 8 or 9 inches long, it wasn’t much smaller than the width of a fucking soda can and you could hear a slight buzzing come from it.
The look on Riri’s face gave away the surprise. It was vibrating, harshly against her clit and when she pressed the tip to your slit, you could feel the vibrations on your end too.
Fuck, she was about to tear you apart.
“You seemed to have wanted dick so damn bad tonight, baby,” her words were still angry as she pushed into you at a snail’s pace.
The stretch was too much, but it felt so fucking good. Your cunt swallowed every inch of her, pulling her in further.
She could feel just how wet you were, how tight you were, having just come. The way you clenched around her almost knocked the wind from her little body, and she had to will herself to take it slow.
“Shit, baby,” she hissed, eyes closed, breathing staggered.
“Riri-” Shuri’s voice sounded out from somewhere in the room, but you were too focused on Ri to search for it.
“What?” She sounded like she was in pain, and still, she wasn’t even fully in you yet.
“Fuck her.”
Riri opened her eyes, burning a hole through yours. Her hips shifted, and she was in you even deeper. “No shit. I ain’ taking orders from you right now,” she growled lowly.
The only warning you got before she buried her entire cock into you was a hand on your hip as she steadied herself. Your scream rang through the room in agony and Ri’s moans harmonized with yours.
The two of you sat, stuck for a moment as she took a few deep breaths, allowing you to adjust.
And then she pulled out, leaving you feeling hollow. The feeling didn’t last long because she thrust back into you, this time much easier than the first.
“Fuck,” you cried, and she did it again, and again, and again, until she’d picked up a steady pace.
Sweat poured down her forehead as she fucked you with the restraint of a fucking God. You were so tight, so wet, so warm. A week was much too long to go without being buried in your cunt and the fact that you’d almost willingly given it to a nigga earlier that night angered her.
Her movements were harsh and rough, and so good. This wasn’t love making, it was fucking.
The kind that sent a tingle to your toes and arched your back to extremes that you didn’t know you were capable of. It was the type that warranted multiple orgasms and the first one ripped through you with a vengeance.
Riri felt it; she felt the way you clenched around her and how your screams pierced the air. She could feel your slick collecting on the pants that she hadn’t bothered to pull all the way down before taking you.
And she didn’t let up. No recovery time this time around. She fucked you through that first orgasm and continued fucking you toward the second.
Your legs clamed around her waist and your arms trapped her face right in front of yours. You could inhale her pants as she dug into you, reciting elements on the periodic table so she didn’t come before she wanted to.
“You been playing games with me, baby,” she whispered to you through her thrusts.
You were too dick-crazed to fully process her sentence at first, but once you did, you responded, “No different than the games you and Shuri been playing.” You sounded like a drunk, but Riri understood every bit of what you said.
Your eyes wandered, rolling back as that second orgasm approached.
“Look at me, baby,” Riri commanded, and she smiled when you obeyed, locking your lust-blown eyes on hers. “There ain’ nobody else, okay?” Her forehead pressed to yours. “I ain’ fucking nobody else like this.” At that, her hips curved and her cock hit the spongy part of your cunt that was the only thing responsible for holding your orgasm at bay.
The second one rolled through you, yet Riri continued as if it hadn’t. She groaned, listening to you moan right in her ear. “That pretty sound right there, fuck. I wanna hear that shit for the rest of my life.” She couldn’t hold back any longer. She was about to come.
Her thrusts slowed and she shuddered, sinking into the suppleness of your touch as your legs kept her buried in your cunt and your nails dug into her back, scratching hard enough to draw little beads of blood.
Shapes, letters, she didn’t know what you were etching into her skin, and it didn’t matter. She groaned, legs shaking as she struggled to stay on them.
Your lip rolled into your mouth at the feel of Riri’s warmth on your inner thighs. “That’s it,” you muttered, low enough for just her to hear. “Come on me, ma.”
Neither of you knew who’s come was who’s on your thighs and neither of you cared. Riri fell apart in your arms, finally coming down long enough to press your lips together in a kiss that was much softer than her thrusts had been.
“You’re mine,” she said against your mouth. “You’re barely hers-” she pointed back at Shuri and wrapped both arms around your middle to press you further against her, as if your bodies could fuse and become one. “Because you are all fucking mine,” she growled and you smiled at her words.
Shuri walked over, slapping her palm against Riri’s ass with a warning. “Watch yourself.” Her head tilted, focusing on Riri’s back and your smile morphed into laughter. Shuri copied you with a chuckle. “Did you write your name in her back, baby?”
You nodded, still laughing, feeling gleeful for the first time in days. “I did,” you stated proudly.
Shuri chuckled again, shaking her head before eying you. “It’s sideways.”
You shrugged, “It’s there.”
“Well,” Shuri declared, moving her fingers to shake off her blazer, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes never left yours as she shrugged her shirt over her head. “Guess I need one to match.”
#shuri x reader#riri x reader#black panther#shuriri x reader#riri williams x reader#shuriri#letitia wright shuri#quintessencewrites#shuri smut#riri smut#letitia wright smut#letitia wright#dominique thorne#kehlani
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Scars Like Cobwebs on Your Face - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader
Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used)
Genre: fluff
Word Count: 2 246
Warnings: SPOILER FOR UP TO CHAPTER 213, facial scars, mentions of past wounds and blood
Summary: The first time, Megumi spots the scars on your face
Masterlist
It was the first warm day of spring, when Megumi noticed the fine scars on your face. The two of you were sitting outside at one of the tables underneath the blooming Sakura blossoms. The sun had gained its strength back in the last couple of days, and finally it was warm enough to sit outside. Megumi was glad he had recovered from the whole ordeal of last autumn and winter enough to spend the first real day of spring outside with you. Even though right now you were working on a project Gojō had given to the two of you.
Megumi wondered if his white-haired and cockier than ever teacher couldn’t have spared them this stupid project in the last week of their first year, especially since it had been less than a month since Megumi had woken up after the final battle in Shinjuku. But Gojō was annoying and had given them the task anyway.
The classroom felt strangely empty without Kugisaki there, but Yūji made up for it with being more energetic than ever. Much to Megumi’s surprise Yūji had even been the first one to finish his part for the group work, and since he had been sent on a small mission, this left Megumi and you to add the finishing touches. Not that Megumi was complaining about the time he got to spend with you. No, much on the contrary. He was very pleased to get some alone time with you, even though he would have preferred spending it by talking about almost anything other than homework.
A soft spring breeze was tucking at the cardigan you had wrapped around your shoulders, and absentmindedly you pulled it back into place, ignoring the strand of hair that had blown into your face and now clung to your cheek. Megumi wished he could reach over and brush it behind your ear, but his heart stuttered at the mere thought of it. Unthinkable to actually do it. But his eyes stayed glued to your face, watching as you leant closer over the paper, writing tiny signs neatly into the lines.
The sunlight caught delicately on your lashes, making them glow, and the shadow of a few blossoms painted faint shadows on your skin. It was then that Megumi noticed the fine line that stretched from the side of your nose down to the corner of your mouth.
He blinked, surprised that he had never seen the scar before, and leant in a little closer; just a little so you wouldn’t notice while being focused on your course work. The scar was several shades lighter than your skin tone, and left and right of it, Megumi could even see the small puncture wounds where it had been stitched. His heart hurt at the thought that at one point you had been injured badly enough to having had to get stitches, especially in the face. He wondered when it had happened. During the culling game? He was fairly certain that you hadn’t had this scar last summer. He had spent enough time staring at you to know.
His eyes skipped further over your features, as if searching for any other imperfections he had not previously spotted, and stopped on another, short but equally fine line under your right eye. It was slightly discolored, barely noticeable even in the bright light of the afternoon sun, but now that Megumi really looked at you, he could just about make it out. Even though the wound had long healed, the proximity to your eyes unsettled him. How close you had been to losing your eye to whatever had caused that wound! Megumi’s eyes flickered over to your left side, almost as if to assure himself that your other eye was fine, had never been as close to losing sight as the right one.
Instead of comfort, he found another thin line under your eye, this one even closer to your lashes. And there, very faint but definitely there, were small scars on your eyelid. On your eyelid! Which god had looked out for you when you had been hurt that day, whenever that had been?
Megumi worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he kept studying the fine scars on your skin, when suddenly a thought popped into his head, that made him almost physically sick. Had he been the one who had caused these scars? Had that happened during the short battle you and Yūji had fought against Sukuna? Had Megumi’s own hands caused these scars that now spread over your face like thin cobwebs?
“You can ask, you know? I won’t be mad.”
The sound of your voice tore Megumi out of his thoughts. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, not turning your head to look at him. It was then, that Megumi realized just how close he had moved, his nose almost bumping your cheek. His breath caught in his throat, but instead of pulling away, he only tilted his head. The motion caused the distance between your faces to increase by a fraction, but you, instead of pulling away fully, turned your head just enough to be able to look at him better, immediately narrowing the gap again.
Megumi swallowed.
“Ask what,” he wondered, feigning innocence.
You rolled your eyes, before focusing back on him, your gaze tracking his as his eyes flickered back to the scars.
“Don’t play dumb Fushiguro. We both know you’re not.”
“I’m not sure I want to know the truth,” he answered, more honestly this time, the way your tongue darted out, wetting your lips not escaping his attention. He wondered what they tasted like.
“Just ask.”
“How did you get these-”
He didn’t finish the sentence, and instead reached up with his hand, brushing the fingertip of his index finger over the scar by your nose and then over the one underneath your left eye. Had your breath just hitched? He quickly pretended to cover the slight contact up by tucking the strand of hair out of your face where it had still clung to your cheek.
“Sukuna,” you answered, and Megumi felt his heart plummet. “He kicked me off that roof and straight through the window of an office building. I was able to catch the worst impact, but not the glass splinters.”
Megumi felt his throat close up. It had been him, who had injured him, his own hands had hurt you, caused you pain. How were you even able to stand looking at his face? He tried hard to get his breathing back in check, his hands tensing into fists involuntarily, nails digging into his palms painfully.
“Stop it,” you whispered, and Megumi wondered if you had leant even closer. Your warm breath fanned cover his skin comfortingly, your familiar scent filled his nose and calmed him down. “Stop. I know what’s going on in this head and I don’t like it.” Your warm hand came up to the side of his face, your thumb brushing over his cheeks softly, before it fell back into your lap. “I don’t like it. Not one bit. Megumi, it wasn’t you, who hurt me. And I don’t blame you.”
“But if I- if I had tried to-“
“Shut up.”
For the fraction of a second Megumi was tempted to answer with a stubborn ‘make me’ just to find out if you’d kiss him to shut him up, like in this one movie you had watched together the other weekend, you and him sitting somewhat closer than he usually would have deemed acceptable between friends. But to him you were not just a friend. And he was not ready for the feeling of disappointment that would settle in his chest if you didn’t kiss him to shut him up. But he didn’t have much more time to think about it, because after a short pause you continued talking.
“I don’t blame you. Nobody does. I’m just glad you’re back with me.”
His eyes widened slightly at your words. Not back with ‘us’, but back with ‘me’. His cheeks burnt up with a blush as you watched his reaction before you nudged your nose against his very softly as if you were scared to overstep a boundary. But you didn’t even have to move in to nudge him like this, that was how close the two of you had gravitated towards each other already.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Your voice was only a whisper, your lips already so close to his that he could literally feel them move around the words they formed.
“Do you want me to,” he asked back equally quiet, his heart beating hard in his chest.
“I’ve wanted you to kiss me since last summer, but thanks for noticing,” you teased, making him almost laugh.
“Sorry,” he whispered, “for making you wait.”
And with that he lent in the last fraction of an inch, eyes fluttering closed, pressing his lips to yours firmly.
He could feel the shiver than ran through you, how you shifted closer to him, one hand coming to rest on his knee beside you, the other reaching up to his neck. Cool fingertips ghosted over the baby hair on his nape twirled them for a moment before wrapping more tightly into his longer strands. A strange sensation of victory settled in Megumi’s heart as he, spurred on by your touch, found the courage to reach out too, settling his hands on your waist. He struggled to understand how he got lucky enough to find himself in this position, how he deserved to sit under cherry blossoms and kiss you. It hardly seemed possible that you returned his feelings, but your lips against his, your hand in his hair, the little shivers that ran through your body every time he shifted his palms against the rigid fabric of your uniform assured him of your feelings.
There were no words needed, and when your tongue nudged against his lips almost hesitantly, there were no words left in his head anyway. All his focus was on you, the rest of the world had stopped existing, as far as he cared. Whenever he peeked out from underneath his lashes, he could see your skin, your own lashes fluttering against your cheeks, resting on these fine scars he had only noticed today for the first time.
His nose was filled with the scent of your hair, his heart beating so loud in his ears that he struggled out make out the uneven, almost shaky breaths you took as you pressed closer to him. Your lips tasted sweet, like the iced tea the two of you had shared at the vending machine before coming here, and Megumi wondered if his lips tasted the same. Underneath his palms, he could feel the shifting of your muscles, your warmth seeping through the fabric. And suddenly it was all too much. Not that he could ever get enough of you, but his senses seemed to go into overdrive, and Megumi pulled away, leaning back while gasping for breath, his eyes widened.
“Megumi,” alarmed you pulled your hands away from where they had rested on his body, and immediately he missed your touch. “What’s wrong?”
A smile tucked at his lips then, one of these rare smiles, that you once had told him you liked seeing on him so much.
“Just- overwhelmed,” he admitted, and he watched you bite your lip, almost as if you were ashamed. Gods, now he knew what your lips felt like on his, what they tasted like. He wanted to taste them again.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, sitting back properly again from where you had shifted to be closer to him.
“I’m not,” Megumi shook his head. “So you don’t be it either. I just… I’ve gotta get used to it. If you want.”
You looked up at him again, your eyes shimmering with something Megumi had seen in your expression only a few times before. He hadn’t been able to put a word to it then, but he was now: love.
“Absolutely,” you nodded, a smile growing brighter on your lips.
Megumi was pretty sure his heart was about to give out with how frantically it was beating. He had liked you almost for a whole year, practically since the day you had showed up for the first class of the school year. You had had him wrapped around your little finger from the first day on, with how clever you were, how you handled his sarcasm and shot right back, with how you took no shit, dealt with Gojō and everything else really. And now that you knew of his feelings for you, you had not turned him down. How had he gotten so lucky?
“Can I kiss you again,” Megumi asked, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.
When you nodded, he brought his hand up to your chin, cupping it softly, and leant in again, placing a soft, lingering kiss to your mouth. Nothing as deep as the first one, but just enough to catch another taste of the sweetness of your lips.
“I could get used to that,” you whispered, as Megumi pulled away from the short kiss to be able to look at you, his thumb ghosting absentmindedly over the scar between your nose and your lips.
He nodded in agreement and smiled again.
“That can be arranged,” he chuckled and leant in again.
@delzinrowe @hugesimp1234
#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#fushiguro megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi x yn#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x y/n#megumi fushiguro x yn#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi x yn#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x you#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x yn#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x yn#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n#mad jjk
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CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷
07. i hate men (except you two) ☆
writing in-between cuts!
yuuta practically flies to where his friends are, feeling horrible after seeing maki's tweet. he really does make them wait forever sometimes. it's not his fault! he just.. looses track of time... all the time.
"ah, the man of the hour finally arrives." maki teases, sitting up from the bench her and toge were sitting on. out of all his breath, yuuta bends over with his hands on his knees. "yes. here i am, heaving, because you two rushed me." a laugh rises from the boy beside him, paired with a small push. "isn't being dramatic my thing?"
the three begin walking, and yuuta feels as if the whole time, maki's eyes are burning holes into his side. he tries to ignore it until he cant anymore- eventually curiosity (and anxiety) gets the best of him. "why are you staring so much?" he asks, and notices as soon as he turns his head to her, suddenly her eyes are fixated on the sidewalk in front of them instead. she sighs, "i'm just shocked you didn't invite y/n, i was kinda hoping you would ask if she could come." yuuta stays silent, utterly confused. was it wrong to not invite her? i mean, we all consider her a friend- but by the way maki worded her text, it seemed like she didn't want her to come..? toge chimes in, realizing yuuta doesn't know what to say next. "yeah, last night, her and nobara were conspiring on the phone about this for like.. hours. you were supposed to invite her, and we were supposed to leave you two alone after a while" now, yuuta is even MORE confused. but, at least he conveys it in words this time. "what? why? i would've invited her, but it seemed like you didn't want her to come!" toge turns around to maki, giving her the most intense 'i told you so' look he's ever given. she brushes him off with a click of her tongue, despite knowing he's right. the rest of maki's words resonate in yuuta's head, and he continues. "also- what do you mean leave us alone?" maki sighs again, and yuuta wishes he could ignore the feeling of guilt pooling inside of him. they had a whole plan, and he'd ruined it. even more so, he unknowingly left out the girl he'd wanted to be with the most. "we're trying to get you to confess having a crush on her already." she says, in a matter-of-fact manner. yuuta scoffs at this point, already feeling like he'd ruined the whole night. "i don't need you guys to conspire for me. if i ever decide to confess to her, i will. getting us alone won't help either-- i was alone with her last night and still had crippling anxiety." the two friends laugh, and practically shrug it off.
"...did i do the wrong thing by not inviting her?"
"yeah, but it's okay."
the facetime call clicks on, and immediately yuuji's voice chimes through. "y/n!!" you laugh, setting your phone up next to you in a way that your friends can see your face. the next person to join the call was nobara, and you can tell she's fresh out of the shower. her hair is wet, and her camera is slightly blurry- from steam, you assume. "what's up bitches! yuuji, are you setting up the server?" an affirmative hum comes from the other end of the line, indicating that he is. nobara's phone gets noticeably closer to her face, and you can only feel like she's examining you.
...of course she is. "y/n, are you alright?" you nod, and smile back at your phone. "i'm okay, nobara. it's really not that big of a deal. they're just going downtown, and like megumi said, they were all friends before i came here." you notice yuuji's face starts to soften from the focused one he had on beforehand, seemingly feeling bad for you, yet not saying anything. she sighs, and puts her phone down to rub a towel through her hair. her voice echoes a bit due to her being far away. "you know, though. last night, maki and i made this big plan for yuuta to invite you out with them. i have no idea what happened to it." before you can respond, the sound of megumi joining the call resonates throughout everyones phones. it gives you a split second to feel an uncertain feeling run through your stomach. "do you think.. she told him about it?" you think out loud at this point, knowing your friends would never judge how you feel. "she very well could have, and he could've hated the idea of it." nobara's head shakes aggressively, and water droplets fly all over the camera. "shit! no- no, y/n. no way she told him, he was supposed to do it on his own accord. i guess he fucked up, i'm sure maki has told him now though." you scoff, "how is that supposed to make me feel better though?! that just means he wasn't even thinking about it." a long groan comes from the other girl once again, and she picks up her phone- her whole face filling the screen. if you weren't upset, you'd be laughing at the sight. "if what i hear from maki is the truth, this guy is literally whipped for you. you have nothing to worry about, he's just an idiot." she puts her phone down again, and walks off to most likely put her towel away. the call goes silent, and to the other two boys, it's obvious you're thinking to yourself. her and maki talk about me and yuuta? well, i'd be surprised if they didn't, but they think he likes me back? there's no way in hell he does if he forgot about me. you put your head in your hands, and now it's your time to groan. except, instead of an annoyed one, it comes out as frustrated and lovesick. "i hate men." you mutter, words muffled by your palms. both yuuji and megumi chime in with a synchronized "hey!" which makes you laugh, pulling your head up. "except for you two."
after playing for what seems like a few hours, a disconnection sound turns everyone's attention back to their phones. "who the hell disconnected?" nobara asks, grabbing her phone at the same time as you. yuuji gasps and begins typing rapidly. "it was megumi!"
you and nobara give eachother a knowing look, before you realize there are unchecked notifications on your phone. "oh, guys- yuuta texted me." your voice seems soft, but not upset. nobara hums, "what did he say?" the sound of phones chiming over the call seems to be her answer, you'd sent a screenshot of it. "i don't think i'm going to answer him.. not right now."
fun facts -> yuuta paced around his room, wondering whether or not he should ask maki if y/n could come. her text seemed passive-aggressive, but he could've just been overthinking it. he ultimately decided against it (despite really wanting her to be there), because he didn't want to make his friends uncomfortable. toge knewwww yuuta would do this after maki sent her text, and tried to convince her to just invite y/n herself. but, being her stubborn self, she didn't. drats!! foiled again :/
-> i hope there isn't too much writing...... but anyways ! miscommunication <3
previous, masterlist, next [08. grow some balls!!]
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#jujutsu kaisen#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#jjk smau#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#yuuta okkotsu fluff#yuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu smau#yuuta smau#yuuta x you#jjk crack#jjk texts#yuuta fluff#yuta fluff#yuuta okkotsu x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x fem!reader#jjk yuuta#okkotsu yuta#yuta x you#yuta x y/n#yuuta fluff#yuuta fic#jjk#jjk yuta
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