#i am in tears at the idea of how much time i can spend in the fandom
Text
Shadows and Surprises (3)
Part 3 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! Enjoyyyy!
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Warnings: vague mentions of family difficulties.
Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe
Y/N POV
You groaned as you dragged yourself from the bed, the knocking at your door more insistent now. You pulled the door open and gaped, seeing Azriel standing there behind it.
"Hi" he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and nervous.
"Hi" you replied, holding the door a little wider open, a silent offering for him to come into your apartment. He accepted, his wings tucked in tightly to avoid knocking into you or the doorframe as he walked into your living room. The room was a mess - you never had the time or energy to clean it these days. When you weren't working at the bookstore, you were sleeping away your nausea and indigestion. You knew growing a baby would be exhausting, but this surpassed all of your expectations.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" you joked, leaning against the sofa edge to support yourself. You hadn't expected Azriel to show up at your apartment. In fact, you hadn't expected to see him again. It wasn't that you thought he was a bad male and would deliberately want to shirk his responsibilities - but he was responsible for the safety of an entire Court, and a baby likely wasn't in his plans.
"We need to talk", was all he replied. You stared at him silently, encouraging him to go on.
"I don't know what I am doing. It's not that I never wanted children, I do, I just didn't expect to have any at this time in my life. But I want to be there. I want to be involved. I know what it feels like to have a broken family and feel like a burden, like you're unloveable, and I don't want my child to ever question if I love them". He had tears in his eyes, and you realised there was probably a lot of unspoken, unshared pain behind them that you might never know. But it was enough. You had your own pain that you hadn't shared with him, and you couldn't expect disclosure from him if you weren't willing to return the gesture. Not yet.
You reached out to touch his arm in comfort and, much to your surprise, Azriel caught your arm before you could reach him and pulled you into his chest. You nuzzled in and he rested his head on top of yours, a deep sigh sounding in the otherwise silent room.
"We will need to plan logistics", he said into your hair, ever the pragmatist.
"Yes Mr Spymaster, we can plan logistics", you chuckle back.
"I'm serious", he says, pulling away to look at you. He scans your body from head to toe, and you realise he is surveying you. Taking an inventory. "I can see how tired you are, are you not sleeping? You know it's not good for the baby if you're not resting, right?".
You laugh, your heart warm at the fact that Azriel was suddenly so concerned for yours and the baby's welfare.
"Az, it's hard to sleep when you single-handedly run a business and a home", you gesture around yourself at the piles of dirty dishes, laundry, the thick layer of dust on the broken fireplace. Azriel's eyes followed yours, and you suddenly felt ashamed. Your apartment was far from perfect. Your landlord was quite the absentee, so your broken fire place had gone unfixed for several winters now. As had the poorly insulated windows, the kitchen sink tap which sometimes decided to spray you down when you turned it on, and the mould forming around the edges of the bathroom floor. Whilst your bookstore was successful, life in Velaris was still expensive, and you couldn't really afford much better.
"Then you move in with me", he said. You simply gaped.
"In your own room, of course", he added quickly. "You will have your own room and your own space".
"Az, I couldn't ask you to do that" you replied, pulling out of his embrace.
"You're not asking. I am insisting. I don't fancy showing up here one day and finding you rabid from a rat bite", you notice him glance over to a hole in the skirting board of your kitchen.
"It's not a rat, it's a mouse, her name is Daisy and she would never bite me", you retort. Admittedly, you didn't like sharing your living space with Daisy, even if you were somewhat confident that she wouldn't bite you. Somewhat.
Azriel only chuckled. "I insist", I will ask Rhys and Cassian to come and help move your belongings over to the House of Wind".
Rhys, Cassian, House of Wind. You were moving into the centre of the Night Court. Azriel felt your shiver.
"Don't worry, only Cassian and I live there. He will dote over you more than I will - he will carry you everywhere if you ask".
Cassian. Lord of Bloodshed. Commander of the Night Court armies.
Azriel could see the uncertainty in your face and pulled you back to his chest. "Relax, they are just normal people, I promise they will love you. Mor will be so happy to finally have another female in her presence she probably won't leave you alone."
"Mor?" you asked.
"Rhys' cousin and third in command" he replied. You could sense from his tense stance that there was some history there, but decided now wasn't the time to broach it.
"Ok", you sighed, "when do we make this happen?".
Azriel smiled. "Now".
Azriel's POV
After reaching out to Rhys, Azriel took y/n's hand and let her lead him to her bedroom to start packing. It was only about 10 minutes later that another knock sounded at the door, and Azriel opened it to see Rhysand and Cassian beaming behind. They both walked into the apartment.
"A new chapter, brother" Cassian said, pulling Azriel into a hug. Rhysand smiled as he watched them, giving Azriel a hearty pat on the shoulder. They both turned to the door of y/n's bedroom as they watched her appear, shyly holding a box of her belongings. Cassian was the first to approach her, giving her a huge smile and taking the box from her hands. Azriel noticed that Cassian's smile only grew wider when he looked down to y/n's stomach and saw the small swelling.
"Welcome to the family, y/n" he said, putting the box on the floor and offering his arms out to her. She stepped forward slowly into them, but seemed to warm into his embrace. He could almost feel her relief. Rhysand stepped forward, careful not to appear intimidating. Whilst Rhys had the kindest soul Azriel had known, his power was palpable, and capable of intimidating just about anyone. He saw y/n peer past Cassian at Rhys, who simply offered his hand to her. She accepted as Rhys brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of her fist.
"It is an honour to meet you, y/n", he said. Y/n blushed so deeply he had to withhold a laugh. Y/n mumbled something quite incoherent in response, which earned her a chuckle from Rhys.
"Let's get moving, shall we?", Cassian called out, holding onto the first of y/n's boxes and flying off towards the House of Wind.
-
It took a few hours, but eventually all of y/n's belongings had been moved into her new bedroom. Azriel watched as y/n took in the room. He had picked a room a few doors down from his, to give y/n her privacy, but to be close enough in case she needed anything. Cassian's room was a few doors the other way, so she was sandwiched between the pair of them. Azriel hoped that that way, if anything happened, one of them would be there to help.
"You are welcome to change the room however you wish", Rhys said, appearing in the doorframe. "Paint it, change the furniture, whatever you want - this is your room and you can do with it as you like".
"Thank you", y/n replied, breathless in wonder. The bedroom was almost the size of her entire apartment had been, and Az could see that she was starting to feel overwhelmed. He silently gestured for his brother to leave them and walked to y/n's side.
"Are you ok?", he asked.
"Yes", y/n replied, "just a bit shocked at how this day has turned out. It's certainly not what I expected. Who knew how much could change over an indigestion tonic". She laughed, but it sounded more hollow than normal.
"I'm sorry", Azriel said, his hand rubbing circles on y/n's back.
"What for?".
"I don't know. I just felt like a sorry was warranted right now".
"You're daft".
Azriel shook his head, hiding a smile that had crept onto his face. No wonder he had been enamoured with you that night. You were one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by him. Who spoke your mind to him. He appreciated it more than he would tell you.
"Mor and Amren are joining us for a family dinner tonight, but you don't need to come if you are feeling tired or not up for it. They will all understand and we can have your food brought up here".
Y/n looked up at him and gave him a small, watery smile.
"I think I would like that", she replied. Azriel couldn't hid his smile in response.
"Great, dinner is at 7, I'll leave you to have a rest now and come and get you to take you down to the dining room just before". With that, he departed, closing the bedroom door behind him.
Y/N's POV
I think I would like that.
WHAT.
You didn’t know what had come over you. Of course you wanted to meet Azriel’s family, eventually. But most females are wined and dined before being introduced to a male’s family. Then again, most females are wined and dined before having a male’s baby, so if anything, you were at least consistent.
Your new home was nothing short of show-stoppingly beautiful. Your bedroom, which was fit for a queen, followed a pearlescent theme, with light marble furniture. The walls, which were a shade of muted light gold, rivalled any room you had lived in before. Rhys’ offer to re-design the room was kind, but you’d be crazy to want to change a single thing. The bed, clearly designed for Illyrian wings, would fit 5 of you with space, and had the softest duvet you could imagine. It felt like stroking a cloud. You felt a momentary panic that you had, in fact, fallen asleep when you had intended to nap - and dreamt this entire encounter. You pinched yourself hard and yelped. No, this was very real. You hopped into the bed, and sleep took you immediately.
-
A soft knock at your door had you leaning up on your shoulders. You took a moment to remember your surroundings.
“Come in”, you called.
Azriel walked into the room and you had to force your jaw not to drop open. Clad in his Illyrian leathers, he looked devastating.
“It’s almost time for dinner, are you sure you’d like to join?”, he asked, taking in your bed hair.
“Yes, yes, sorry just a minute!”, you jumped from the bed and ran in front of the vanity mirror, smoothing down the knots that had formed from your tossing and turning. Azriel chuckled and walked over to you, reaching out to untangle a knot that had formed by the back of your neck. You froze as his hands brushed against you, gently pulling the hair free. When you looked presentable, you turned to face him and took a deep breath.
“You ready?”, he asked.
“Ready”.
#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#azriel x reader
131 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi gorgeous!! I haven’t gotten a chance to respond to your message about jason x booknerd!reader, but I wanted to quickly message and tell you that I’ve read it and I’m absolutely in love! You literally always come up with such good ideas, idk how you do it!! You’re awesome and ily!!
-(@midnightorchids)
Jason with a Bookworm!S/O
A/N: I know school has started back up for you again babe, so I don't blame you :((( I was originally planning to expand this for you, hopefully you can read this during a study break or some down time (i might repeat some stuff - just look away). It's IB exam season where I am so I share in your pain. Hang in there dude!! Summer is almost here!!
Masterlist
He's a vintage paperback and leather-bound kinda guy. Crime, Sci-Fi, historical-fiction/romance, magical-realism, and non-fiction are his go-to genres. Favourite authors include; Margret Atwood, Kurt Vonnegut, Haruki Murakami, Frank Herbert, and probably M.T Anderson. He's only a little pretentious about it.
He can spend hours in used book stores digging through the big plastic bins and stuffed cardboard boxes. You help him find specific authors or titles, your basket heavy with your combined finds. He'll carry the bags back to your apartment, his other hand tucked into yours as you gush about excited you are to sort and organise your new additions to your shared library.
He still has some books that Bruce and Alfred gave hm before his murder. Leather bond additions of the Liliad and rare printings of Dracula and Frankenstein. They have these little notes left in the front pages from Bruce that he couldn't bring himself to tear out or throw away entirely. And if you thought his home library was huge- wait until you see the book shelves in his old room.
Since he doesn't spend that much money on himself, he now has every chance to spoil you with your own special additions of your favourite stand-alone's, expensive book-marks, and lavish coffee dates where both of you enjoy your books over the smoothest of richest of espresso.
In the early months of your relationship, most of your dates were spent at bookstores, thrift-shops, and libraries. Your love quite literally grew from the yellowed, torn pages your would both get lost in.
Once his home library combined with yours, most of your bedroom and living room wall space became covered with his floor to ceiling bookshelves. Your bedside tables would each have a small stack of books that you were currently reading.
He absolutely loves how you look with your reading glasses. He thinks it's too cute when you push them up with the back of your hand, entirely focused on an intense passage. Your eyes going wide or your breath stopping at a beautiful line. Your adorable focused stare and sweet round cheeks are accentuated fully. He should be reading the book in his own lap but he's entirely distracted by you. You shut the book with a thump and immediately turn to him to gush about the chapter you just finished only to have his hands catch your jaw and bring your smiling lips against his. And suddenly, you forgot what you were going to say to him.
Jason finds lines and prose in his books that remind him of you and highlight them. He would keep them in a note stack on his phone, just to read them back to remind himself of your beauty. It's something that he could never put into words himself, hence one of the reasons why he adores reading so much. He can find the right order of words that properly express his infinite adoration and care for you.
I've explored this before but you guys have a set date once a month where you'll sit in each-others arms and just read all day. You'll curl up in one of his sweaters with one of your thick Sanderson novels and he'll tuck a blanket around his lap with his special addition of 'Little Women' open in his lap. He'll refill your tea mug because it's always hard to pull you out of your book during your reading days.
You'll order in some warm comfort food for supper and talk about your books respectively. He'll gush about how Jo March is such a revolutionary character and how Amy is actually a metaphor for the loss of innocence girls experience when attempting to emulate patriarchal standards of womanhood.
All while you gaze lovingly back into his eyes, your chin resting on your palm - wondering if a marriage proposal would be too sudden for your evening conversation.
#jason todd imagine#jason todd#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#robin jason todd#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#batfam#jason todd x you#jason todd comfort#red hood x fem!reader#dc robin#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood#batfamily#jason peter todd#dc red hood#the red hood
119 notes
·
View notes
Note
Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!
Absolutely!
I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.
I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.
Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.
Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"
"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."
You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"
Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."
"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."
You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.
He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eternity and Counting
(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.
Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)
TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time
MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.
(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)
~/\~
It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.
My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.
I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.
~/\~
(Mammon's POV)
A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.
My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.
"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.
"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."
I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.
Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.
"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"
(Raghhhh, sorry about this)
-Your dear friend, the author
#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me#mammon x reader#obey me mammon#obey me diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me angst#why did i make this#send help#obey me leviathan#obey me x mc#obey me belphegor
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
gently wipe the sorrow off my life, i dream
scaramouche x gn!reader
summary: "you didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed." you're surprised and completely heartbroken when your lover, kunikuzushi, suddenly disappears without a trace. you think it's the end of the world, with your heart open and bleeding but soon you discover, that there is still happiness waiting for you.
tags: based on the prompt "there’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you", scara's real name used, modern au (from highschool to college), scara basically pulls an irminsul but why? blame dottore angst/bittersweet, [name] is very much going through it </3 title name taken from the honkai star rail song "if i can stop one heart from breaking". not proofread
notes: hi. i come back with angst! written for @thexianzhoujade's personal memoires event and truthfully i kinda hate this fic HAJAHS but this is fine i am not fine blah blah blah yippee. i forgot how to write scara so sorry if this fic is kinda ooc but yeahhh have fun enjoy !! <3 as if anyone is going to enjoy angst LMAO
“Come on, it’s just one photo and besides, we barely have pictures of us…”
“...just one, fine. Get in here.”
A part of you wished you had taken more pictures with him. Pictures from dates in the blooming parks, from hangouts with your friends after school, from spending time together at his place, something to fill up the empty photo album you found hidden in your room. You filled only a few pages, with a few pictures of you and Kunikuzushi, of you taken by your friends, of your family during holidays, pictures of you and your friends, his friends, a picture of him you took when he didn’t see– the one you considered putting in your wallet, laughing how you’d look like a spouse missing their husband.
(You counted exactly six photos of him in your album, compared to the twenty or so with others. Barely a quarter, not even a half, barely a page and a half of the album.)
You moved your fingers over one of them, the one you took after graduation– laughing with your friends, posing at the camera, tightly holding his hand, and tugging him closer, and wondered.
Did it have to end like this? If you only knew what was happening, would you somehow fix it in time?
Things were… nice, before. Being with him was nice, even if his personality sometimes made you tug at your hair in annoyance. But you found a common language and spoke in it till the very end, sharing your joy and sadness, annoyance and anger, silent tears and gentle fluttering in your chests.
When you first met Kunikuzushi in school, you had your opinions about him– he wasn’t the nicest, wasn’t talking with many other students, and seemingly valued his time alone more than with someone. You understood it, some people simply weren’t the social butterflies but it became a problem when, by some unlucky charm (at least, you thought it was unlucky then), you ended up together to work on a project. You didn’t know him and your teacher decided to pair you by herself, saying how she wanted her students to interact more with each other. It seemed like a terrible idea at first.
(You rolled your eyes, giving a look to your friend. You really didn’t entertain this idea– to do a big project with someone other than your friend? You dealt with enough shitty groupmates leaving you on read or delivered in your life, and that was for small projects! What if you got someone as shitty as them? You shuddered at the thought alone.)
But, oh, how wrong you were. You didn’t expect to befriend that guy, and yet a few months in, Kunikuzushi became your best friend, and a year later– your lover.
You remembered that love confession like yesterday; a little awkward, he jumbled over his words and you said something stupid in return, laughing awkwardly at yourself and almost getting up from that bench and marching back home. It was late, the bench in the park illuminated by the streetlight. A part of you was sure he planned for the confession to look different, yet whatever his ideal plan was, you wouldn’t exchange what you got for it.
He walked you back home, you remembered, holding your hand.
To say you were happy was an understatement. Something bloomed in your chest with every day spent together with him, the little affections between you warming your heart and cheeks, and every morning seemed… a little brighter. It wasn’t wake up, get dressed, go to school, spend majority of your day studying, sleep, anymore.
Wake up, reply to Kunikuzushi’s late night message he sent. Get dressed and don’t forget about that chain necklace with a pendant he gave you for your birthday (you were matching, of course you were matching). Go to school and spend the day with your friends, with Kunikuzushi, with his friends (although you weren’t sure if that ginger guy was really his friend, but…). Spend the rest of your day studying, texting, and sometimes hanging out if you had free time (which turned into weekly hangouts with all your friends and… sometimes, more than once a week, just you and Kunikuzushi). Text him goodnight and smile at his, although short, reply back. Sleep.
You hoped it would stay like this… for longer. For as long as possible, just living in this bliss, being happy and not alone, with people you loved and who loved you back, some even more than others.
(Selfishly, you wanted that to last forever. Forever the high school student with no worries other than passing exams and doing your homework on time. Forever with your friends, spending weekends with them, having fun and not caring about anything else. Was it selfish to want to be happy forever?)
Kunikuzushi was here with you for all your problems, even if, truthfully, he wasn’t the best at solving them, and neither he was good at words. But he was still here, offering you support and letting you talk about what annoyed you, what made you sad and sometimes, he still would try to comfort you, loudly agreeing with your complaints, (lovingly) threatening to beat someone up if they were an asshole to you, telling you to not worry. It wasn’t the end yet.
His presence alone helped you manage through harder days– it was better to be with someone after all, rather than spend your days wallowing in sadness alone, with only the walls willing to listen.
(You offered him help, too. Quietly sitting and listening to his rants about his mother, squeezing his hand and tugging him closer to you– or simply being next to him, when touch was something unwanted.)
When graduation came, in bittersweet tears you promised your friends (and Kunikuzushi, of course) to still be in touch with them, and never leave them alone just because you weren’t students from the same class anymore. That didn’t change anything, no.
The summer vacation you spent mostly with your friends, hanging out and enjoying the warm, summer weather. So many trips, so many walks with Kunikuzushi and dates– oh, that picnic you two went on one day… it started raining at one point (the weather reports lied to you, it seemed) and you only had a blanket to cover yourself from the rain. How funny it was, how much you wished you could get the chance to do it again, with him–
You sighed, closing the album. Sometime before the summer’s end, right before the start of college, you noticed… changes in Kunikuzushi’s behavior. He still was your lover, caring about you in his own ways, he still was the man you loved, but something seemed to always bug him. Something seemed to sit on his shoulders, heavy. You always asked him if he was okay because yes, yes, you noticed his worse mood, noticed all the little things he tried to hide and you were worried, really worried, and–
And yet, you never got a proper answer. Always to not worry, that nothing was wrong, and you were tired of that, maybe if you, at least this once, pressed him for answers, during that summer night you called a date–
Maybe you would know why he suddenly disappeared without a trace.
The many messages you sent, the many unanswered calls– you asked your friends around, his friends, and were greeted with radio silence in answer. You didn’t know what happened, why it happened and that was breaking your heart, cutting it open, leaving burning pain in your chest, where once flowers of love bloomed.
(These flowers would never truly burn, you feared. Some would still leave, polluting your heart and making it harder to breathe.)
What was once beautiful turned into a burden, far too heavy to carry alone. There was so much stress on your plate– because what if something happened to him? What if someone did something to him, what if there was something you could do to change it? Why were you so distracted throughout the day? Why was it hard to get up in the morning, why the only thing you wanted to do was to wait at your phone, with hopes of seeing at least a single message from him? Where went your motivation to study, to do well in college as you promised yourself?
Where was he? What happened? Could you change it?
Were you at fault?
(No, of course you weren’t. You did everything in your power, but it just wasn’t enough. None of this was your fault.)
Were you alone in it?
…no, you weren’t. It felt like you were, especially at first; with new people around you, your friends offering you support but ultimately being busy, you felt alone. Terribly so, loneliness gnawing at your soul all the time, leaving the icy cold feeling in its wake.
But life forced you to get up from that pit, whether you wanted that or not. You couldn’t fail your major, not when you worked so hard to get into it in the first place. And neither you wanted to completely cut off your friends, so you started replying to their texts more. You’ve met new people, too, and made new friendships.
Things were getting back on track after, you thought that they wouldn’t. You pulled yourself up with your own strength, with your friends cheering for you from the distance, their cheers putting a smile on your face.
(Younger you thought that if you ever were to break up with Kunikuzushi, the world would simply… end. You ignored that thought creeping into your mind, waved it away, pushed it deep at the bottom of your mind. It wouldn’t happen.)
Now, as you looked at the pictures, you still felt a sharp pang in your chest. You missed him, yes, and you still thought about the days you spent together with him, but they no longer brought you back into that darkness you once experienced.
They were a bittersweet memory now. Ones, you would cherish till the end, gently putting them on the shelf with new, happy memories.
You hummed to yourself in thought, tapping at the cover of the album with your nail. Maybe instead of pondering how you should take more photos of the past, maybe you should take more of the future? Fill the album up with new photos of yourself, your friends, random things that you found pretty and worth remembering.
Your phone threw you out of the thinking, the loud noise of the ringtone filling up the room. Right, you were supposed to meet up with your friends in an hour and here you were, going through your old stuff and procrastinating the shower.
You put the album away and picked up your phone. A smile tugged at your lips hearing the overjoyed voice of your friend, telling you how excited they are to meet with you again (your last hangout was two weeks ago!) and that they already left.
You looked back at the album.
With today, you’d start filling it up with new memories of your happiness.
#astronetwrk#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#nereids' realm#⊹ ࣪ ˖ personal memoires ⟢#heia's writin'#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x you#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#scaramouche x you#wanderer x you#kunikuzushi x you#how about you stop having so many names#gender neutral reader
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
i... i feel weird about how this may come across, but i just wanted y'all to know that i won a big scholarship for the 2023-2024 academic year - and i will be able to quit my job and focus wholly on school
AND WRITE MORE FIC AND INTERACT MORE 💌
#alias's#self promotion#i feel very embarrassed to be sharing#because i don't want to make anyone feel bad by comparing themselves or anything#but after being so insanely busy for so long#not even having the time to update my queue#i am in tears at the idea of how much time i can spend in the fandom#but more importantly#with my friends on here#thank you for listening and all your patience#ilyall
106 notes
·
View notes
Note
i've been thinking a lot about having a real counterculture in the modern day too. idk how it would exist but i think it's fairly obvious that it wouldn't be able to come from social media at all, but beyond that it may involve an outright rejection of smartphones. back to flip phones and downloaded mp3s, or cassette players. this is just kinda my own fantasizing but also i basically live like that anyway so idk
Offline living absolutely crucial- my dream countercultural movement involves reinforcing physical community spaces as well as community action, incredibly regulated and minimal internet contact and no smart devices turned appendages, and more analogue ways of spending dead time. Games, arts, books, social interactions, hobbies, a return to previously established subcultures. Less a unified movement with a label and a specific set of interest but rather a push for a broader paradigm shift in our ways of thinking, doing, and living. My mom told me once about how when she was a kid in the 80s/90s the hot thing to do in town as a youth was drive up and down the main highway in town- if you saw anything going on anywhere you'd pull over and see whats up: cruising! Cruising sounds fun! Or regularly meeting with acquaintances in cafes or rec centers! Public spaces! Every day i wish i could go back in time to go to a real og arcade! Needed change goes beyond personal responsibility with this- there would have to be a concerted activist effort to sort of degrow and reform our cities and towns. But thats kind of end game. And absolutely under no circumstances can it have a name or a uniform. Hippie, beat, goth, punk, grunge, all names lost to commodification/being defanged. I dont know how else to articulate this it just absolutely must hinge on actions and not any generalizable term. Destroy aesthetics. Necessary (compassionate) gatekeeping also essential bc of this. Tldr shirk commodity embrace the humane. Not just alive but Living. I'd like to be living. I dont know how this could be organized without relying on the internet though honestly.... ppl are kind of helpless and well it would seriously be COUNTER culture.. i think id like to try though. I cant live if i dont have People who i can Live with im realizing
#siiiiiiiggghhh#first time i watched dazed and confused i was viscerally struck by what we've lost#obviously fictionalized take on the 70s but just....the mere idea of spending time with people in places as a rule#there was no other way to do it. no way around that. show up to the rec room and tear shit up#or skatepark scenes....godddddd#i think skating is one of the last true subcultures bc it requires physical proximity#you HAVE to go to parks you HAVE to connect with others it sucks and is hard otherwise#you need to learn and play w each other to get better....uve gotta have homies!!!#i just want people man#proper noun People. who are Living.#mmm....#hheheghe also this post is making me realize how much of an idiot i am when im usualy posting#i promise i can spell and crank out coherent thoughtful insights i promise#actions > appearances always#mmmmmmmmm....im romanticizing it feels good 💚#SNAIL MAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET TOGETHERS!!!!!!! ABOLISH THE STRANGER!!!!!!!!!!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
My random unsubstantiated hypothesis of the day: the popularity of "stim" videos, fidget toys, and other things like that is a warning sign that something's Deeply Wrong with our world.
Don't freak out. I am autistic. These things are not bad. However, can we just...take a second to notice how weird it is that there are entire social media accounts full of 10-second videos of things making crunching noises, people squishing slime in their hands, and objects clacking together, and that enjoying them is mainstream and normal?
It seems that nowadays, almost everyone exhibits sensory-seeking behavior, when just a decade ago, the idea of anyone having "sensory needs" was mostly obscure. It is a mainstream Thing to "crave" certain textures or repetitive sounds.
What's even weirder, is that it's not just that "stim" content is mainstream; the way everything on the internet is filmed seems to look more like "stim" content. TikToks frequently have a sensory-detail-oriented style that is highly unusual in older online content, honing in on the tactile, visual and auditory characteristics of whatever it's showing, whether that's an eye shadow palette or a cabin in a forest.
When an "influencer" markets their makeup brand, they film videos that almost...highlight that it's a physical substance that can be smudged and smeared around. Online models don't just wear clothes they're advertising, they run their hands over them and make the fabric swish and ripple.
I think this can be seen as a symptom of something wrong with the physical world we live in. I think that almost everyone is chronically understimulated.
Spending time alone in the forest has convinced me of this. The sensory world of a forest is not only much richer than any indoor environment, it is abundant with the sorts of sensations that people seem to "crave" chronically, and the more I've noticed and specifically focused on this, the more I've noticed that the "modern" human's surroundings are incredibly flat in what they offer to the senses.
First of all, forests are constantly permeated with a very soft wash of background noise that is now often absent in the indoor world. The sound of wind through trees has a physiological effect you can FEEL. It's always been a Thing that people are relaxed by white noise, which leads to us being put at ease by the ambient hum of air conditioning units, refrigerators and fans. But now, technology has become much more silent, and it's not at all out of place to hypothesize that environments without "ambient" white noise are detrimental to us.
Furthermore, a forest's ambience is full of rhythmic and melodic elements, whereas "indoor" sounds are often harsh, flat and irregular.
Secondly: the crunch. This is actually one of the most notably missing aspects of the indoor sensory world. Humans, when given access to crunchable things, will crunch them. And in a forest, crunchy things are everywhere. Bark, twigs and dry leaves have crisp and brittle qualities that only a few man-made objects have, and they are different with every type of plant and tree.
Most humans aren't in a lot of contact with things that are "destroyable" either, things you can toy with and tear to little bits in your hands. I think virtually everyone has restlessly torn up a scrap of paper or split a blade of grass with their thumbnail; it's a cliche. And since fidget toys in classrooms are becoming a subject of debate, I think it pays to remember that the vast majority of your ancestors learned everything they knew with a thousand "fidget toys" within arm's reach.
And there is of course mud, and clay, and dirt, and wet sand. I'm 100% serious, squishing mud and clay is vital to the human brain. Why do you think Play-Doh is such a staple elementary school toy. Why do you think mud is the universal cliche thing kids play in for fun. It's such a common "stim" category for a reason.
I could go on and on. It's insane how unstimulating most environments humans spend time in are. And this definitely contributes to ecological illiteracy, because people aren't prepared to comprehend how detailed the natural world is. There are dozens of species of fireflies in the United States, and thousands of species of moths. If you don't put herbicides on your lawn, there are likely at least 20 species of plant in a single square meter of it. I've counted at least 15 species of grass alone in my yard.
Would it be overreach to suggest that some vital perceptive abilities are just not fully developing in today's human? Like. I had to TEACH myself to be able, literally able, to perceive details of living things that were below a certain size, even though my eyes could detect those details, because I just wasn't accustomed to paying attention to things that small. I think something...happens when almost all the objects you interact with daily are human-made.
The people that think ADHD is caused by kids' brains being exposed to "too much stuff" by Electronic Devices...do not go outside, because spending a few minutes in a natural environment has more stimuli in it than a few hours of That Damn Phone.
A patch of tree bark the size of my phone's screen has more going on than my phone can display. When you start photographing lots of living organisms, you run into the strange and brain-shifting reality that your electronic device literally cannot create and store images big enough to show everything you, in real life, may notice about that organism.
38K notes
·
View notes
Text
tw - kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of physical abuse, and prolonged imprisonment.
You learn quickly that Nanami is significantly more bearable with he's playing house.
It should've been more obvious, in retrospect. If you hadn't been so terrified, so desperate not to fall into your captor's domestic delusions, you might've been more able to catch on more quickly, to realize how much softer he was when you treated him like a loving husband, rather than an obsessive stalker who had the nerve to roll his eyes when you asked if he had anything for you to wear that didn't involve bows and frills. You were slow on the uptake, but then again, he wasn't the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.
His reactions weren't exactly more pronounced when your aggression started to fade, when you realized that he could barely take care of himself, let alone another person. You were skittish, eager to get in and out of the kitchen before he came home, and he was stoic, offering little more than a nod of his head and a muttered 'thank you' when he came home to find a bare-bones meal on the table or his constantly neglected apartment just a little cleaner. It took weeks for him to come to you directly; his suit jacket in one hand and spare button in the other. It should've only taken a minute to mend, but your hands shook so badly that it'd ended up taking ten. He watched over your shoulder all the while - smiling so softly, you'd been able to convince yourself that it was just your imagination.
You pretended that you didn't mind being with him, that the idea of being his stay-at-home hostage didn't make your skin crawl, and in exchange, he let you watch an hour of T.V. once a week, told you how your family and friends were dealing with your sudden disappearance. It wasn't a fair trade, but it was a trade - his domestic bliss for a handful of basic privileges, his happiness for the illusion of your freedom. When you can build up the courage, when you've recovered (or, recovered as much as you can, anyway) from the last time he bent you over his knee, you press for more. And sometimes, it works.
"I missed you," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his posture hunched to accommodate the disparity between your heights, and you can feel warm breath on your skin, his deep voice reverberating against your throat.
"Welcome home," you say, because he doesn't like it when you lie and 'I missed you too' might've been the most dishonest thing you could've said. "You should sit down. I just started on dinner, and--"
You pause, cursing under your breath. Nanami is tired enough or kind enough to take the bait. "Make me a list." He pulls you that much closer before straightening his back and kissing your cheek. "I'll run to the store. It's the least I could do, for the only person who manages to keep my head on my shoulders."
You let a second of silence lapse between you, then another. "You know," you manage, eventually, just as Nanami starts to detangle himself from you. "Most couples spend as much time together as they can."
You can practically hear his smile. "You want to go shopping with me?"
"...am I allowed to?"
"Of course." He says it like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he hadn't kept you locked in his sterile apartment for the better part of a year. Like he hadn't taken you by the neck and promised he'd be the only man to ever touch you again every time you questioned his intentions.
There's another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, he adds, "As soon as hell freezes over and curses go extinct, I'll take you wherever you want."
You might've cried, if you didn't know how much he loved wiping away your tears.
Sometimes, it works.
Most of the time, though, he chooses to remind you whose game you're playing.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#yandere jjk#yandere nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#yandere nanami#yanderecore#yancore
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
converse high... bttm male reader
!!.. this has to be my worst work yet,, uhh rough sex, creampie, kinda vanilla ngl, not proofread idfk also bts ref borahae 💜
you jumped around in excitement to see one of your favorite group is finally going on tour! and they're coming to your city!
you immediately rushed to check the tickets, choosing the vip standing seat. " wait, how much money do I have left? " you stopped yourself before making a bad decision.
you looked at your bank account and almost passed out. you're broke as hell.
" why the hell am I so broke? " you questioned yourself, trying to find a genuine reason.
you scanned throughout your room till your eyes landed on your closet. " ah. that's why. "
multiple articles of clothing brimmed your closet causing it to overfill, making you slightly grimace at how your clothing rail was holding on for its dear life.
you recently went on another shopping haul after seeing your favorite idol adorning a new collection that was released by your favorite fashion brand.
you just had to get it.
yeah, maybe you had a bit of a spending problem..
your parents have spoiled you since birth because you're their one and only child. no, you weren't wealthy. you had to take on jobs multiple times, but hey hard work pays off!
you were currently on your break, and you intended to spend it going shopping till you went broke but unfortunately, due to you blowing your money to buy another vip standing ticket, that money mysteriously vanished.
" hmm.. is there any job I can do right now? " you rolled around in bed while scrolling through your phone, trying to find any quick gag you could do to earn some cash.
you ended up throwing your phone to the wall, groaning aloud when you could find none.
" i'm so lazy! not to mention my piles of assignments... " you sighed to yourself, opting to go downstairs instead to eat your sorrows away.
you were greeted by both of your parents downstairs, your mom already getting started on making lunch. " oh dear, what's wrong? you look stressed. "
you go to stand beside her, washing your hands in the process to help her cook. " I'm looking for a job to buy a ticket for a concert. my fav group is coming here you know! " you complained to your mom.
you grab the onion and began slicing it, shedding a few tears meanwhile. your mom thinks to herself, turning to you with an idea.
" you know our neighbor is actually looking for someone to babysit her kid. the pay is quite good since her kid is quite.. naughty. " you stared at the soup you were stirring and hummed.
" i can send you the details if you're interested, dear. " you nodded and decided to see how much would the pay be, who knows it might be enough.
a bonus is the kid has a total hottie as her brother!
you took one look at the pay and were sold immediately. you did the math and doing this for the amount of time needed will be more than enough.
i mean, babysitting can't be that hard, right?
⊹₊⋆
you sighed nervously as you finally approached the front door, your tote bag on your shoulder with everything you needed inside. you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for the mom to greet you.
instead, you were greeted by someone else. " you the new babysitter? "
you stuttered, brain short-circuiting. instead of answering, you stared at the man in front of you.
the red-haired cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer with a raised brow. " hello? you there? " he asked in an annoyed tone.
" oh, oh yeah sorry. y-yeah, i'm the new babysitter. " you gripped the strap of your tote bag, trying your best to maintain eye contact with the man in front of you.
he hummed and opened the door wider for you to come in. you excused yourself and stepped into the house.
you walked up to ms. moore to greet her but before you could say anything she rushed towards you, her bag already in her hand.
" oh yn dear! i was just about to leave! thank god you're here. so there's money on the counter in case maya wants anything to eat. you can ask my son for any help. i'll be back before one so i hope you can withstand.. "
before you could ask any questions, she already rushed her way out towards the door. " jason, you better help the babysitter this time! thank you again and i'll see you when i get back, dear! "
with a slam of the door, she was gone.
you stood there, trying to process the information she just dumped on you. in your shocked state, jason gave you a pat on the shoulder. " she always does that. good luck dealing with that devil. ", was all he said before leaving you alone.
" maya, go easy on him! " he shouted upstairs.
you turned to the kid staring at you from the couch, a little concerned about what he just said. you've dealt with kids before, this will be easy.
⊹₊⋆
god, you regretted even thinking that.
there was a reason why babysitters kept dropping out like flies. this kid might as well come straight from hell!
you let out a long sigh as you crashed onto the sofa. you finally managed to put maya to sleep. though you couldn't really relax, still scared she might pull something with you thinking she was asleep.
" don't worry she's asleep. " you looked to the side to see jason slipping next to you on the couch, remote in his hand as he scrolled through various movies.
you let out another sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes. you crossed your legs over one another, inspecting your slightly dirty converse high.
you peered over next to you, silently admiring jason.
you observed how his grown-out wolf cut, his red-haired that was now washed out is slightly messy, making it look like he just rolled out of bed.
your eyes were especially glued to his piercings. from his industrial to his snake bite, god he has so much.
you were more so drawn to his lips, that you could see his tongue-piercing. he purposely toyed with it, flicking his tongue out to tease you.
he licked his lips ever so slowly, his pink tongue grazing over his lower lip, not forgetting to graze over his snake bite. you gulped and looked away to try to get your mind on something else.
you didn't want to pop a boner in someone else's house!
" had enough already? " his sultry voice suddenly asked. you whipped your neck to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight, did he catch me staring..?
you cleared your throat and grabbed a nearby pillow to try to cover your growing hard-on.
" w-what're you talking about? " you glued your eyes towards the tv, trying to seem as unbothered as you can, thou the stuttering clearly gave it away..
jason rolled his eyes and discarded the pillow you were clinging onto, " oh come on, don't play dumb now. "
he pinned you down on the couch, caging you in leaving you no choice but to look at him.
" don't tell me you didn't notice at all.. "
you tried your best to look at him in the eyes, trying to figure out what he was talking about. well, he was really touchy.. his hands always found their way to touch you no matter.
he always knows just where and when to linger his touches to make you slightly flustered, the way he held your waist earlier still not leaving your eyes.
he also never took his eyes off of you ever since you stepped into his house. his eyes always trailing over to wherever you are, observing whatever the hell you are doing.
your cheeks got redder as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide from his gaze. " see i know you were a smart boy, now how far are you willing to go, bunny? "
you clasped your hand over your mouth, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. this is all too lewd!
you peeked down to look at him and the view below you was breathtaking.
jason's messy hair was now slicked back with his sweat, his big hands holding your legs open as his tongue worked its way on your dick. you could feel his tongue piercing along it, the added sensation making your thigh quiver.
you slowly released your hold on your own mouth, breath shaky. " jason, i-i'm close.. " your meal voice was shaky from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.
he hummed and just continued to suck you, his hand now fondling your balls, massaging them as if to coax you to release.
you gripped the bedsheet below you, the warmth of his mouth mixed with the occasional cold feeling of his piercing was driving you over the edge. with a loud moan, you finally released in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss.
jason swallowed it all, making sure not to leave any drop behind. you didn't know whether to feel grossed out by it or not.
" ready to move on now bunny? " jason asked you while grabbing a bottle of lube, squirting a glob of it on his fingers. you silently nodded and watched as he squirted another glob on your hole.
" cold.. " you whined at him, feeling the chilliness of the lube. " don't worry, i'll warm you right up bunny. " he smiled.
he first inserted one finger into you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. he began slowly moving it, occasionally grazing over that spot that made you see stars.
he then inserted another and another, steadily picking up his pace and getting more rougher as time went on. your eyes shoot back open as you kept your lips as tight as you could.
you were close and jason seemed to know this too.
before you could reach your climax, he swiftly pulled his fingers out. you looked up at him in confusion, dumbfounded as to why he stopped. " w-why'd you stopped? "
he took off his boxer, tossing it somewhere else. " don't tell me you were gonna cum just from that. the real fun begins now, bunny "
you watched as jason stroked his own dick, pouring lube on it. he was big. maybe too big for you. " are you sure it'll fit.. " you asked him while your eyes still trained on it.
" don't worry.. " he aligned himself with your hole, " i'll make it fit. "
with that, he shoved himself into you, the student action made you let out a loud moan. your eyes instantly teared up from the sudden stretch. you bit your lips to make sure no other noise escaped from you.
he was so big and you felt so.. full. his tip perfectly kissed your prostate, almost as if you were molded just for him.
" look at you taking it so well.. i knew i should've stuffed you full the moment i saw you. "
you stifled another incoming moan. your hands both covered your face, trying to hide your flushed face. two hands suddenly held onto your wrist, effectively prying your hands off of your face.
" don't hide this gorgeous face from me now. "
his own fingers intertwined with your own as he pounded into you roughly, going fast and aggressive from the start. a string of moans left your lips, your voice shaky due to how fast he was.
soon, one of his hands sneaked its way onto your thigh, hoisting it up. you almost screamed from how much deeper he was inside you. you didn't think it was even possible.
" jasonn, i'm near.. " you whined. your own dick bounced and twitched begging for release. " i'm close too, bunny.. cum with me, yeah? "
you nodded while jason held onto your ankles, his fingers digging into the fabric of your converse high. he somehow began speeding up, chasing his own climax.
you closed your mouth with your own hand, knowing damn well your moans were echoing throughout the house already.
with no warning whatsoever, you felt the warm liquid soon filling your inside, dropplings of it escaping from your hole. the feeling of being filled with jason's thick cock mixed with his own cum running down your ass caused you to also release.
you shut your eyes as your release painted your stomach white, some of it landing on jason's.
after a few moments of silence, he then let go of your ankles, slowly pulling out. you winced at the feeling of emptiness. you rolled to the side, jason also crawling next to you.
you soon almost lull yourself to sleep before remembering that tomorrow you have to babysit maya. oh god maya. you prayed she was sleeping like a baby and didn't hear anything.
" shit.. i honestly can't feel my legs and i still have to babysit maya tomorrow... " you groaned out loud next to him, trying to brainstorm an idea on how to babysit that devil in your current state.
jason only laughed next to you. talking about how he'll figure out a way to deal with her tomorrow. you hope he will since you can't miss the pay...
#tyunniez 🕷#tyunniez asks 💌#x male reader#bottom male reader#bttm male reader#male reader#uke male reader#amab reader#male x male smut#oc x male reader#i rlly dont like this one yall LMAO
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Woof woof… whimper
(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)
Content:
Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting
It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.
“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.
But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.
“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.
“G-get off of me, get out, get—”
His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.
“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”
You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….
How did he know where you live?
How did he know where the spare key was?
How did he know where your bedroom was?
How did he find you at the bar?
Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.
Then where’s your dog?
“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”
He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.
“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”
You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.
All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.
“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”
You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.
“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.
“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”
Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…
“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”
Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.
He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.
And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.
Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.
“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.
Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.
“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”
Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.
It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.
You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.
You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.
“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.
“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”
You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.
“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”
“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”
You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.
“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”
Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.
“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”
“Alright, hen. C’mere.”
He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.
“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.
He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”
And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.
How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.
“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”
How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.
“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”
That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.
You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…
And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.
Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).
He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.
“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.
“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”
It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.
“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”
#sorry this is a little shorter but uhhhhh i never know where to go after smut#anyway hope yall like it#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#thoughts™️#dark fic#woof woof johnny#woof woof au#wolf john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning
SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?
WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!
COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!
Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.
You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.
You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.
You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. Te can’t relate.
Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.
Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.
Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.
Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable.
He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim?
(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)
You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!
He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look.
His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.
You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.
He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!
Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.
Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it.
♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
#Rhea's TWST Fics~!#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twst fanfic#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#Leona Kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#Azul Ashengrotto#Azul Ashengrotto x reader#Jamil Viper#Jamil Viper x reader#Vil Schoenheit#Vil Schoenheit x reader#Idia Shroud#Idia Shroud x reader#Malleus Draconia#Malleus Draconia x reader
798 notes
·
View notes
Text
1940’s hubby miguel who decides to make dinner that night. he tells you to go have a bath, pour in those bath salts he’s spent so much money on, and relax. he’s got this sorted.
he makes your favourite and even decorates the table all nice and pretty for you. there’s a candle in the middle with the fancy white doilies you got as a wedding gift from some cousin however many times removed on his side. he even uses the china that is specially reserved for when either of your parents come over.
1940’s hubby miguel who plants a soft kiss to your neck as he pulls the chair out for you. “can’t let you get your freshly manicured hands dirty now, can we, doll?” he teases playfully.
you push him off, grinning, because you know full well he cleaned the house before you got home.
1940’s hubby miguel who spends the whole of dinner showering you with compliments and praise. at first you’re suspicious but his soft, dimpled smile calms your nerves.
you’re having an amazing time, just him and you with no negative emotions to get in the way of what will surely be be a great evening.
1940’s hubby miguel who eventually realises tonight can’t be all flirting and smiles because he has to be honest with you.
miguel clears his throat, drawing your attention away from your food and back up to him with your wide, admiring eyes. “we need to talk, doll.”
bile rises in your throat and your head feels heavy. he sounds so serious, anxious even, you’ve never seen him this way before. what is it he has to tell you? is he, fuck, is he cheating? is that why he’s been so nice, to let you down slowly?
“it sounds ridiculous, unbelievable, and i won’t be surprised if you slap me and tell me to grow up,” he starts, a slight edge to his voice, “but i’m spiderman.”
1940’s hubby miguel who can’t hide the hurt in his eyes when you burst out laughing. it’s nice, to see you smiling and giggling right after staring at him with such wide, intense eyes. but it still stings that you find this funny.
“dios mio, what’s so funny, amor?” he questions, trying to soften his tone.
it takes you a moment to catch your breath, tears threatening to spill as you clutch your chest. “what am i meant to say to that?” you just about manage, “is this some new roleplay you want to try out?”
he hadn’t thought of that, actually.
“no, no, doll, i’m being deadly serious right now,” he allows an air of urgency to enter his voice, hoping it conveys the amount of vulnerability he’s showing.
“no way,” you declare, arms folded across your chest, “i’ve met him and he’s a slimy pompous ass, who thinks just because he’s saved a few thousand lives he can just pick up some random married woman.”
he smiles sheepishly at you, pearly whites and ever sharp canines poking over his lips. “ouch.”
you shake your head, still refusing to believe him. “if this is true, how haven’t i figured it out yet?”
“i’m a little hurt that you haven’t. you spent so long oggling over him on the news that i was sure you already knew.”
1940’s hubby who, after much back and forth, slowly convinces you.
“show me your webs.”
“muñeca, i can’t.”
“i know you can, migs.”
he pauses for a moment, glaring down at you with your determined frown, his expression mirroring yours. “how?” he finally sighs, a smile creeping up on him.
“i have a few ideas…”
since u asked for a tag
@laysmt
prev < > next
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#miguel x reader#miguel x you#fluff#miguel fluff#miguel x fem!reader#miguel x y/n#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara x reader#domestic miguel
896 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quite a long night
Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo
Enzo and Mattheo x reader
You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.
Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+
Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.
A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.
Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!
Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.
It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.
When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.
***
Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.
***
You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.
You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.
You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.
You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.
He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.
As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”
Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.
“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.
Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you��ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.
“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.
Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.
Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.
Bonus?
Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”
Word count: 3414
Picture source Mattheo
Picture source Enzo
#slytherin#slytherin boys#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire imagine#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#papercorgiworldwritings
395 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
(Winter Soldier x Reader)
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･
Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*
Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*
He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there.
She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat
Words - 2000
Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her.
Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul.
Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past.
Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes.
The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.
"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again.
„Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life.
"Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still.
„I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies.
“You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment
“Who was it?“
"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve.
"You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms.
Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it"
„I don’t know how I got them…“
Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something.
"So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks.
The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes.
“Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“
„Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“
He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar.
“Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears.
The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words.
"Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“
"Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry.
"We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body.
"You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think."
„I am not…“
He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning.
He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination.
He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief.
"So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it.
„I don’t want to leave, Bucky“
"And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will.
„I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding.
"Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.
Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world.
Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself.
Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain.
The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks.
„What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.
- Two days before she left -
„Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“
he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know.
He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence.
„No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state.
„Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.
He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening?
The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach
„Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes)
She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real.
He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum.
Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.
#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier x y/n#winter solider imagine#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier imagine#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x f#bucky barnes x female reader#dark fanfiction#angst
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Friends
Word count: 13.7k
Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader
A/N: Wowee, I am pretty proud of this one ngl! I hope you all enjoy it!!! This idea has been rotating in my brain for a couple weeks now, so I’m pretty stoked to have finished it <33
Summary: When your one-year anniversary raises red flags about your boyfriend you missed, Johnny helps you deal with the fall out in a delicious way, and then he ghosts you. When you find out why, you think his reason sucks but he makes it up to you… kind of.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), virgin!Reader, age gap, reader is in her 20s, fingering, grinding, cum eating, spit swallowing (once), stalking (not by Johnny or reader), minor violence, name calling (not by Johnny or reader), no use of y/n
This isn’t where you would ideally be spending your time, in general you don’t club often but especially not for special occasions, which you classify this as one. You’re meant to be celebrating your one-year anniversary with your boyfriend, he had promised you a romantic evening but instead he surprised you with clubbing. Which, naturally you had no idea was happening, so not only are you not dressed for clubbing but you also are not in the mood to be here.
He's gone off to the dance floor and you’re just sat here by the bar watching him dance and get drunk. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re dressed up in a nicer dress than what this place warrants and it’s getting the attention of the men around you, attention you really don’t want.
Unfortunately, it looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the attention of the other girls around him, he’s just now engaged in a bump and grind with a girl you both don’t know. This is ridiculous, he knows you can see him right? You’re getting huffy, but when he leans down and whispers in her ear is when you get pissed.
Getting up, you stomp over to him and grab him to get his attention, when he looks at you, he’s none too pleased. Like you weren’t the one watching him flirt with another girl on your one-year anniversary. A whole year with this man and he can’t give you the courtesy of paying you attention and not flirting with other girls. Ridiculous.
Your expression is twisted in anger, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What’s your problem?” He asks, his own expression irritated.
Your eyes become large, shaking your head at him, “My problem is you; you’re flirting with other girls right in front of me! On our anniversary!”
He blows you off and deflects the blame back on you, “Like you care, you have that weird relationship with that old actor dude!”
Of course, he brings up Johnny right now, you roll your eyes at him, “Johnny is just a friend! You know that.”
And he does, you’ve known Johnny for years, or at least your family has, you got closer to him a few years ago when you moved to California. He’s been really kind to you and was the only friend you had here for a while, even though he’s all famous and busy.
He gets in your face and yells at you, “Yeah right, you’re probably fucking him! You won’t fuck me but you’ll fuck him! Is that it?! GOD you are such a whore!” You can smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he is.
This is the first time he’s explicitly said what he’s been implying for months, he’s been so weird about this for a long time, you haven’t had sex with him, or anyone for that matter. And it upsets you when he implies otherwise. His blunt accusation has your eyes welling up with tears.
His shoulders drop and his eyes roll, groaning as he says, “Oh, don’t start that! You are such a gaslighter!”
“We are over, don’t call me, don’t come to my apartment, we are broken up,” you spit it out with as much venom as you can muster.
Turning from him, you get out of there as quickly as possible, hearing him continue to berate you faintly as you leave. The tears from earlier start to fall down your cheeks as you hail a cab, tonight is not what you wanted it to be at all.
This has been an awful experience, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d recognise your relationship had red flags the whole time. You had mostly overlooked it because you wanted it to work so badly but he was mean, pushy, didn’t respect you or your boundaries, he was even prone to violent outbursts, he never hit you but you have a sizable hole in your bedroom wall from the one time he got especially annoyed at you.
These are all things you had kept from Johnny and even then, Johnny had expressed concerns about your now ex-boyfriend, he never overstepped but he very gently told you that he thought he was a freak.
You won’t deny that you like Johnny, you’re attracted to him but it’s not like it’s something you could actively pursue or have even thought about pursuing. He’s older than you and probably wouldn’t look at you the same way you look at him. And even if he did, you can’t think of anything worse than a cheater, you would never want to be cheated on, so you would never cheat on someone. Even if they suck.
Sitting in the cab, you’re forced to reflect on all of this. You wish you’d had a few drinks; a buzz would probably make it easier to sleep tonight. The shock of it all has you most upset because when you search deep down you aren’t even sad about losing him, you’re sad about all the time you wasted on him. All the time you spent trying to make it work with a man who, frankly, didn’t and doesn’t deserve you.
When you get back home, you’re immediately showering the club off of your skin and crawling into bed. What you want most right now is for this awful night to be over, so you curl up in a little ball and hug your pillow to your chest for comfort.
✰ ✰ ✰
A heavy-handed banging at your door frightens you awake; you shoot up in your spot. It’s your ex banging on your door and yelling at you, grabbing your phone you quickly look at the time. It’s currently nine in the morning, he cannot be sober yet.
You walk through your apartment and drop your phone on your kitchen counter before tentatively walking towards the door. His loud banging stops and he knocks again gently, calling your name softly. You don’t want to open the door but you’re worried about your neighbours, one thing about him is that he is as stubborn as a mule.
Opening the door only a bit, you ask him, “What do you want?”
“Fucking finally, let me in,” his voice is angry and he’s pushing the door open more.
You try to keep him back, “You can’t come in.”
He keeps pushing at the door, eventually swinging it open the whole way, “I can do what I want,” his voice raises.
He goes to move inside your apartment and you push him back, his eyes glower at you, he’s scaring you.
“We are broken up, and I don’t want you in my house,” you say, standing your ground.
“We are not broken up; I didn’t agree to that!” he argues, voice getting louder in his anger.
His demeanour is scaring you, the last time he looked like this was when he punched that hole in your wall.
But you are not caving on this, “That isn’t how it works, we are over!”
He puts his hands on you and his grip digs into your skin, hurting you, but you move automatically and punch him square in the nose. His head flies back, he’s groaning out in pain and grabbing his nose. You take advantage of his balance being thrown off and push him out of the threshold of your apartment, he stumbles back and you’re slamming the door shut, locking it again.
“What the fuck! You stupid bitch! Let ME IN!!” His banging gets more forceful, it sounds like he might be kicking the door too.
You’re shaking at what just happened, you’ve never had to punch someone before. Sadly, it didn’t do enough damage to have him leaving, he’s still there and you have a feeling he isn’t going away.
There’s a sudden ringing from behind you, it makes you jump on the spot. Your heart racing as you realise it’s just your phone from the kitchen, you walk over to it, behind you the banging has slowed a bit but you can tell he’s still out there.
Checking your phone screen, you see it’s Johnny is calling, just your luck. If you don’t pick up now, he’ll just keep calling you. He knows you were meant to go on your date last night and you didn’t message him when you got home. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re safe but you don’t really want him hearing what’s happening, so you walk into the hallway and answer. Thankful for the moment of quiet outside your door.
“Hello?” You ask.
“Good morning, doll,” he sounds chipper.
“…Good morning,” your voice is wavering despite your efforts to sound normal.
You can practically feel his frown through the phone, “Are you okay?”
“Yup,” you’re trying to keep your answers short.
The banging on your door picks up again, he’s getting louder and yelling, because of course he is.
“What is that?” Johnny questions.
“…Nothing?”
He pauses, you imagine listening to the background noises, “It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.”
“No, it doesn’t,” you deny.
The banging continues at your door, your exes voice yelling, “Let me the fuck in!! God you’re such a fucking bit–”
“–I’m coming over.” He states, hanging up hastily, leaving no room for arguments.
Great, now you have to face the embarrassment of telling Johnny how awful your ex is and is apparently unwilling to let go of you even though he was flirting with and grinding into another girl right in front of you. You’d rather deal with the cops. Sighing, you grab your bat by the front door and crouch next to it, waiting for Johnny to get here. At least your ex will go away when he gets here.
It doesn’t take Johnny long to arrive at all, which is suspicious, he probably sped. You only know he’s here because you can hear the way your ex gets angry at him.
“Cage, Of course she called you,” he says to Johnny, disdain clear in his voice.
It’s the last thing you hear clearly, whatever Johnny says to him is low but apparently threatening enough to have your ex leaving, not before he yells at you one last time though.
“THIS ISNT OVER!” He yells out for you to hear.
“Yes it is, get the fuck outta here,” you hear Johnny clearer this time, he’d raised his voice at him slightly.
Johnny doesn’t knock, instead using the key you gave him to unlock your door. When he walks inside, he looks around quickly for you, not seeing you until he turns around to lock the door. His eyes widen at your small, crouched form in the corner by the front door, holding a bat with a sock on it.
“Jesus, sugar, what are you doing there?” His hand lands on his chest in mild shock.
“In case he got the door down,” you murmur at him.
He locks the door properly before giving you his hand, helping you up.
His brow raises, “What’s the sock for?”
“In case he tried grabbing it, he’d pull the sock off and I’d still have a bat,” you move the sock up and down the bat, demonstrating the slide.
He reaches out and you hand the bat to him, “Sit over there.” He points at your breakfast barstools.
You do as he says and shuffle over to the stool, sitting down on it. He puts the bat in your umbrella stand by the front door. Walking back over to you, he stands between your legs and holds either side of your face, checking you over.
“You okay?” He asks very softly; concern clear on his face.
You nod at him, “Yeah, Mm okay.”
His eyes are still looking you over, “I saw his nose was bleeding, you hit him?”
You nod again and he smiles at you, “Nice, you square your shoulders?”
“I think so,” you’re not sure, it happened pretty quick, the reaction more of a survival thing than a planned attack.
He hums and looks to your upper arms, “He grabbed you?” His hands gently run down your arms.
“Yeah, then I hit him,” you tell him, looking at your arms where he was looking. The skin where your ex had grabbed is irritated, it might bruise.
Johnny’s face is pulled into a scowl, “I should’ve hit him too, fucken dick.”
You shake your head at him, “I just wanted him gone.”
“I never liked him,” he continues.
“I know.”
“If he shows up again, I am hitting him,” his face still scowling.
You shake your head at him again, “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He looks into your eyes again; his hands leave you.
“Johnny, you’re not just some guy, you’re famous, if it got out that you hit someone it’d be a whole thing. It could ruin your reputation.”
He rolls his eyes at your concern, “Don’t really care about all that, doll.”
Your expression is doubtful, “Yes you do.”
“It’d be worth it, that guy sucks,” he maintains.
“Johnny?”
He hums at you in response.
“Can you… stay for a bit?” You ask softly, cringing at how pathetic you sound.
“Of course, you aren’t getting rid of me that quickly,” his smile is soft and you give him your own in return.
Getting up off the stool, you walk around into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs out for some coffee.
“You can go sit on the couch while I make some coffee,” you tell him with your back facing him.
He hums a little mindlessly before wandering over to your living room and getting comfortable.
After the coffee is made, you carefully walk to him, you’re watching the mugs and your feet as you walk. Carrying full cups has always stressed you out, you always manage to spill and you’d really rather not have to clean up a mess right now.
Thankfully, you successfully make it to Johnny without spilling anything, “Here you go,” you smile and hand him his mug.
“Thanks, sugar,” he takes it from you, sips at it and places it on the coffee table in front of him.
You sit beside him and silently sip at your coffee, enjoying the warmth of it, the flavour. You think a good cup of coffee could fix just about anything for you.
Johnny watches you sip at your mug, “What exactly happened, doll and why didn’t you call me?”
Yeah, you were expecting him to ask sooner or later, you were just hoping it’d be later.
Sighing, you place your mug next to his, “I didn’t call you because it’s embarrassing, you were right about him and I wanted to handle it on my own, I don’t need everything fixed for me.” You don’t look at him as you speak.
“I know that, you’re an adult but this was an angry, grown man, trying to beat down your door. And sometimes you might not need my help but you can always have me next to you, if it makes it easier.” His words are spoken soothingly, he’s always so gentle with you.
You can’t lie, you did have a crush on him for a long time, but then you met your ex and you didn’t let those feelings cloud your mind, you pushed them away. But just like how you push them away, Johnny’s actions and words push them back. He’s a difficult man to dislike.
“Thank you,” you mumble.
He asks again, “What exactly happened, it was supposed to be your anniversary wasn’t it?”
“He ‘surprised’ me by taking me out clubbing, which was already bad but I was uncomfortable and left at the bar alone while he danced and flirted with other girls.” You recount.
“What the fuck?” His voice is filled with displeasure.
“Mhm and then he was whispering to this one girl and I got annoyed, so I went over to confront him but he brought up y– … he said some mean things to me and about me… he – he made me cry and I broke up with him on the spot.” You leave out what he brought up about Johnny, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“How’d you get home?” He asks.
“Took a cab.” You state simply.
“And he just let you? Let you leave and get in a cab, crying, by yourself, in the middle of the night?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him.
Groaning as he says, “I really should’ve hit him.” He pauses, “Why didn’t you call me?”
You look back to him again, “It was late and I didn’t want to bother you, or explain what happened, I just wanted to get home and get into bed.”
“You never bother me, sugar,” his eyes are compassionate as he looks at you.
Looking at him is intense for you, like if you look at him for too long, you’ll get hypnotised by him. So, you look away, back to your mug on the table.
He moves closer to you and puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “If anything happens to upset you, and I mean anything, call me, okay?” He stresses on the anything, making sure you understand.
You avert his gaze, “I will call you, if something bad happens.”
He moves his face so he can catch your eyes with his, making you look at him again, “Say again.”
“I will call you, next time.” You reconfirm.
“Very good,” his praise does things to you that you wish it didn’t.
He still holds your face, looking at you, his thumb strokes your cheekbone softly. As his hand slips away from your face, his thumb pulls your lip down with it, before he pulls his hand away completely. His eyes locked onto your lips, gaze seemingly far away.
“Johnny?”
He hums, coming back to himself and looking you in the eyes, “Your pjs are very cute.” He changes the topic.
You grow bashful, you’re wearing a matching set, they’re frilly and have bows, and you like them because not only are they really cute, they’re also comfy. Johnny mentioning them throws you off, you completely forgot you were wearing pyjamas.
His smile is cheeky as he watches you grow shy, “What’s wrong?” He asks, taunting.
“You know what you did,” you pout.
He enjoys flirting with you because of how nervous it makes you. He finds it endearing but you find it annoying, which is another reason as to why he keeps doing it.
He hums happily, pleased with himself, “Cute.” It’s all he says in response.
You scowl at him.
He pinches your cheek, pulling at it.
You slap his hand away, “Stop it, that hurts.”
He smiles innocently at you; he goes to say something but his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at it, and then he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t pick it up though.
“Aren’t you gonna answer?” You ask.
“Nah, gonna let it ring out, I do have to go though, I’m late,” his reply nonchalant.
Expression concerned you say, “Johnny! Leave if you’re late, you didn’t need to be wasting time here.”
“I didn’t waste my time, you’re important.” His face firm as he speaks.
You huff at him, “Get out, right now.” Your tone is urgent.
“You’re pretty when you’re bossy,” he teases.
Eyes widening at him, “Johnny!” You exasperate.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he placates.
You walk him over to the door. Both of you standing there, you’re waiting for him to open it and leave but he turns around to look at you and pulls you in for a hug. You return it, appreciating the familiarity of him, you nuzzle your face into the fabric of his shirt and he holds you firmly.
His mouth rests against the crown of your head and speaks into your hair, “If he comes back, call me, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble into his chest.
He pulls you away by your shoulders and then he leans down to kiss your cheek affectionately. The action makes your skin warm; he doesn’t pull away though, lips skating across your face and ghosting your lips, the minimal contact makes you gasp and your heart skip a beat.
He pulls away suddenly, “I’ll talk to you later.” He says hurriedly, opening your door.
“Have a good day,” you manage to say, almost normally.
He hums a noise of agreeance and then he’s gone.
After he leaves, you lock the door, and then your fingers skate over your lips, thinking about how he almost kissed you. The thought makes your heartbeat faster, he’s never showed interest in you before, at least, you don’t think he has.
Why did he do that? Did it mean anything? Was it an accident? You have so many questions that will undoubtably linger in the back of your head for the whole day, if not life.
✰ ✰ ✰
The rest of your day is spent cleaning up your messes made during the week, tomorrow you have a shift at work so today is really the only day you have to be able to pick up after yourself properly. It feels so incredibly mundane compared to what you went through last night and this morning. The fear of you ex coming back loiters in the back of your head the whole time you’re shuffling around your apartment.
It's earlier in the evening when you finally get to sit down, having completed your list of chores, along with showering and eating dinner. You feel quite proud of yourself for doing so much, you didn’t go grocery shopping like you had planned but you think for now, what you have done is more than enough. Leaving your apartment right now is a scary thought, he could be waiting for you outside the building, or around the street corner. You’re overthinking it but it is also very possible, he was terrifying this morning. It shocks you thinking about how he was in your life for so long and you hadn’t noticed anything bad enough to break up with him sooner.
A knock on your door brings you back from your thoughts, you’re apprehensive about answering the door, you aren’t expecting anyone. The person knocks again and your stomach drops, it’s him.
“Go away,” you call out.
“Just let me in, Jesus – talk to me,” your ex is irritable.
You get up and move closer to the door before saying, “You lost your right to talk to me last night.”
“You’re being such a bitch,” he says.
“I’ll call Johnny,” you try threatening.
“Oooo, I’m so scared of some old guy,” he feigns fear, but you know better, he is scared of Johnny.
You walk into the lounge room and pick up your phone, calling him.
His phone only rings a couple times before he picks up, “Hey, doll. You okay?”
From the door you can hear your ex call out to you, “Are you actually calling him?”
Johnny hears him too, “Is he back already?”
“Yeah… Sorry,” you feel bad calling him again so soon.
“Don’t apologise, I told you to call if he came back, you did good by calling me,” he says, his praise making you feel some type of way.
“I’ll be there soon, don’t talk to him,” he directs.
“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before hanging up.
You grab your bat and hang out in the kitchen, hiding below the counters and watching the front door. Your ex doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t even knock and you briefly wonder if he left.
The wait doesn’t take long, and you know it’s Johnny when you hear the key turn in the lock. He enters the apartment and you pop up from behind the kitchen counters, still holding your bat. He shakes his head at you, amused at the sight of you appearing from nowhere.
Turning around he makes sure to lock the door and walks to you in the kitchen, “You okay, sugar?”
“You’re always asking me that,” you comment.
“I always want you to be okay,” he retorts.
You smile at him, “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he nods his head to the door, “He wasn’t out there.”
“I thought so, I think he heard me on the phone to you.” Your ex must’ve been too scared to face Johnny again, whatever threat he gave working, for now.
“Pussy,” Johnny insults him, it has you laughing lightly. “He really doesn’t like me, do you know why, doll? He ever tell you?” He’s curious.
You hum and look away from him, “No idea.”
“You’re lying.”
“How insulting, I have never lied to you,” you’re looking back at him, trying your best to look innocent.
Both his brows raise at you, “Not from lack of trying.”
You squint your eyes at him, “I am a good girl, I don’t lie, smoke, drink, party… so on and so forth,” you’re being facetious.
“Yes, you are a very good girl, so tell me the truth, mmm?” He practically purrs at you, with the way he spoke to you and how he’s looking at you right now, you’d tell him anything he wanted to know.
“Okay, so maybe I do know why he dislikes you,” you cave but can you be blamed?
He raises a single brow at you, encouraging you to continue.
Fiddling with your hands, you’re hesitant to tell him, “Mmm, so maybe he thinks that we’ve been… hooking up.”
“What?” His eyes are wide.
“He accused me of sleeping with you… which I assured him was not the case and that we’re just friends… but he didn’t believe me, and maybe he called me a whore for sleeping with you and not him…” you can’t look him in the eyes right now.
“I don’t even know where to start,” his expression is confused. “I want to injure him… badly, for calling you a whore,” he starts, his eyes burning.
“I just want him to leave me alone,” you murmur.
“If I break his legs he’ll have to leave you alone for three… to six months, depending on where I break him,” he remarks.
You shake your head at him, sighing.
He continues, “He’s a dumbass for accusing you of sleeping with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Are you done?” You ask.
“I have one more question, and since you’re such a good girl, you’re going to answer it without tip toeing around it,” his tone only a little bit teasing.
You look sceptical, trying to save face you say, “Maybe.”
“Why would he think you’re sleeping with me and not him,” he asks.
You avert his gaze quickly, “Well… you see, that’s a bit more complicated.”
“How?” He’s direct.
“So…” You trail off.
“No, don’t do that, don’t skirt around your answer… and look at me,” his tone absolute.
You look back to him, your eyes worried, “I’ve not slept with him… or anyone for that matter… as for why he thinks I’m sleeping with you, probably insecurity,” you shrug your shoulders at him.
Johnny looks surprised by your confession, whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that.
“You’re a virgin?” He clarifies.
You nod your head at him, “Yes…”
“Well shit, sugar, I didn’t mean to make you tell me something that private.” He feels bad.
“It’s not private, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just haven’t wanted to sleep with the men I’ve dated.” Which is true, you’ve been attracted to them, you just haven’t desired them enough to let them have you completely.
“I just feel like whoever I do sleep with, I should crave their touch, and I haven’t… felt that way about the men I’ve dated,” you’ve only wanted one person that way and he’s standing in front of you. Much to your dismay.
“So, your idiot little ex, has somehow got it in his head that you want me?” He asks, big smile on his face.
Frowning, you say, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”
“Sorry doll, trying not to be but it’s a bit of an ego boost,” he chuckles.
“Like you need one,” you quip. Undeniably though, his confidence is something that makes you feel hot and bothered.
He smiles at you devilishly, going to say something before there’s a knock on your door.
Johnny groans, “Does he not give up or what?”
Another, harsher knock.
“That’s it, I’m kicking his ass,” he starts walking to the front door.
You jog to get in front of him, “No, Johnny, you can’t.”
“I’m fairly certain I can,” he huffs but he stops walking.
You give him a pointed look, “your career?”
“Didn’t I tell you earlier today that I don’t care?”
“I care,” you give him your softest eyes, begging with him not to resort to violence.
He groans in annoyance at how well it works on him, “Arghh, fine.”
“Thank–”
“–But, you should moan so he thinks we’re fucking,” he says, smiling like he’s come up with some master plan.
It’s embarrassing to admit to him but, “I don’t… know what I’d sound like.”
“Never even touched yourself, doll?” His question makes your face feel hot. His bluntness a lot for you, it makes you feel fuzzy.
“I have… I just never really made any noises,” you answer him hesitantly.
Looking at Johnny, he has a very serious look on his face, eyes dark. You only see it for a second before he’s smiling sweetly at you, “Bet you make the cutest sounds,” he teases.
He stalks towards you and you walk backwards, you end up with your back against the wall by the door. Johnny has caged you in against it, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your head.
His voice is low, “Wanna find out?”
You look up at him, “Find out what?”
More loud knocking comes out from beside you, your ex still there, still refusing to leave, “I am not going anywhere!” He calls out.
You turn your head to look at the door, but Johnny’s hand pulls your face back to his, “Keep your eyes on me and answer my question, sugar.”
“What was your question?” You don’t remember.
His fingers play with the strap of your pyjama shirt, “Wanna find out how you sound?”
“What?”
He tuts, “Simple yes or no, sweetness.”
The skin of his fingers brushing against your shoulder has a shudder threatening to run down your spine, he’s arousing you and you don’t feel sure in a lot of things but you feel pretty damn sure in yourself as you say.
“Yes.”
He grins, pleased with your answer, “Can’t hold back, gotta let yourself make noise, okay?”
Nodding your head, you agree.
“Perfect.”
His hand that was playing with your shirt slips down to your hip, holding you there before asking, “Are you wet?”
Your thighs involuntarily clench at his question, “Yeah.”
“What from,” he presses you for more answers.
His hand slips under your sleep shorts but not into your panties, his two middle fingers massage your pussy over your underwear, he can feel the wet patch on the front of them that had formed. Your mind drifts, losing yourself in his light touch.
“Gotta answer, sugar.” He reminds you.
You bring your focus back to his words, “From you…”
“What about me?” His pointer and ring fingers spread your folds through your panties, wet noises resulting from the action, “Fffuck, listen to how wet you are.”
You want to shrink in on yourself, his brazen words embarrassingly hot. His middle finger pets at your clit gently, the stimulation makes you gasp and one of your hands grabs at the wrist of the hand he has on the wall beside your head, the other resting flat against the wall.
“C’mon doll, pay attention,” he chastises.
“The way you – ngh – talk to me,” you confess maybe a little too easily.
“What specifically?” He’s too curious for someone touching you in a way that makes it difficult for coherent thought.
His middle finger is still gently grazing your clit, never straying, the stimulation making you so wet. Your panties no doubt ruined under his ministrations.
“Your voice, your praise, nicknames – hah, jus like the way you talk to me,” you feel breathless.
“Mmm, like being praised? Told what to do?” He asks in a mocking manner.
You’re lacking any critical thinking skills right now though, because you normally wouldn’t feed his ego so much, “By you, yes.”
“Fuck sugar,” he curses, your honesty getting to him.
His finger still stroking you over your underwear, your hips twitching in response to it. He hums at you, enjoying how much you’re squirming below him.
“Johnny,” you call to him, his name coming out whiny.
His response is far away, “Mmm?” he doesn’t look up to you, instead he pulls your shorts all the way down, wanting to watch the way he plays with your clit over your panties.
He adds more pressure to the finger stroking you, the feeling making you gasp, an almost moan slipping from you. Without realising, you hold it back and it comes out strangled.
“Not supposed to hold back, doll.” He reminds you quickly.
But you’re still conscious of your ex lingering in your hallway, something that Johnny is also aware of, which is why he wants you to be louder. He decides to pulls your panties down, removing his fingers from your pussy to do so.
The loss of contact has a whimper exiting you and Johnny chuckles at the sound.
“Needy aren’t ya?” He hums at you, amused.
You huff at him, not really appreciating the teasing.
His fingers move back to your pussy, sliding through your very wet cunt, spreading your slick around, his chest rumbling with a growl at how wet you are. Your thighs are wet and your whole lower half is slippery. The teasing he’s put you through too much, you’re beyond horny and you really just need him to touch you.
You look up at him, eyes big and wet, pleading with him to touch you properly without asking aloud.
The hand by your head moves to cup the side of your face, his smile is large as he looks at you. Enjoying the way you’re falling apart in the palm of his hand. He shows you pity though, and his finger slips to your pussy hole, gently pushing into you. Your cunt spasms lightly around it and he sighs a groan at the feeling.
“Damn sugar, you’re… fucken soaked,” he comments.
You don’t reply to him, you can’t, too lost in the feeling of his large finger carefully pushing into you. The hand he has on your face still holding you, making you look at him. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, his eyes mesmerised by your expression. You have a soft and needy look on your face, eyelids low, your breaths whiny. He’s enamoured by you, getting lost for a moment.
But he remembers himself and removes his hand from your face, instead holding your hip, your back arching off the wall slightly. He pushes his finger in the rest of the way, stroking against your walls, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit.
Your breaths turn into whimpers and as he pulls his finger in and out, you moan in response, the feeling overwhelming. Your hips are writhing in his grip, and your head is thrown back on the wall, moans growing louder.
He holds your hips steady, gaze flicking between the way your cunt is sucking his finger in and the fucked-out expression you’re wearing on your face. Your chest rising and falling quickly with your breaths.
For the first time in a while, he’s lost for words, he doesn’t even want to say anything. Just wants to push you over the edge, have you moaning and writhing against the wall for him. He’s painfully hard and ignoring it, but his dick twitches every time your cunt tightens or moans get louder.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Your ex pounds on the door, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
You had forgotten about him, too lost in your own pleasure. You squeak at his yelling and bite your lip.
“Don’t you fucken dare, need you to keep making those noises, sugar,” Johnny’s thumb tugs your lip free of your teeth.
The pounding beside your head gets louder, your ex yelling belligerently at the two of you, cursing Johnny out.
“She has the tightest little cunt!” Johnny calls out to your ex, just to piss him off further.
“Johnny,” you try admonishing him but his name borders on a whimper. The feeling of his finger moving in and out of you affecting you. Your moans are barely contained.
Your ex smacks the door harshly once before yelling at the two of you, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”
He murmurs curses, calling you names and yelling about how he was right the whole time, before you hear his stomping feet walk away. Seemingly leaving.
Briefly you wonder if Johnny will stop touching you now that your ex has left but if anything, his pace increases, his finger fucking into you quickly, thumb circling your clit firmly. Your moans spill from you, breaking off into whimpers. Johnny has a feral look on his face as he watches his finger fuck into you.
The wet sounds of your pussy getting louder with his increase in speed. His hand on your hip again, keeping you still. His forehead leans forward and rests against yours, you can’t help but watch his lips, wanting him to kiss you.
He’s busy watching your cunt, “Fuck, sugar, really do have the tightest pussy.” You shudder at his words and he continues talking, “Fucken, messy too.”
Your hands claw at the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself against something sturdy.
“Can I add another?” He asks, wanting to stuff you full of his fingers.
“Please,” it’s a desperate sound that escapes you.
His middle finger pulls out to add his ring finger alongside it, both pressing into you gently, not getting far with how tight you are. The width of them stretching you open, burning slightly. His thumb keeps rubbing at your clit, trying to ease the stretch.
“Relax, doll,” he directs.
Taking a deep breath in, you relax slightly and Johnny takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers into you completely.
A keening whine pulls from you at being full of his large fingers.
“Thas it, such a good girl for me,” he groans out at you.
Your pussy clenches down on his fingers at his praise and a soft moan escapes from him, his composure slipping for a moment. If you had your wits about you, you’d notice how his own eyes look a little fucked out, that he’s worked himself up so much just from finger fucking you.
His hand on your hip grips you tighter, grounding himself. Both his fingers fucking into you in earnest, determined to have you cumming on them. His pace picking up to what it was previously, your walls clinging to him desperately. His own breathing is coming quick.
You’re teetering on the edge of something beautiful, “Feels like too much,” you whine at him.
“It’s meant to feel like that,” he coos at you, pity in his voice.
His fingers are persistent and so big and your cunt is fluttering around him with how close you are. Your eyes close, eyebrows knitting together against the pleasure. You feel something brush against your lips, so softly, that you think you imagine it.
Johnny removes his hand on your hip, grabbing your face again. Thumb coming up to your mouth and pushing inside it, you take it, wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He groans at the sight and feel of your warm, wet mouth. He pushes his thumb down onto your tongue, you’re salivating against it, drooling slightly.
The pleasure he’s giving you is so much, from never being touched by someone like this to being touched by someone whose touch feels like he’s attempting to pull you apart from the very depths of your being, is an insane jump. His presence alone crushes you; this is a completely new experience.
Your cunt pulses around his fingers, your moans muffled around his thumb. Johnny’s eyes drop from your face and look down between you both, watching your pussy, again. Infatuated with how you’re taking his fingers.
“C’mon doll, can feel you, you’re so fucken close,” his voice is strained as he talks.
But his voice is devastating to you, the gruffness of it sends you over the edge, your hands paw at his chest, needing something to hold onto. His thumb removes itself from your mouth, grabbing one of your hands instead and interlocking fingers with you.
Your hips grind down into his hand, riding out your high, moans tumbling from your lips as you throw your head back, his name mixed in with your moans. Distantly, you can hear Johnny moan at your orgasm, delighted by the state of you. Your breathing is harsh, chest moving quickly, you feel far away from your body. Hearing poor with how the blood is rushing through your head.
Johnny pulls his fingers from you carefully, you’re watching him through dazed eyes, slumped against the wall. His own eyes looking at his fingers and the way they’re soaked in your slick and cum. He shocks you when he licks them clean before putting them in his mouth, sucking you off them. He hums around his own fingers at the taste of you.
The display is obscene and has a small whimper being pulled from your chest. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. His heated look making you squirm a bit.
He shoots you a charming smile, “I was right, you do make cute sounds.”
You cover your face with your hands, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze.
Johnny locates your shorts and helps put them back on you, he kisses the top of your head, “I got carried away, doll. I’m sorry.”
Pulling your hands away, you look at him. He’s wearing a troubled expression, disappointed in himself, seemingly, out of nowhere.
“It’s okay.” You assure him.
He shakes his head, “No it’s not, I should’ve known better, I’m older than you. Shouldn’t have done this.”
You’re getting a bit annoyed, you’re an adult and you told him yes when he asked, “Johnny, I agreed.” You try reminding him.
“Doesn’t matter, should’ve controlled myself.” He’s getting hung up on his morals, frustrated in his actions tonight.
“I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” you push.
He looks at you dubiously, something telling you that his internal struggle is deeper than what he’s sharing with you.
“I should go, doll. I am so sorry.” He apologises again, but there isn’t anything he needs to apologise for.
He doesn’t touch you as he leaves, he looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes out the door, not letting you argue with him any further. You hear him lock the door with his key as he leaves.
You’re left leaning against the wall, shell shocked as to what the hell just happened. He gave you your first and best orgasm and then left suddenly. Acting like he’s committed some kind of crime.
Calling him doesn’t work, he won’t pick up and he hasn’t replied to any of your texts. You don’t think he realises that he hadn’t fucked up before but he certainly has now, because what the fuck???
✰ ✰ ✰
By the next morning, Johnny still hasn’t replied and you have to go to work. You’re extra cautious as you leave your apartment, anxious about your ex possibly approaching you. Luckily he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you make it to work with no issues. Though, you did feel like somebody was watching you for a bit, you chalk it up to your nerves. The past few days not really doing great things for your psyche.
Your shift is a long one, gruelling. The whole day you’re thinking about your ex harassing you all day yesterday and when you finally think about something else, it’s about how Johnny is ghosting you.
On your break you try messaging him again, telling him it’s fine and if he regrets it that much to just forget about it. You aren’t going to be clingy and make him marry you or something now, if you knew how this would end, you wouldn’t have said yes. You don’t regret what happened but you will if you lose him as a friend over it. You want to convey that to him but you aren’t the best at communicating your feelings, things come out wrong and weird in your desperation to explain your thoughts.
So, you settle for sending him a text that boils down to ‘if you regret it, we can just forget it. I’m not mad at you’. Though, you feel like that might bite you in the ass later.
When your shift is finally over, you don’t want to go home. A bad feeling consuming your whole body, worried about what you might come face to face with. Worried you might run into your ex on the way back. You’d appreciate having one of your work friends walk you back but you don’t know any of them well enough to ask, and you don’t wanna call Johnny right now, not that he’d pick up anyways.
The walk back is tense, you’re on edge and when you get to your apartment, you realise you were right to be so. Your apartment door has a hole in it where it’s been kicked in, picking up your phone, you call Johnny but of course he’s still avoiding you. So, you leave a message for him and instead call the cops.
You wait for them to arrive; it doesn’t take them long but they weren’t quick about it either. They check it out for you, making sure it’s empty and when they confirm that it is, they tell you so. You walk into your apartment and they ask you a few questions.
You tell them, “I know who did it, it was my ex, he harassed me all day yesterday.”
“Did you report him?” One of them asks.
“Not at the time, but I didn’t think he’d do this,” you raise your hands, gesturing to your ransacked apartment.
“We can’t do much without actual proof, next time you’ll just have to hope to catch him in the act.” The other says.
“We will keep record of this, but yeah, unless you get actual evidence, we can’t do anything about him,” The first one adds.
You could definitely question him, you think.
This is why you didn’t want to deal with the cops in the first place, they never give a shit about things like this until someone is dead.
“Yeah thanks, I’ll be sure to prioritise that next time,” you tone is facetious but you can’t help it, your home has been broken into and possibly robbed and they couldn’t give less of a fuck.
They ignore your attitude, “If you find that some of your items are missing, report it, we’ve got another call to go on, stay safe.” And then they’re both leaving you there, in your messed up apartment.
The place you’re meant to feel safe has been broken into by someone you had dated for a year, someone you used to trust and now you’re just left here. Knowing that he’s still out there and could come back whenever he wants, they didn’t even ask for his name. What are you meant to do? Where are you meant to go? Cause there is no way in hell that you’re staying here.
You’ll have to look for hotels in the area, you’ve only made a few friends here and most of them are campus living. Also, you’d prefer people didn’t know about this. You’re feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone at the moment.
Looking around the room, you see that heaps of your breakables have been chucked around, he broke your tv, some of your favourite mugs, a framed picture of you and Johnny. He’s made holes in some of the walls and flipped over furniture.
Sighing, you go to check your room, and sadly, it didn’t fare any better, it looks like he cut open your mattress and tore up some of your clothes. A lamp broken and on the floor. Right after you just cleaned up the day before too, ironic.
You hear the sound of shuffling in the entryway, stuff being walked into, it makes you freeze in your spot. The footsteps become frantic, walking quickly around your apartment before heading towards where you are at the end of the hall in your bedroom. There isn’t anything you can grab as self-defence, but it’s okay because you see when he enters the room that it’s just Johnny. He was the one stomping around quickly, worried about you.
“Oh my God, why didn’t you pick up the phone, been calling you.” He stresses as he walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace.
You don’t hug him back, annoyed at him, but he doesn’t stop hugging you anyways.
“I put my phone down in the lounge room, didn’t think you were gonna call.” You weren’t expecting him to come, you weren’t even expecting him to check his texts from you, let alone a voicemail.
He huffs, agitated with himself, because yeah this is on him, “I’m sorry, I’ll always come when you call.”
“I called you first,” your voice shakes, tears threatening to fall.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
A tear slips down your cheek, “Don’t want you to be sorry, wanted you to be here.”
“I know, doll, I–” You think he was going to apologise again but cuts himself off, “What happened?” He still hasn’t let you go, and you still won’t hug him back.
“Came home from work, saw my door had been kicked in so I called you, you didn’t answer, so I called the cops.” You detail.
He asks, “What did they say?”
“They can’t do anything to him without proof,” you’re crying now, remembering just how unhelpful they were.
He pulls back to look at you, his thumb wiping away your tears, his hands holding your face gently, “What do you mean?”
“That’s what they said, they can’t do anything without evidence. This will be kept on record but because I have no proof, they can’t do anything about him.” You sigh out.
Johnny looks unbelievably pissed.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, he broke so many of my things, I don’t know where to go,” you’re almost sobbing now, working yourself up.
“Calm down,” he shushes you, “You’ll be staying with me.” Your expression is doubtful, “What’s that look for?” He questions.
“You literally just ghosted me out of nowhere, over an imaginary problem that you created,” you remind him.
His hands let go of your face and land on your shoulders, “That was me being stupid about me being stupid, I fucked up, but I am here for you and you will stay with me.” He cements, not really leaving you any room to disagree.
Tears are still falling down your cheeks, you wipe at them with the back of your hand, “Okay.”
“Good, now pack a bag,” he lets go of your shoulders.
Locating one of your suitcases, you pack as many clothes as you think you’ll need, as quickly as you need, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. You also grab some of your basic necessities and memorabilia.
On your way to the front door Johnny carries your bag, “Wait a sec,” you call out to him.
He stops where he is and you walk over to the lounge room, picking through the glass on the floor.
“Be careful,” he warns.
Humming at him in response, mostly ignoring him, you fish out the photo of the two of you. It’s one of your favourites and you’d hate to lose it.
Johnny’s expression is curious, “What is it?”
“Us,” you turn the photo around to show him, “It’s my favourite.”
He smiles at the photo before he frowns, “What a freak, real insecure guy,” he says in reference to your ex.
You smile a bit, because yeah your ex is very insecure and a huge freak but, “You literally fingered me within earshot of him.”
Johnny pouts and looks away, “Still…”
“Let’s leave,” you save him from whatever he was going to say in protest.
He nods at you, “Sounds good, sugar.”
✰ ✰ ✰
Walking through the lobby of Johnny’s apartment is always a bit of a shock, his apartment is nicer and has actual front desk security. You can already tell that you’ll feel safer here, even if you were left alone. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him though, he loved his mansion and he had to sell it.
The ride up the elevator is quiet, which you’re thankful for right now, you’re not really in a conversational mood. Just wanting to shower and get out of your work clothes, wash off the day in general.
Inside his apartment, he shows you to the guest room and drops your bag onto the bed.
Turning to him, you ask, “Can I have a shower?”
“I dunno, can you?”
You scowl at him, “May I have a shower?”
“You may,” he smiles cheekily.
He shows you to the bathroom, you’ve been here before but he’s a thorough man, double checking that you’re comfortable and know where everything is. When you affirm that you will be okay and have everything under control, he’s leaving you to your own devices, wandering off into the living area.
Grabbing your toiletries first before you’re immediately getting inside the shower. All too ready for the comfort the warm water will give you. You let the water run over you, allowing yourself a moment to lose your composure, letting yourself cry under the water. Things could be worse but they could also be better and in this private moment in the shower, you let yourself feel like the world is ending.
After you’ve finished in the shower, you towel yourself off quickly, walking to the guest room with the towel wrapped around you, having left your clothes in there. But as you shuffle the clothes around in your suitcase, you notice you’ve not packed any pyjamas, and now you want to cry again. Because how are you so stupid as to forget pyjamas.
Stopping yourself from spiralling, you take a few deep breaths and go looking for Johnny, you’ll just have to borrow a shirt of his. You find him in the kitchen, sipping on a drink.
“Johnny?” You call out to him; his back is facing you.
He hums as he turns around, eyes growing wide as he realises you’re only wearing a towel.
“What’s up, sugar?” He’s straining himself to keep looking into your eyes and not anywhere else.
Rocking on the balls of your feet a bit, you tell him, “I forgot pjs, do you have a shirt I can borrow or something?”
His gaze is distant for a second, you walk closer to him and wave a hand in front of his face. He catches you by the wrist, “Sure I do, gimmie a sec,” he smiles at you, his eye twitching the slightest bit as he talks.
He wanders away for a few moments, when he reappears, he’s holding a shirt of his. It’s long sleeved and has different coloured sleeves to the rest of the shirt, you gratefully accept it.
“Thank you,” you say, walking away hastily to change.
You hear him hum out a response to you as you waddle away quickly.
When you slip it over your head, you first note how soft and warm it is, and second you note how large it is on you. It covers your lower half fairly well, but you didn’t ask for bottoms and he didn’t give you any so you pick out a pair of boy short underwear, they aren’t anything special but they do have little stars all over them.
Anyways, they’ll do as more conservative bottoms for the night, you’ll go to get some of your pyjamas tomorrow. For now, these will pass as shorts, kind of, it’s unlikely they’ll even be seen anyways. Are you overthinking this? You feel like you’re overthinking this.
Exiting the room, you go back to the kitchen and notice that Johnny isn’t there anymore, nor is he in the lounge room. Shuffling around his kitchen, you look at his ingredients, wanting to cook him something as a thank you for taking you in temporarily.
He hasn’t got heaps but you can make a carbonara, he has the basics for it, pasta, cream, bacon, etc. You think this will do nicely, though mostly you’ve just talked yourself into wanting pasta.
When Johnny comes back into the kitchen, you’re standing by the stove making the cream. Quickly glancing to him, you realise he’s also showered. He looks good, domestic. In a casual t shirt and sweatpants, your eyes linger for a bit longer than what’s appropriate. Swiftly snapping your head back to the stove when you notice you’re staring for too long.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” he sing songs to you, coming up to stand by your side.
You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Creamy carbonara.”
“Smells good,” he comments.
“That would be the bacon,” you nod your head to the bacon bits you had previously cooked.
When you look up to him, he’s already looking down at you. His eyes are filled with a kind of affection for you that you’ve never taken any notice of. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, his hand coming up and grabbing the side of your face, thumb stroking high on your cheek bone.
You lean into his hand and he’s dipping down to you, “You look good in my shirt,” he whispers to you, lips almost touching.
Just as he’s about to take your lips in his, there’s a bubbling sounds coming from the stove.
“Ah, the pasta!” You move out of his grasp quickly, lowering the heat on the stove. It had almost boiled over in your distraction, “Go away! You’ll make me ruin something!”
“Wanna ruin you,” he mutters as he walks away, though you don’t hear him.
“What?” You ask him as he walks away.
He calls out, “Nothing!”
His restraint is wearing thin around you and he wonders briefly, if having you here is going to end well. He almost folded just from you wearing his shirt and cooking for him, he has to find a grip and hold it.
Seemingly, you are completely unaware of his own internal conflict, happily humming to yourself in his kitchen, cooking a meal for the both of you. Johnny watches you from the breakfast bar, enjoying the sight of you flitting around his kitchen.
“Where are your plates?” You ask him.
“Bottom cupboards, by the stove,” he answers.
Bending down you open the cupboards but there’s only baking trays and other miscellaneous oven trays in here. He watches as you bend over, enjoying the sight of his t shirt riding up, seeing your small ‘shorts’ as it does.
You huff, standing up, “No they aren’t.” You turn around to look at him.
“I know, I lied,” he smiles innocently at you.
Scowling at him you ask, “Why?”
He avoids the question, “Just cause,” he shrugs at you, “they’re actually in the bottom cupboards on the other side.”
You look at him sceptically, walking closer to him and looking in the cupboards again, and this time he told you the truth. Grabbing two plates, you place them on the bench top.
Choosing to ignore him, you continue humming a mindless tune as you dish out the pasta. When you’re finished, you slide the plate over to him. Walking yourself around the counter so you’re next to him, you sit beside him and reach forward, dragging your plate to yourself, ready to feast.
“Thanks, doll,” he says.
“Mmm, thank me when you’ve tried it,” you remark.
You both sit in a comfortable silence whilst you eat, which you are grateful for. You’re hungry and want to eat without having to stop to talk. The food tastes good, probably one of the better ones you’ve made, it’s an easy recipe, one of your go to’s and it never fails to fill a hole in your heart where pasta lives.
After you’ve finished, you get up to clean up but Johnny stops you, “Ah, you cooked, I’ll clean.”
“But I’m the one that made the mess,” you contend.
He looks at you with a brow raised, expression reading as ‘really?’ You sigh and allow him to take your plate. As he bends over your shoulder to take it, he kisses your cheek, “It was very good, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” your face feels hot all of a sudden.
He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, “What made you cook?”
“A thank you, for letting me stay,” you smile watching him clean up, “I’m being a good house guest.”
“Ah, can I expect a cooked meal every night then?” He teases.
Your face pulls up in a joking scowl, “Absolutely not! You can cook tomorrow… and the day after and the day after.”
“I see, so it was a one-time deal,” he nods in understanding.
“Can’t give it away for free, you gotta want it,” you joke.
A quiet falls over the both of you for a moment, neither of you sure what to say next.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him.
He’s moved away from the sink and is back at the bench, arms holding himself up on it as he looks at you deviously, “What movie?”
You know what he wants, “Not one of yours.”
“That’s not very nice, doll,” he groans out in complaint.
Arguing with him, you say, “I have already seen all of your films, we are not watching one tonight.”
“Whoever gets the remote picks the movie,” he states quickly before making a run for the lounge room.
You aren’t as quick as him, scrabbling out of your chair to chase after him, “Johnny, not fair!” You don’t even know where his tv remote is.
When you make it into the lounge, he’s already holding the remote, wiggling it back and forth, taunting you. Groaning, you trudge up to him.
“That was not fair,” you complain.
He has a large victorious smile on his face, “Wasn’t trying to be fair, sugar. I was trying to win.”
Trying to be sneaky, you move closer to him, but he holds a hand up as you approach, “Ah ah, stay where you are, I won,” he informs.
“I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.
He keeps moving away from you, you’ve successfully rounded him so that his back is facing the couch now. Moving closer to him, he has no where else to go. It doesn’t bother him though, he squares his posture, holding his ground.
“I wouldn’t recommend whatever you’re about to do, doll.” He warns you.
You repeat again, “I’m not doing anything.”
Standing right up against him now, you go to quickly grab the remote but he moves it up and away hurriedly. You grab onto his forearm and try to pull it down as you jump for it, he’s laughing at you. His evasion of your attempts at grabbing the remote are effortless, you’re still trying to pull his arm down to you but you think he’d sooner be able to hold all your weight on one of his arms, than you bringing it down to you.
This isn’t working, you need a new plan. Pulling back, you look up at him.
“That won’t work on me,” he says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” comes your reply.
“That,” he gestures towards your face, “Looking at me all cute like, won’t work, not tonight.”
You smile sweetly at him, “But another night, it would work?”
He squints at you, unsure of what you’re planning, “Maybe…”
Your plan wasn’t anything along these lines, but it’s fun to know that apparently you could get him to bend to your will in different circumstances with just a sweet look.
Stretching up, you go for the remote again, he steadily holds it out of reach, “C’mon sugar, you know this isn’t working–”
You take the chance while he’s talking to jump up on him, legs wrapping around his hips, your hands making a move for the remote. He’s shocked, his free arm automatically coming to rest under you to hold you steady. The only thing he can think to do, is drop the remote onto the floor and kick it across the room, away from the both of you.
“No!” You protest, moving to unwrap yourself from him and go after the remote.
Johnny holds you to him though, before using his grip on you to chuck you down onto the couch, you’re laughing and struggling against him, still protesting. You don’t stop wiggling, even though he’s straddled you and is holding your wrists down to the couch.
“Stop squirming so much,” he chuckles at you. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up your hips, exposing your underwear completely to him, “Those are really cute, doll,” he teases you.
“You can’t distract me, we are not watching one of your movies,” your wrists struggle against his grasp.
“I can hold you here all night, sweetness,” his smile devilish.
You scowl at him, “If it means we don’t watch your movie, then go right ahead.”
His threat isn’t much of a threat to you, in this moment you feel yourself growing wet at his harsh hold on you. The way he effortlessly overpowered you making you feel some kind of way, you find yourself wishing he’d fuck you into the couch. You’re working yourself up the longer he holds you here. Your thighs lightly clenching at the thought of being opened up on his cock, the first man you’d ever be with.
“What are you thinking bout, sugar?” He asks, catching the faraway look in your eyes.
You blink once and shake the thoughts out of your head, “thinking about how much I don’t wanna watch your movie,” you retort.
“Aww you’re hurting my feelings here, doll.” His expression faux sadness.
Both of you looking into each other’s eyes, neither of you planning to cave, at least not anytime soon. Johnny has enough of it and decides to play dirty, his hands leaving your wrists and instead come up to tickle at your sides and ribcage.
Laughs fall from your lips, along with pleas trying to ask him to stop. The feeling making it harder to breathe, you’re taking in big breaths in between gasping laughs. Your body tries wiggling away from him, you manage to flip onto your stomach and try to crawl away from him but his thighs keep you locked in place, if anything you’re more immobile now. His tickling is unrelenting and you feel like you might pass out.
Tapping the couch as you say, “Okay, okay! I concede, just please stop!”
He hums and leans down from above you, whispering into your ear, “Good girl.”
You hide your face in the couch, skin hot and pussy aching, he isn’t being very nice to you tonight. Working you up, leaving you high and dry. He hops off you and grabs the remote, lifting your legs and sitting back down, resting them in his lap.
He slaps your leg lightly, “C’mon, you have to watch it now.”
Grumbling to yourself as you move up in a sitting position next to him, expression none too pleased. He’s smiling brilliantly at you though, overjoyed with his victory.
Sighing as you sink back into the couch, “I dislike you right now.”
“Well, I like you a whole lot right now,” He counters.
He flicks the movie on and you get about a third of the way into it when your eyelids start slipping shut, tired from the very difficult last couple days.
Thankfully, your dreams are pleasant, though they are filled with Johnny, mostly memories of last night, when you were stuffed full of his fingers, the sounds he was making, the words he spoke to you.
Your mind conjures images of him fucking you, how he would look above you, grabbing your hips as he rocked his dick in and out of you. The dream is pleasant, the feelings it offers you divine.
Suddenly, you’re being pulled back to your body, you awaken with a jolt.
“You fell asleep! That’s really rude of you, y’know. Hurting my feelings here, doll,” he criticizes you.
Based on the last scene you remember watching and where you are now, he either let you sleep for a while, or didn’t realise you were asleep.
You wipe at your eyes, “Mm sorry,” you mumble, stretching out a little.
He’s got an evil smile on his face when you look him in the eyes, “You were moaning.”
“Was not!” You don’t believe him.
“You definitely were, and I’d know,” his smile large as he teases you, “It was cute, what were you dreaming about, mmm?” he hums in delight.
You wonder for a moment what his end goal is here, he teases you but never follows through, aside from the other night but then he seemingly regretted that right after it happened. You decide to try something outside of your comfort zone.
You look at him, “And if I told you I was dreaming of you?”
He goes to shut you down, “I don’t–”
“–If I told you how wet I am right now, from thinking of you?”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?” You press.
“You know damn well ‘why not’,” He argues, “I’m older than you, and you’re a virgin!” He tells you these things like you don’t already know.
“…I want you, making my panties all wet,” you’re squirming in your seat lightly.
He groans out at your words, “Doll…” his expression is pained.
Feeling insecure you ask, “Do you not want me?”
“Are you kidding?” Dubious expression on his face, “You get me so hard, doll.”
“Then why won’t you even kiss me?”
“I want to, all the time,” he confesses.
You crawl across the couch and straddle his lap, his hands come up to your hips straight away. Grip digging into your skin, restraining his desire, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you how he wants.
“Why don’t you,” you press him for answers.
“Don’t trust myself around you, can’t help but tease you, touch you,” his grip on your hips tightens for a second, “The last thing I wanna do is take advantage of you.”
“I want you to take advantage of me,” the statement is true, you’ve never wanted to be with a man more than you do him.
He’s using every fibre of his being to control himself right now, refusing to do any more than hold you, his hands are holding you away from his lap. Knowing if he feels the warmth of your cunt through your panties, he’s going to lose his mind and all self-control.
Bringing your hands up, you place them on his shoulders, and then you lean forwards. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, moving to the other and placing a kiss there, his breaths become laboured. Your lips travel across his cheek, pecking him as you go, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then a light kiss to his full lips, he sighs against you and kisses you back.
It’s quick, because you’re continuing to peck kisses on his face, a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and his other cheek again. As you travel back, kiss on the corner of his mouth again, and as you kiss him lightly on his lips, he kisses you back harshly, hands coming up and grabbing your face. He angles you and deepens the kiss, his kiss is desperate for you, fuelled by need.
Without his hands on your hips, you can drop to his lap properly, you sigh at the hardness of his dick against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the kiss. You moan against his mouth in response and he groans.
Tentatively, you grind down into him lightly, needing some kind of friction. He distracts himself with kissing you, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your pussy grinding into his very hard dick. You’re so horny and this isn’t nearly enough for you.
Pulling away from his mouth you complain, “Want more.”
“You really are needy, aren’t ya, doll?” He teases.
But you roll your hips into his and he grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips again, without your lips on his, he’s hyper focused on the way you rut into his dick. You pull his sweats down, his cock bare, he’s not wearing anything under his pants and it has you moaning.
You sit down again; your panties are soaked and the feel of the slippery fabric rubbing up and down his cock has Johnny whimpering. You keep grinding into him, groaning in frustration, wanting more.
His hand grabs onto your panties and rips them from you, just straight up tearing them off your body, the display of strength makes you whimper.
“You gotta do this my way, sugar.” He tells you.
You nod your head at him, you’d probably agree to arson right about now.
“God, so fucken eager.” He chuckles at you, sliding you against him again.
The bare contact has you keening, rutting down onto him with more urgency. Wet squelching noises are filling the room as you slide against his cock, you want him inside you so badly. The thought of having him inside you making your cunt drool on his dick.
“You’re so fucken wet, ffffuck,” Johnny is groaning out, his control of the situation hanging on by a thread.
“I want you inside,” you tell him.
“No,” his voice is stern, it’s a line he refuses to cross.
You huff at him, “Johnny please–”
“ – You can plead all you want, Mm not fucking you, your first time isn’t –nghff– going to be on my damn couch,” his voice is strained.
“Want it,” you tell him, eyes teary with how needy you feel.
“And you think I don’t?” He snaps at you. His reaction makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb, “God, you are sooo –ngh– feel so good, sugar.”
His grip is guiding you now, taking control of the pace, of the pressure. He holds you tightly to him, slipping his cock through your slick folds, the head of his cock bumping your clit. Lewd wet sounds are coming from you and if you weren’t so horny you might’ve been embarrassed at how aroused you are.
The head of his cock catches on your pussy hole and you flutter around the very tip of him, a loud grunt coming from Johnny, his chest rumbling with the force of it.
“Please?” You try again, while he’s weak.
He shakes his head at you, his own expression dazed, “No…” he grits out, cock twitching against you.
You push down a bit on him, his eyes shoot to yours, a restrained kind of anger residing inside them, “I said no.” He scolds.
His chastising makes your cunt flutter against him again and his eyes roll back, he pulls you away from him. He manhandles you onto your back so you’re laying against the couch, he pulls off his shirt before spreading your legs open for him, his hips fitting between them.
Resting his cock between your folds again, slipping against you, “You take what I give you, or you get nothing, doll.”
You hum out a moan, letting him do whatever he wants to you. He tugs his shirt up your chest, exposing your upper half to him, mouth immediately going for one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it. The feeling making you whine, chest rising up into him, hips chasing his.
When he pulls away, he nips at you a bit, a shudder running down your spine. As he looks you in your eyes again he says, “Jesus, you have no idea how fucked out you look right now, pretty little girl, so fucken wet, so goddamn needy.”
He grinds down into you, leaning his body against yours, his weight resting on his forearms beside your head. Your hands grip his bare back, his head rests beside your ear, lips whispering filth to you.
“Want me to fuck you so badly hmm? Won’t fuck any of your little boyfriends –ngh– but you’re beggin’ me for my cock,” his words are disrupted by the moans he lets out at the feeling of your slippery cunt.
“Mhmm,” you agree because, yeah pretty much, “I’d let you do almost –hah– anything to me,” you tell him.
He curses, “Fucken filthy, you’re making me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”
You wrap your legs around his hips, locking them behind him, his movements grow more urgent, desperately humping into you. He pulls his head from your ear to kiss you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth, it has you moaning into him.
Pulling back, he checks, “Let me do anything?”
You nod your head at him in confirmation.
“Open your mouth,” his thumb tugs your lip down.
You open your mouth for him and he spits into your mouth, onto your tongue, the action makes you gasp, face hot.
“Swallow,” he says, eyelids low.
His voice makes you shudder and you swallow his spit down, the sight of it makes him curse. He kisses you again, taking your breath away. Your fingernails dig into his back.
His hips are rutting into you, pace growing quicker, the wet noises sounding slicker, the way he glides over your clit has your eyes crossing behind closed lids. Your moans turn into whimpers, right on the precipice of cumming.
Johnny pulls his lips back, forehead resting against yours, his brows knit together, moans falling from his lips. His tongue flicks over his lip quickly, you’re gasping under him.
“Look so fucken perfect, doll. Should I keep you like this under me? Play with you how I like, mmm?”
His words and deep voice are what send you over the edge, the idea of him teasing you how he pleases has you cumming. You’re sputtering out nonsensical words, whimpers ruining any words you try to create.
Johnny groans at the sight of you cumming, he looks down between the two of you, enamoured by how he’s sliding through your folds. His cock wet and shiny from your slick and cum, it has a shudder running down his spine.
“Wan you to – nghfffuck me nex time, wan – hah – na be fill with you, –mm– with your – ngh – cum,” you’re babbling to him, barely making sense to yourself, you aren’t even convinced you’re talking right now.
But Johnny knows you are, your words have him cumming violently, dick jerking against your cunt, his cum spilling all over your pussy and lower stomach. His groans turn into moans, and then he’s whimpering as he keeps rutting against you.
He looks at your lower half and the way his cum has gotten all over you, he uses two fingers to scoop it up and shoves them in your mouth. The taste bitter but you suck his fingers clean, swallowing around them. His gaze is captivated by you, groaning at you eating his cum.
Johnny gets up from you and tugs on his sweats, walking away momentarily and coming back not long later with a washcloth, wiping the rest of his cum off of you. When he’s cleaned it off you, he tugs your shirt back down, giving you back some of your modesty. Wandering off again, he disposes of the cloth and comes back with a glass of water.
“Drink this, sweetness,” he instructs, handing the cup to you.
Sitting up on the couch, you accept the cup and drink it down, appreciating the kindness. He sits beside you and strokes his hands up and down your thighs.
He takes the cup from you and places it out of the way, you’re a little dazed still, lost for words at what just happened.
“This can’t happen again,” he tells you gently.
Your expression is confused, “Why not?”
“I won’t be able to control myself next time.”
“I didn’t want you to this time,” you retort.
“Sugar, it’s not just a couple years between us, it’s a decade,” he stresses, “This is inappropriate.”
“Johnny, I appreciate your concern but I am an adult and I can choose who I sleep with.”
“I don’t want to defile you,” he’s terrified of ruining you somehow, of taking advantage.
“If you don’t want to ‘defile’ me, I’ll go fuck someone else and then it won’t be like I lost my virginity to you.” You’re just teasing him.
“Do not fuck someone else,” the look he gives you is even and serious, not even considering the idea of you having sex with someone else. He doesn’t find your comment funny.
You ask him eagerly, “Does that mean you will have sex with me?”
The look on his face is one of a good man trying so hard to stick to his morals. You smile at him sweetly and he practically melts for you, he grabs you and pulls you to him for a hug. Laying back on the couch with you resting on top of him.
He sighs, “Maybe one day.”
You can work with that for now, you smile to yourself, proud of your small win.
✰ ✰ ✰
A/N: Thank you for reading it all!!! I hope you enjoyed it; I wrote a 1k outline for this fic and I wasn’t expecting it to get this long but I’m not mad about it :)) Hopefully you aren’t either! I have a part two planned for this, I’ll probably only write it if people ask for it just cause this one took me a few days to write heheh. As always, requests are open, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions about me, my blog, or specific fics, I love interacting with everyone and answering questions <33 I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL
˗ˏˋPart twoˎˊ˗
#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage x reader smut#johnny cage smut#johnny cage mk1#johnny cage x you#mk1 smut#mk1 2023#mk smut#smut#fanfic
729 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
