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roraruu · 1 year

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YOTO: April

Ignatz/Dorothea. Canon divergence/“no I’m not dating your brother”.

Derdriu was the last place Ignatz thought he’d ever seen Dorothea Arnault.

It was a momentary glance, as he left a client’s business on behalf of his parents. The gold jingled in his pockets, hitting against his thigh. His eyes trained to the ground, he focused on the salty, sour scent of the nearby sea, the cool winter air, the sounds of merchants advertising their wares and people passing and—

The softest, sweet tone took to the air. He listened harder. He knew that voice.

“Dorothea?”

A pair of jade eyes looked back at him, pleading and overjoyed.

“Ignatz?”

—

Dorothea is as charming and bewitching as she was in the academy. And she eats—her manners impeccable and conduct befitting of a lady—like she hasn’t seen food in a month.

The restaurant is warm and bustling. After noticing the cut of the dress Dorothea wore and her pale complexion, Ignatz requested a table closest to the hearth and speedily ordered a pot of tea.

She is all graces and thank yous, gentle inclines of her head in which her bangs fall into her eyes and she continuously pushes it behind her ears to stay away from her lovely mouth.

She explains, between a delicate sip of her tea that she had helped with the dispersal of the Enbarr Opera House and the Mittelfrank Opera Company, her alma mater.

“I wanted to help people.” She murmurs. “But…”

“I understand.” Ignatz says as another bowl of bread arrives, and with it another refill of the teapot with hot water..

“My finances aren’t exactly liquid. I managed to find a way from Enbarr to here. Bern was kind enough to convey me, without her father’s knowing, but she couldn’t come with me.”

“Why the Alliance?” Ignatz finds himself asking.

Dorothea’s face takes on a grave countenance. “I love Edie… Loved. But I cannot stand by while she murders innocents.” She says softly. “And the Kingdom did not seem much better.“ She forces, what he expects was to be a chipper giggle, but it’s a defeated chuckle. “I’d probably freeze passing over the border.”

“So you came here.”

“I had the pleasure of taking tea with Claude once or twice, and unfortunately, Lorenz too. They made this place sound beautiful.”

“It is quite breathtaking.” He says, glancing out the far-off window. If he squints, he can catch a glimpse of the grey sea.

“I crossed the Bridge of Myrddin and came here. Most of my funds are gone, but…” She forces a smile. “I’m here.”

“Are you going to stay with Claude?”

“My housing situation is… it isn’t fixed.”

“Well then you must stay with us.”

“Us?”

Ignatz nods. “My family.” He explains. “My brother is studying beneath my father to inherit the business—the Victor Trading Company—and he sends me out on small jobs.” He makes himself sound brighter. “Like today. I had just finished a commission before crossing paths with you.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“Dorothea,” Ignatz says firmly. She meets his gaze. He notices that she’s grown thinner, her face pale. “I must insist.”

She heaves a sigh, reaches across the table and pats his hand. He feels his face heat. “At least… At least let me ask.”

Ignatz smiles. “Whatever you please.” He agrees and encourages her to take the last sweet bun.

***

A plan is worked out over steaming cups of tea. It takes a little lying—but with Ignatz’s newfound confidence—it is nothing more than a bent truth.

With his cut from the commission, he puts Dorothea up in an inn for the evening—specifically the Kristen Cottage run by his best friend, Raphael. When the jovial brawler sees Dorothea and Ignatz he pulls her into a bear hug and twirls her around. His little sister, Maya, almost drops her dishes upon seeing the famed Mystical Songstress herself.

Raphael closes the tavern, insists that Ignatz stay for a drink while Maya helps Dorothea upstairs and tends to her. They talk, and when Dorothea returns, she relays her story to the Kirsten siblings. At the end, Raphael asks the crucial question:

“So, what happens now?”

“Well, Raphie, that’s where you come in.” She says. “I need work. Have you any need for entertainment? I can sing, dance, I’ll even help in the kitchen!”

“But what about…” Ignatz falls silent as Dorothea grabs his hand beneath the table.

“Of course we do!” Maya exclaims happily.

“My, Grandpa hasn’t approved—”

Maya turns back to Raphael—she’s tinier than him but just as loud. “Raph! A former opera star in our joint? That would drag! The! Customers! In!”

Dorothea smiles softly. “It would…” she says. “I remember all of my best roles!”

Maya turns to Dorothea, eyes wide. “R-Really? Oh, even as Marguerite?” She asks. “She’s my favourite one of your roles… The songs were all so sad, I cried buckets!”

“Well I hope you have a pail,” says Dorothea with a wink. “if Raphie has me, I’ll sing them all for you.”

“Please?” Maya whines.

Raphael gives in. “Alright, of course.” He says. “But we can only put you up for a while. It’s sorta packed in here tonight. You could stay with us, we’re downstairs in the basement.”

Dorothea’s eyes grew glassy. “It’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Thank you Raphael.”

As the night drew to a close, Ignatz begins to say his farewells, promising to check-in on them the following day. Dorothea, unexpectedly, throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight.

“Thank you Ignatz. For everything.” She whispers softly.

He feels himself blush again and promises anything for her.

Over the course of the next few days, in between Dorothea working tirelessly as the new—and showstopping headliner for the Kirsten Cottage—and Ignatz’s own duties keeping up client communications and other duties, they met a few times in the warm tavern.

It was after close and Ignatz comes for a sole glass of wine. Dorothea sits beside him, humming softly under her breath.

“Do you still draw?”

His ears grow hot. Guiltily, he replies. “W-When I have a moment of privacy, yes. But those moments are few and far between.”

“That’s sad.”

He remains quiet. “It must be gratifying to do what you love as a career.”

“I mean, look where it got me.” Dorothea muses. “Getting into Enbarr during the military lockdown was a nightmare, and then to break up my family… It was hell.”

Ignatz inclines his head. “I’m sorry Dorothea. I should’ve been more prudent.”

“It’s fine.” She says before tapping her nails across the table. “But…”

He looks at her encouragingly. She leans closer, glancing towards the kitchen where the Kirsten siblings clean up for the night. “Somedays I wished I never sang at all.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm.” She nods. “It’s… I love it, but constantly singing over and over… It takes all the meaning out of it.”

“But you do what you love.” He asks, surprised.

“Yes, and I get tired of it.” Dorothea says before hastily adding, “but I’m eternally grateful to Raphael and his family for giving me the work… I just wish… I wish I weren’t so tired of singing.”

“You…” Ignatz murmurs before meeting her gaze. “And it isn’t like you can afford to take a break.”

“No.” She confirms. “Unless I make up a paycheque in another way.”

Silence falls between the two.

“I still… I can’t believe you don’t love singing anymore.”

“I do it so much, the joy is stripped from it.” She confesses quietly to him.

The words stalk him all the way home and up to his room where he gazes at his painting tools before succumbing to sleep.

***

Ignatz’s mother—Cressida—and his younger sister a year his junior named Celeste—are more shocked when he says he’s met someone.

Cressida’s eyes widen and she lowers her teacup very quickly. Ignatz has always known his mother to be refined and ladylike: calm, quiet, watchful. He feels her brown eyes—the only thing he got from her—on him as Celeste prods him.

“A lady friend?” She smirks, at the age of 19, and still as annoying as she was at seven. “When do I buy a new parasol and lace and welcome a sister?”

Quickly, he insists, “She’s an old friend from Garreg Mach.” Ignatz explains, watching Celeste’s mischievous look.

“Probably some baron’s daughter. You could do worse, I suppose, Brother.”

“She’s passing through Derdriu.”

“Where to?”

“Gloucester. She will be singing for the Count and his son.”

Cressida studies her son’s face. He’s gotten too good with lying; for years, he’d fidget with his hands or look away… A small tic that would render him guilty. “She is a singer?” She inquires.

“Formerly of the Mittelfrank Opera Company.”

Cressida looks intrigued. “Oh. I recall seeing the company when they were in Derdriu before the war and when you were at the Academy.”

“You would have missed her. She was one of my classmates.”

Cressida remains silent.

“So why’s she talking to you?” Celeste prods. “If she’s some big opera star…”

“She confessed that she always enjoyed my company.” He lies. “And I enjoyed hers, so we have spent a little time together.”

Celeste smirks, then murmurs under her breath, “here comes the bride…”

“Celeste.” Cressida says quietly. Celeste stops humming and turns back to her eggs which are now cold.

Her brown eyes fall on Ignatz, encouraging him to go on.

“I would like host her for a meal.“

“Very well.” Cressida agrees. “Your father and Atticus will be dining out tonight, so bring her around.”

Ignatz tenses. The plan was to have both his father and brother around. Without him, his mother will never offer accommodations, at least not without a push.

So Ignatz, for the first time in his life, pushes.

“Might she stay the night?” He asks, his face reddening. Celeste’s eyes go wide as if she’s about to snort at him. “I would like her to meet Father.”

Cressida narrows her gaze on him. “Why?”

“I think they would get along, Mother.”

Cressida pauses, sips her tea and then acquiesces. “Very well. Bring her to the manor at five and no later.”

***

If there was ever any doubt as to Dorothea’s charms, it was dispelled in the moment she met Cressida.

Ignatz had always known his mother—like his father—as hard-to-please, but Dorothea was the most satisfying creature to her ever. Even Atticus, who had always been her favourite, was quickly forgotten when Dorothea engaged her in conversation.

As Celeste serves the coffee, she murmurs to Ignatz, “Okay, maybe I doubt you, but never again.” She promises. “She’s gorgeous.”

Ignatz acquiesces. “She is. And she’s quite kind.”

Little lies and bent truths are shared that evening. Dorothea explains that she’s passing through to sing for Lorenz and his father—the name drop impresses Cressida—and then she details her roles, and as they sit in the drawing room, Cressida insists that Dorothea sing for her.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Ignatz insists, turning to his mother nervously. “We wouldn’t want to impose on our guest…”

“No,” Dorothea says gently. “I’d love to sing for you.”

Ignatz thinks back to the conversation in the tavern. How she began to loathe singing. But as she sings her bars and warms her voice up, Ignatz cannot help but long to paint her. Those jade eyes, that chestnut hair, the willowy frame and ruddy cheeks… She is an artist’s dream, walked off the canvas.

She sings beautifully for almost a half hour. Cressida is highly impressed and gives her ready approval, and even Celeste is shocked when Dorothea proves not only to be witty, beautiful and talented, but also kind.

Cressida insists that she will stay the night and tells Ignatz to set her up in the east wing of the house, prefacing that she may see the lovely sunrise that pales in comparison to her beauty. After they say goodnight, Ignatz offers her his arm and leads her up the staircase.

She reaches for his hand and smiles at him. She gives it a reassuring little squeeze, and he gives one back. As they reach the top of the stairs, Dorothea whispers to him:

“Will you show me your paintings?” She asks quietly. “I know art’s a personal thing… I don’t think I could ever show a half-finished song to someone else…”

“Y-Yes…” He finds himself taking her hand and leading her to his room. The moon streams into through the lone window of his sombre little room.

He turns to the closet and pulls from it a few sketches and his tiny easel which has a half-finished still-life of the view outside his window. Blushing and embarrassed, he practically throws them at Dorothea, hurriedly insisting that he knows they’re not good, that they’re nothing special.

“Ignatz…” Dorothea barely breathes. “These are beautiful.”

He looks up in shock. “B-But…” He scrambles for words. “I was so insensitive to your feelings about art!”

Dorothea smiles gently and touches his hand reassuringly. “Ignatz, I’m not me, and you’re not you.” She says gingerly. “We’re different people with different outlooks… You want to become a painter, right?”

He nods sheepishly.

“Then I hope, with all my heart, that you can become one someday.” She turns her eyes back on a sketch of Saint Cethleann. “You’d be a wonderful artist. I’m certain you would be.”

Ignatz blushes softly and moves closer as she asks a question about the next sketch—of Saint Cichol, his wife and their daughter—and he explains the details. His hand brushes against hers, their fingers intertwining briefly—

“And who is this?”

Ignatz jolts at the deep voice, his blood running cold. His face goes red. In the doorway is his elder brother, Atticus. Dorothea glances his way and smiles softly, curtseys and introduces herself as the evening’s guest and her credentials.

Atticus studies Dorothea before making a comment beneath his breath about his “useless drawings” and leaving the two. Dorothea’s smile fades.

“He’s exactly the type of man I’d hate to be with at the opera…” She whispers to him. “And exactly the one who’d pay for a dinner with me.”

Ignatz’s stomach rolls with anxiety.

Dorothea steals a glimpse at his expression and laughs softly. “Don’t worry, I’m not dating your brother.” She promises.

“Thank the goddess…” Ignatz whispers.

She hugs him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He hugs her back and smiles. “Anything for you.”

He shows Dorothea her room, and upon returning to his, takes charcoal to paper and attempts to sketch the likeness of her face, falling asleep in his art before long.

***

Ignatz’s father, Augustus, makes quick decisions. It is, perhaps, what has kept him in business for so long, and flourishing for just as long. And that morning, when Ignatz nervously introduces the two, he immediately takes a liking to Dorothea.

She turns on the charms quickly, and as she’s about to collect her bags and return to the Kirsten’s Cottage, Augustus asks to see her in his study. She winks at Ignatz and he waits nervously outside, in the drawing room with Celeste as the plays the piano.

When Dorothea emerges, she wears a self-assured smile. Ignatz quickly gets up and meets her in the hallway.

“Your father says the garden is pretty. Will you show me?” She asks.

“Of course.” They go outside to the frosty garden and walk a few paces away from the windows.

“Well?”

“Your father… he asked that I shadow you. He thinks that we could be a good selling team.” Dorothea says. “What do you say, Iggy?”

“Iggy?”

“You needed a nickname. Your name, though it is handsome, is a bit imposing and long.” She says. “You okay with it? You can call me Thea, if you’d like?”

“No no,” He declines respectfully. “Your name is too beautiful to be shortened.”

She smiles softly. “You think so?”

He nods. “I do. And as for the partnership, I don’t think I could ask for a better match.”

Dorothea smiles, and then stands on the tips of her toes and pecks him on the cheek. Ignatz goes bright red.

Gazing at her, he smiles and confesses, “I don’t think I could either.”

***

In Imperial Year 1185, on the day of promised meeting, Ignatz Victor and Dorothea Arnault arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery together. The three years since their reunion in Derdriu had proved fruitful: Dorothea joined the Victor Trading Company as a sales agent, working alongside Ignatz. She easily used her wit and charms to seal deals with particularly hard-to-please clients. She’d also passed on that charm and confidence to Ignatz, which his former classmates noticed immediately.

In addition to his newfound confidence, Ignatz had gained a deeper reverence for his artistic side. After being found one night attempting to paint Dorothea’s likeness, she modelled for him. His parents, finally understanding the depth of his talent, allowed him time off—though minimal—to study and paint.

In their moments of peace, it was said that Dorothea and Ignatz would share their talents together—Dorothea, who had retired from the stage, would sing only for him, and Ignatz would happily draw anything she wished.

After the war, when Dorothea completed an opera—called the Crimson Flower, based upon her late, dear friend—Ignatz was the one to paint the posters and served as creative consultant. While not singing, Dorothea directed the opera to critical acclaim, and acted as a guardian to the new talent she selected for the show.

When the two had grown tired of the stage, they departed for new lands. Ignatz’s work, which grew in popularity thanks to the production and his own skills, was in demand and often peddled by Dorothea. It was often remarked, by friends and complete strangers, the couple were an odd, but well-suited match.

#year of the otp #FE3H #dorothea arnault #ignatz victor #ru writes #listen i know this is a weird ass ship but i thought about it in passing in november and havent been able ot think of anything else.#this isn’t an April fool’s joke I’m dead serious I think they could work and i may fuckindie on this hill #still crazy into dorovain though #Ignatz X Dorothea #god that’s so fucking weird #but fr dorothea throwing herself dramatically on a couch like ‘draw me like one of your derdriu girls Iggy!!’ And he’s just sobbing and #covered in charcoal bc he’s been drawing for hours and can’t get her nose right and he just wants to sleep #there’s potential i swear there is #also i may write the other idea i had which is essentially like. The above but in a uni au where they’re both broke #and dorothea is a struggling actress who only gets roles to play a dead body on crime shows and a dramatic soapy villain who dies on a soap #opera. Yes i am projecting about Aileen Ashby’s death on GH and stealing from my FWB au #anywyas i work in like. 7 hours bye.

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home-grown-magic · 2 years

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Finish one, start the next.

And I finally got to use my swift I bought in January, so that's pretty neat too.

#I'm actually super jazzed about that #i was able to bold ot on the stool and sit on the couch to do it #im going to afterthought this heel too because i think the color is foing to pool very nicely #i wish id been brave enough to try afterthought heels on some of the other socks ive done but #they all turned out great #anyway heres some tags #crafts #yarn crafts #knitting #wip #knit #wip wednesday #sock knitting #diy #diy craft #knitblr #socks #hand knit socks #blue socks

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sammi-xox · 2 years

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i think my little toe is broke

#it hurts #i like slamed it down on a metal bed frame and then i wanted to show my mom and the she stepped on ot trying to get the dog of the couch #bc he had muddy feet 😢

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nanaslutt · 6 months

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Ever thought of dry-humping? As in reader and whoever jjk men of your choice, rutting against each other towards their orgasms

Dry humping with tojiiiiii (might make this a series with diff characters if the demand is there)

contains: fem reader, established relationship, manhandling, making out, dry humping, rough humping, size kink if you squint, dirty talkkk, he cums in his pants :p

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You and Toji were taking things slow. Not because you wanted to but because he wanted you to be something more than his other fuck buddies and girlfriends in the past. He knew from the moment he met you that you would be more than just some good fuck on a Thursday. He promised himself he was going to do it right, follow all the steps, and not rush anything as to make sure this time really worked, he really did like you around after all.

He also knew you didn't have a ton of experience in the dating arena. You had been with one or two people and have done most of the basic sexual acts excluding sex. Toji was well aware he could be a rough 'lover', fucking his partner of the night into oblivion with his massive cock for some quick cash or to relieve his stress. That was another thing, Toji was by no means small, and he was afraid of losing control and hurting you. He wasn't even really sure if waiting was the best method because it seemed as the days passed his need to feel you grew more and more.

He was hyperaware of everything you did, and everything you did seemed to arouse him. Anything from bending over in too-tight shorts and giving him a delicious view of your clothed cunt, to tucking your hair behind his ear seemed to give him a massive boner. Toji spent most nights with his large hand wrapped around his cock as he furiously jerked off to photos or thoughts of his sweet little girlfriend. The only thing that kept him sane was the thought that one day he would fuck you.

The two of you made out quite frequently, never going past heavy petting under each other's clothes and the sloppy kisses you gave one another that could last hours. You respected Toji's wishes to take things slow, but you were always dejected when he would excuse himself to the bathroom after a heavy makeout session for reasons he never revealed, but it was quite obvious.

You wouldn't let him get away with that this time though. Although you understood his reasons why he wasn't taking things further, you had needs too, and you wanted to please your man. The two of you were on the couch, the TV playing some drama show in the background while you sat on his lap, his large hands gripping the sides of your waist, yours in his hair, while you kissed him hungrily.

"Mmm- mm-" Toji pulled back from the kiss, the two of you breathing heavily into the space between you. "Somethin' wrong?" You asked, dropping your lips to his neck as you started to kiss him gently there, sucking his skin into your mouth to leave little hickeys as you waited for his answer. "M' fine Doll." He assured, squeezing your waist as he let his eyes drop shut at the feeling of your soft lips against his neck.

You moaned against his skin, pressing your tits closer against his chest as you trailed your mouth down his neck until you reached his collarbone, nipping the skin softly there. "Ah.. easy baby." He said breathlessly, tipping his head to the side at your manipulation when your hand tilted his face to give you more access to his neck. You continued moaning against his skin as you sucked purple hickeys into his pale neck.

The man underneath you was holding onto your waist so tight, biting his lip between his teeth as he tried to ground himself. When he felt you start to grind your hips down on his bulge, he knew he had to stop you before things escalated. "Okay baby, that's enough, gonna make me look like I got strangled." He huffed out a laugh. You popped your lips off his neck begrudgingly, pouting your lip out at him as the two of you stared at each other, breathing heavily. "Why do you always stop me?" You ask, holding his face in your hands.

"You know why doll." He said, raising his eyebrow at you. "But you're hard toji, and I want it." You pouted, sliding your hand down his cheek until you reached his mouth. You pulled his bottom lip down seductively, watching intently as it bounced back on his face. "Don't do this." He growled, losing his composure at your sensuality, he could feel his cock twitching in his pants.

"I can take care of it, let me just-" He started lifting you off of his lap, you assumed he was going to go to the bathroom like always and rub one out real quick, but you were not having any of that. "Nuh-uh, you're not gonna go jerk off when I'm right here." You said, making him pause his ministrations as he called you out. "You're so demanding." He said through a smile, laughing lightly when you wiggled out of his grip and sat back down on his lap, gripping his waist in your smaller hands tightly to let him know you were not going anywhere.

"Damn right." You said, giving him a too-serious look. "Please Toji, just let me help you.. have you ever taken into consideration that I get just as worked up as you when we do this kinda stuff?" You said, raising your eyebrows at him, talking down to him like he was being scolded. "I'm glad you get wet from my kisses baby, but you're not ready to take my cock yet." He said, gripping your cheeks in his big hand while his other made home on your waist once more.

"Then get me ready for it Toji." You pouted, letting him repeat the same tease on you when he pulled your bottom lip down and let it bounce back against your face. "Want me to show you what fucking me is like? Huh?" He asked, leaning his face closer to yours as he breathed against your mouth. "Please." You reached a hand down between the two of you and placed your hand over the bulge in his cock, not getting very far in your rubbing on it when he quickly snatched your wrist away.

"Don't touch that shit baby." He growled, "won't be able to touch my cock when it's inside you, right?" You weren't sure where he was going with this, but you were just happy to be getting something out of him. You nodded at his words, making him grin and nod back at you. "Yeah, thats right." He drawled. The next thing you knew, you were on your back with Toji's massive frame between your legs, your legs were pressed together and thrown over his left shoulder as he wrapped his arms snugly around them, and against his chest.

"Think you can take it? Huh, baby?" He cooed, looking down at you teasingly, waiting for your answer. "I can take it, know I can take it." You replied, and with that, he pulled his hips back before pressing them snugly against your clothed cunt and ass. Your jaw dropped open when you felt the outline of his hard cock press against you. Your breathing started picking up when he kept pulling back and humping his cock against you.

"You feel that? You feel how hard I am?" Toji asked, pulling your legs against him harder. You nodded, resting your hands on his big thighs that were perched around yours. "You really think you can take all nine inches in your little virgin cunt?" He said, pouting his lip out at you mockingly, humping his dick against you with more vigor, quickening his thrusts as he rubbed his cock right against the entrance of your clothed cunt. You stayed silent, looking up at him with your slack jaw and furrowed eyebrows as he hummed at you.

"You ready for me to fuck my load into your cunt? Fill you up over and over till you can't take anymore inside you?" You knew he had a dirty mouth, but nothing on this scale. His words were sending heat straight to your gut, just the dull rubbing against your cunt combined with his filthy words were working you up at an alarming rate.

He leaned his frame over your body, keeping your legs over his shoulders as your body bent and stretched like you didn't think it could. "You ready to be folded like this for hours, hm?" He moaned, bringing his hips back before thrusting them against you heavily, making moans of pleasure fall from your lips. "Cmere." Toji growled, playing his hands besides your head as he smashed your lips together, moaning into your mouth at the delicious friction that was being created on his cock from just rubbing against you.

"You have me dry-humping you like a fucking teenager." He pulled away to huff against your lips, making you giggle through your moans as you connected your lips once more. The two of you entangled your tongues together in a sloppy kiss, breathing heavily into the other mouths at Toji's rough pace on your cunt. This was arousing you more than you thought it would, his needy thrusts and dirty confessions he whispered against your lips were making you feel hot all over.

"mm- mm- mm-"'s could be heard emanating off the walls each time Toji thrust against you. "L-let me on top." You whined through his kisses; he groaned into your mouth at your words, quickly breaking the kiss as he let your legs fall from his shoulder and manipulated your body so you were sitting on his lap. The two of you wasted no time in setting back into the same rhythm as before, wining and groaning into each other's mouths as he bounced you on his lap while you ground down on his massive bulge.

You pulled away from the kiss, placing your hands on his chest while he sat back comfortably against the couch, looking down at your smaller frame as you got yourself off on his cock. "F-feels' good, want you inside me Tojiii~" You wined, biting your lip and keeping eve contact with him as you mimicked the motions of riding his cock on top of him. He watched with a slack jaw while you worked, looking between where the two of you were connected and your pretty face, which looked so fucked out from just a little dry humping.

"Didn't realize I was dating a fucking cock whore." He groaned, huffing out a laugh before his eyes rolled back in his head when you humped against him in a particularly mouth-watering way. You whined at his words, keeping up your ministrations when you saw the effect it had on him. "F-fuck." Toji grit through his teeth, his eyes fluttering as his orgasm creeped steadily up on him.

"Gonna cum from me dry-humping your dick Toji?" You teased, your voice breaking off with a whine when he started fucking his hips back up into you harder. Toji hadn't dry-humped anyone in a decade, he forgot how good it could feel, and he was starting to figure he might have a thing for this. He nodded at your words, his hips losing their rhythm as he fucked up agaisnt you, groans falling from his lips more frequently as he was worked up to his orgasm.

"Fuck- fuck- gonna cum mama dont stop." He groaned, gripping your waist harder for stability as you humped his clothed dick to his orgasm. His head fell back limply agasint the pillows, his jaw dropping as gasps fell freely from his lips before his orgasm washed over him. "Shiiiii-it- Fuck-" He cursed through his teeth, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish out of water as he came hard, right into his boxers.

"Yes, Toji give it to me, fill me up~" You moaned, humping him through his high as you stared down at his lap, watching a wet patch spread over his lap as his massive load soaked through his sweats. You could feel his cock pulsing underneath you each time a rope of cum shot out from his dick, making your cunt clench around nothing, wishing he was filling you up instead of his boxers.

His moans stuttered as he came down from his high, he gripped your hips hard in his hands to stop your movements while his body jerked and twitched as he caught his breath. You leaned forward and started placing kisses all over his face and neck, waiting for him to relax. He groaned when he came to, looking down at your smaller frame worshiping his neck before he spoke, "I feel fucking gross." He cursed, cringing at the feeling of how soggy his boxers felt around his cock.

You giggled, pulling away and leaning back so the both of you could stare at the mess he made between the two of you. "Can't believe I just came in my fucking pants." He sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillows once more and letting his eyelids fall shut, unwilling to admit but the feeling of embarrassment started creeping over him.

"Yeahh~ but it felt good right?" You giggled, running your hands down his pecs once more as you continued leaving little kisses all over his face and neck. He groaned at your words, wanting to agree but feeling ashamed at what he just did. "You big baby, if it makes you feel any better I'm flattered." You giggled, making him tilt his head back up to stare at you deadpan.

The air between the two of you was silent while you stared smugly at him, while he kept his expressionless face on. Suddenly Toji was tackling you down against the couch and smothering you, making you burst into a fit of giggles. "Brat." He mumbled, slotting himself between your legs and pulling your thighs over his larger ones before he sat back and admired your ruffled hair and flushed face, adorned with your sweet smile.

"You know what tho?" He said, making you tilt your head, your giggles started to die down as you waited for him to speak, loving the feeling of his large hand rubbing up and down your thighs. "You didn't cum." he started, "we can't have that, can we?." He smiled down at you mischievously, teasing his large fingers into the band of your shorts as he slowly started to drag your shorts and panties alike down your thighs--your giggles immediately ceased.

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seonghwaddict · 26 days

Text

super duper pretty — kim hongjoong

in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.

musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS

listening to. right here, chase atlantic.

masterlist.

you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.

album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.

that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.

him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.

in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.

but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.

the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.

without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.

“hello?”

hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.

“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.

you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.

“what do you want?”

“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”

you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.

still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”

"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"

you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.

“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”

“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”

your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”

“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”

“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”

“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”

“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”

“okay.”

it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.

a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.

it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”

he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.

you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?

“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”

“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.

“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”

you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”

“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”

unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”

he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.

it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.

neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”

“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”

memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.

“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.

he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.

he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.

“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.

he was always like that with you. soft.

people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.

at least, until now.

the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.

eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.

the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.

you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.

as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.

you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.

you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”

“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.

you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”

“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.

you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”

his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.

“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.

“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.

his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”

your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.

you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”

you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.

"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”

those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.

“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”

he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.

he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.

sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.

“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”

your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”

you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.

your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.

his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.

but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.

he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”

he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”

that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.

“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”

your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.

“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”

he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”

“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“

you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.

“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”

“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”

you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.

“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”

you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #atzhouse #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

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sparkvia · 2 months

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Downloaded from Pixabay.com.

#ot couch #open thread

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rookiesbookies · 5 months

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“so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honor what else was I supposed to do”

With my boys (141+Konig+Keegan)

Price

Price is not a man to bring violence into his domestic life. He just refuses to. He has the gun under the couch and the hand gun in his bedside table, and that’s all the violence at home he needs.

HOWEVER.

The night you both had gone on a nice date and decided to end the night at a pub he was just having a good time. He didn’t want to be bothered. He was having a nice time.

When he watched the guy come up behind the two of you slurring, he was already set on edge. When the man grabbed your ass? There was zero hesitation.

Punch landed square between the poor guys eyes, John took a long sip of his drink and left a $100 on the table to cover any problems and the two drinks you both had, before taking you by the hand and leaving.

The man had a thick skull and Price honestly just ignored the fact that he had clearly probably broken a bone in his hand because the head you were giving him made it all so worth it.

Soap

Surprisingly, it was not a random person he punched.

He and Gaz had gotten into a petty argument. It shouldn’t have started, really.

Apparently Gaz made some snarky comment about Soap’s girl. It was before Gaz and his girlfriend had started dating so he didn’t have a woman to put him in his place over the shitty comment.

Johnny, however, was happy to oblige.

It took both Ghost and Price to pull him off Gaz, who was luck Soap only got a few good hits in. Soap was sent home like a kid from school and John stapled a note to his shirt explaining what had happened.

What Captain John Price didn’t expect, however, was for you to reward this behavior.

Little kitten licks and fluttering kisses up and down his length, tell him how proud you were he defended you before giving him the sloppiest of his life.

He brain melted, Soap had half the mind to punch Gaz for it again next time he saw him just to see if she would reward him again.

Ghost

Oh, he had considered strangling your ex more than once. But he caught him at your doorstep when he had just gotten back from a mission.

He wasn’t Simon yet. He was still Ghost.

So when the fucker was banging on your door, he was happy he had insisted on getting you a better front door lock. He could see you running to your bedroom, probably to get the handgun he kept under the dresser.

He almost wanted to call you and tell you not to bother.

He tore the man away from the door and just went ham. It wasn’t until you returned and looked out the window to see what had happened that Simon held up the man bloody and bruised and passed out.

Simon shoved the dude in whatever car he came in before driving to the middle of nowhere and leaving an only mildly threatening note, before having you pick him up.

When you went from kissing the splits and blood from his knuckles ot undoing his belt, he was so grateful his old square body had a bench seat.

The death grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping him sane. Almost pulling over to cum in your mouth but he had pulled into yalls shared driveway before he even realized. He had probably been doing felony speeds.

He took off his mask for the first time since he got home and planted soft kisses on your face. He mumbled something about not needing to reward Ghost for his usual behaviors between pecks.

Konig

Being the big bad colonel’s sweet little wife had its perks. Walking around the base with no problems, getting to spend all day chilling in his lap, never having to be far from him.

The worst time of year was when Konig had to deal with new recruits, who were already older gentlemen but clearly weren’t raised right and who didn’t understand how things worked in his base.

So when one of the recruits was pushing you around, getting too close and touchy, Konig didn’t hesitate.

One big swing, but that wasn’t enough. Konig was going to make an example of him.

Drug him out to the front of the base and gathered all of the recruits and made a scene. He made an example.

Dude got pummeled by Konig.

You honestly didn’t need to give him head, the satisfaction of putting that man in the med bay was enough. But when the idea left your sweet lips he would never refuse.

His bloody knuckles lovingly rubbing your face and massaging your hair as you struggle to fit it in your mouth, giving him big doe eyes? Its his favorite.

Keegan

Also punched a teammate. You had been brought on base for a celebration, everyone was in all their formal uniforms and outfits.

He had stayed sober, unlike most of his teammates.

Most of them didn’t have any women of their own.

Keegan just found out why.

It was a random Sargent from a different group, clearly hadn’t let you get a word out and just kept talking. Too drunk to realize that if you were here you were probably a spouse.

Keegan just gave him a nice smack to the gut, which ended up making the guy projectile vomit in the middle of the festivity room.

Someone definitely over-served by this dude.

But the way you kissed away the littlest bits of blood from Keegan’s had since his dry knuckle had caught on one of the guys pins and tore open. Made his heart melt.

I guess it melted into his dick because he knew EXACTLY what was happening when you pulled him away and down an empty and dark hall.

Oh he loved the way your lips kissed around him, living lipstick in their wake, before leaving a nice colored ring of it around his shaft.

Oh he’d wear it too proudly. Makes jokes about never washing his dick again.

Gaz

You and Gaz were in a booth on a double date with Soap and his girl. Simple date, just chilling. Soap was making jokes about how Kyle totally had a glow up now that he’s met his girl and about how Kyle probably understands why Johnny punched him for the comment a couple months back. (See Soap’s for an explanation)

However, that story just reminded Gaz, and gave him a good idea.

He mumbled something about still needing to get back at Soap for it. Also mumbling about how his nose still isn't right and his jaw still pops

One swift punch, Kyle was back how he was sitting before like it never even happened.

However the head he got in the family bathroom for that punch being hot while Soap and his girl thought Kyle had an emergency bathroom trip while his girl was changing her pad was crazy.

He almost broke the changing table off the wall with how he was gripping it.

Truly life changing.

Almost hit Soap again when they got back to the table.

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always and requests are open.

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babyleostuff · 6 months

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seeing them cry for the first time | ot 13

❥ seungcheol

would immediately try to act as if nothing happened, he’d probably insist that something just got into his eye. “just give me a second baby, i’m okay,” he’d quietly say, tears running down his cheeks. we know that cheol tries to act tough and strong not to upset people around him, and to maintain his leader persona, but the second he feels your arms around him, cradling him to your chest, he’d burst out crying again. despite everything, cheol is a very sensitive person and he needs people to take care of him, especially when he’s that vulnerable.

❥ jeonghan

at first jeonghan would try to laugh it off, joking about it would be like a coping mechanism for him. he never tried to keep his emotions or how he was feeling from you, but there was something about crying that made him extra shy and vulnerable. “i’ll be right back, honey,” he’d say between his quiet sobs, getting up from the couch. the moment you realised he wanted to hide his tears from you, you grabbed him by his waist, your chest pressed to his back. “don’t run away, hannie. i’m here with you, it’s okay,” you murmured into his back, pressing kisses over his exposed shoulder. no words would have to be exchanged - the fact that you were there for him was enough.

❥ joshua

joshua wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it, he knew that there would come a time when he’d cry in front of you, but when it actually happened he was kind of scared how you’d react. he’d look at you with teary eyes and a frown, and you’d immediately know that something serious had happened. joshua usually preferred to be left alone when he was upset or very stressed to have some time to sort things out in his head, so seeing him so sad was truly heartbreaking for you. he wouldn’t say much, just reach his hand out to you, so you’d know that he wanted to be comforted.

❥ jun

at first jun would excuse himself before he actually started crying, saying he just needed to use the bathroom. but while he was sitting on the cold floor, tears streaming down his cheeks, he’d realise that he wanted nothing more but to be in your arms, so he’d quickly get up and just throw himself into your embrace. it wasn’t unusual for jun to hug you out of the blue, but you’d immediately know something was wrong when you’d feel his body shake from his quiet sobs. “just hold me like this, please,” he’d whisper, reaching for your hand. and you’d stay like that, your body tightly wrapped around his until he’d doze off, his face hidden in the crook of your neck.

❥ hoshi

when hoshi cried he never tried to hide it, to run away, definitely not to laugh it off - he’d immediately reach for you, and cry into your shoulder. he had realised a long time ago that you were his comfort place, his safe bubble, and you’d be the first person hoshi would search for when he was upset. the first time it happened wasn’t any different, he was so stressed about their new comeback that instead of going home he rushed straight to your apartment and just threw himself into your arms.

❥ wonwoo

wonwoo would try to do everything not to cry in front of you in the first place, he’d sit there with red eyes and shaky hands, but he swore he’d never cry in front of you. but seeing you, worry and fear written all over your face, the knowledge that you cared so much about him that you were on the verge of tears yourself, would make wonwoo drop the “cold” persona, and just break down. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry,” he’d sob into your shoulder, gripping your hand tightly in his. “never apologise for crying, wonwoo. and thank you for being so vulnerable with me, for trusting me,” that’s what he’d want to hear after.

❥ woozi

similarly to wonwoo, would do everything not to cry in front of you - woozi was never big on displaying his emotions, especially those vulnerable ones, but everyone has a breaking point, even our strong woozi. one time he’d just break down in sobs and tears right in front of you, he’d crumble into your arms, holding onto you for dear life. he wouldn’t try to say anything, and he wouldn’t want for you to say anything either, he’d just want to be held tightly, without judgement.

❥ dk

he’d just cry harder seeing your worried expression. dk was never good at keeping his emotions and how he felt from you, he was an open book, but that didn’t mean he let you see this side of him often. he never meant to make you upset because he was feeling down, all he wanted was to make you laugh and smile, so the first time he cried in front of you was extra emotional for him. he never realised that you cared so deeply for him. “i love you,” he’d quietly murmur over and over again, his voice muffled by your neck, as you were gently running your hand through his hair to calm him down.

❥ mingyu

would try to reassure you that he’s okay, and that you don’t have to worry. mingyu is your personal fluffball of energy and positivity, he always hides it when he’s feeling down not to upset or worry you, because your happiness is number one priority to him. “it’s okay baby, i’m fine,” would be the first thing he’d say, but from his shaky voice and trembling hands, you’d know that he was struggling a lot more than he’d like to admit. the second you hug him he just breaks and lets the tears fall freely.

(mingyu crying is something so truly heartbreaking)

❥ minghao

minghao would smile through his tears and assure you that he is fine, that you shouldn’t worry. he’d wipe away the tears from his cheeks like it was nothing. before, he never saw crying as a weakness, but when it happened for the first time in front of you, he thought that maybe you’d think he was weak, and all he ever wanted was to be the tough guy that could always protect you. without saying anything, you’d just wrap your arms around his waist, letting him cry into your shoulder. “i love you, hao. no matter what.”

❥ seungkwan

seungkwan would be a mix of dk and minghao - he wouldn’t be good at keeping his emotions from you, but at the same time, he’d sometimes hide them behind a mask of humour and sarcasm to not show the weaker side of him. seungkwan would try really hard not to cry in front of you, at first he’d push your arms away and insist that he was fine, but when you were finally able to wrap your arms tightly around his waist to keep him in place, seungkwan would start crying harder and harder, until his cheeks were stained form dried out tears.

❥ vernon

vernon would just stand in the middle of the living room, tears falling down his cheeks, his body shaking from the tiny sobs. he never thought about how crying in front of you would make him feel like, but he quickly realised that he’d do anything to be hugged by you, to be protected from the cruel world. you’d be speechless at first, seeing him so upset and heartbroken, and you’d quickly rush over to him and cradle his face in your hands. “c-can you just hold me for a while?” at that moment vernon realised that you were his comfort place.

❥ chan

he’d just crumble and fall into your embrace, holding onto you for dear life. “i can’t do this anymore, i’m so tired”. chan might be one of the most mature members, but being so strong and independent is sometimes too exhausting, and he just wants to be taken care of too. might need some reassurance after that crying doesn’t make him less of a man, that it doesn’t make him weak - that he doesn’t need to be so tough all of the time. would love to be cuddled too, for once being the small spoon, hiding in the crook of your neck, as your arm held him close to your body.

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svtswhorehouse · 4 days

Text

OT 13 : drunk or high sex

Seungcheol : drunk sex. oh. he gets rough, but like, a good kinda rough. lowkey, gets possessive and loves marking you. make sure you check your neck before you go into work the next morning cause he will leave hickeys !!! likes making sure everyone knows who you belong to and will admit to it, he has no shame.

Jeonghan : high sex. you’re telling me you wouldn’t want to make out with this man when he’s on cloud nine ? i mean, he already has “fuck me” eyes like come on. A TEASE. will tell you to wait when you start to whine cause he’s taking his sweet time. TONGUE DOES WONDERS. your eyes will never not be rolled into the back of your head. lowkey likes it when you pull his hair.

Joshua : neither, but not opposed to trying it out. prefers to be completely present and in the moment. will try it out a few times, kind of has the “if it happens, it happens” mindset. will never say no to you though. if anything it happens more when y’all are tipsy than when y’all are drunk.

Junhui : high sex. will probably make a weird joke mid-fuck and have you being like ????? wtf. but it’s okay cause it’s jun and he’ll have you seeing stars regardless. might have to take a break and switch positions cause weed makes him sleepy.

Hoshi : hear me out, high. thought he was too giggly and accident prone when drunk and didn’t wanna kill the vibe. A MUNCH !!!! like you know how people get the muchies when they’re high ? yeah, hoshi just goes down on you whenever he gets them. would be on a mission to make you squirt.

Wonwoo : high sex. honestly, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s high, his composure is insane. lazy sex, but he’ll still do all the work because there’s no way he’s gonna let his princess do any. tbh, really really good at rolling and will hold it up to your lips making direct eye contact while you take a hit.

Woozi : neither. man barely even drinks, what makes you think he lights up ? doesn’t need to be under the influence of anything to get you off and he can prove it to you too.

Dokyeom : drunk sex. giggly !!! all sunshine and smiles. will probably make dirty jokes just for fun, but it’s okay cause at least he makes you feel good. he’ll def pamper you with a bunch of kisses before, after, and during the act. king of aftercare when drunk, even if he knocks over everything in his way by accident but y’all can just deal with that in the morning.

Mingyu : BOTH. would not be opposed to getting cross faded. will take a hit and blow it straight into your mouth to initiate a makeout sesh. passionate and rough about everything !! will most likely end up fucking on every surface, from the couch to the kitchen counter — i would make sure you wipe that off if I were you. after, will either make you food or do a late night convenience store run with you.

Minghao : high sex. slow, sensual, and passionate. honestly might last hours just cause you two get carried away. y’all spend like an hour alone just making out until your lips are all puffy and red. not a talker when high, but he does like to make a lot of eye contact.

Seungkwan : drunk sex. tried it while high once and felt like he wasn’t productive enough ???? for some reason he’s always go, go, go. feels like he can do a lot more and please you better when drunk. a cutie pie, always making sure you’re alright at all times. will probably make you get off on his thigh and you’re not opposed cause have you seen his quads ?????

Vernon : HIGH FOR SURE. man is definitely a stoner in another life. chill. so chill, that you would have to initiate something and he’ll just go along with whatever makes you happy. might whine, but if you hear it, pretend you didn’t. also, has worn his red tinted glasses a few times during the deed for some reason ???? (ifykyk)

Dino : drunk. honestly probably got drunk cause he was trying to calm his nerves. would want to initiate it, but in the end he probably took so long that you did. his biggest fantasies come out when drunk and would either ask to try titty fucking or you’d end up sixty-nining.

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sugawarassoulmate · 9 months

Text

something about sugawara just screams free use to me 🥴

omg it feels so long since i've used these pictures lmao

word count: 685

cw: fem!reader, dub-con, consent implied, free use, public sex, somnophilia, oral (f receiving), minors dni

he just likes having you whenever and wherever he wants. it's hard to tell him no when he makes you feel so good.

you could be talking on the phone with a friend and here comes suga settling himself between your legs. rolling your eyes, you already know what's on his mind and try to focus on the conversation when you feel him take off your shorts and underwear to eat you out.

it's hard to maintain focus when he's sucking your clit like he needs it to survive but he'll scold you for hanging up on your friend so rudely.

but he won't stop until you're whining on the phone or you end the call and buck into his mouth to get yourself off. he has a habit of torturing you that way.

at least that's better than the time he walked into the dressing room where you were trying on clothes.

"kou—" you whispered-yelled but it didn't stop suga from lifting up your skirt and pushing your panties aside.

"you looked so pretty showing me all your outfits," he said, stroking his cock before sinking into the warmth of your cunt. "you'll let me play with you a little bit, yeah?"

he doesn't give you much time to think before he starts fucking you right there in the fitting room.

suga covers your mouth so you can't protest - or cry out from the pleasure and alert the closest employee.

"we should keep this dress, baby," he says sweetly, tugging at the top to make your breasts spill out. "it fits you so well. like a glove."

he hits that spot that turns your legs into jelly and, even with his hand on your mouth, a shrill cry escapes you.

suga slows down his thrust, never fully stopping, when he hears the quiet sounds of footsteps outside the door. "is everything alright?" the associate asks with a knock.

"we're fine! she just got her hair stuck in a zipper," he said confidently. even behind a door, he can still charm anyone he meets.

"ok, if you need any help, i'll be around!" the employee says before walking away.

you're not sure if it's the thrill of being caught or your embarrassment that eggs suga on but that brief interaction just makes him fuck you harder.

he's at his most devious when he catches you sleeping on the couch, a paused youtube video that has long since been forgotten on the tv.

this happens a lot. you'll take naps during the day when you're too tired from cooking, cleaning, or doing your own work while you wait for sugawara to come home.

when suga catches you in these moments, his favorite thing to do is position you on your back and pull your shorts down.

he never tries to be discreet - suga enjoys waking you up with his cock. he loves seeing your sweet face contort in pleasure even in slumber.

"feels good doesn't it baby," he whispers into your skin, fucking you just as hard and deep as he would if you were conscious. "making me happy even when you're sleepy, i'm so lucky."

suga doesn't just stop at fucking you, he's rubbing his fingers against your clit and using his free hand to pull your top down to suck at your tits.

he won't stop until you've woken up, which usually happens when you're about to cum. you'll start breathing heavily and paw at suga's arms in a desperate attempt to grasp onto something.

"k-kou? kou—oh god," you whine, thighs trapping suga as pleasure racks through your still sleepy body.

you came around him, body shaking the entire time and suga could live off of it. he loves having you as his plaything that he can dump his cum into over and over again.

suga doesn't bother cleaning you up after both of you come. usually, he would but instead, he pulls your panties back on and kisses you.

"get some rest, babe. gonna fuck you again in an hour," he says and suga has always been a man of his word.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #sugawara smut #sugawara koushi smut #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #koushi sugawara smut #koshi sugawara smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #🍑#🍑suga

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 4 months

Text

Orbiting: pt.3°

: pt.1° | pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.8k idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, TONS of smut, use of cock ring]

"Jungkook, you can't be serious," you're limping around your home following the cause of your headache.

"I am," he deadpans. He pushes your throw pillows on one side of the couch and plops himself in it. "Back to your room, Y/N. Or do you need me to tuck you in?" he teases with a grin.

Tired from the day and your ankle still throbbing with pain, you huff and retreat to your room. You don't bother closing your door.

"You coming?" You call.

A second passes. Then another. He didn't fall asleep already, did he?

A thud is heard from your living room. Then, Jungkook appears in your doorway.

Shirtless. You gulp, trying not to salivate. He knows he looks good; he doesn't need the boost.

"You're insatiable," he chastises, but at the same time, he's walking closer to you. "But you need to rest, babe." His hands softly rub your head, then tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not that. It's cold outside," you roll your eyes. "Can't have you getting sick, at least not until your game tomorrow. Your team needs their star player," you jest.

Jungkook only giggles, already claiming his side of your bed. The side that's always been his. Even before this whole friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook always slept on the right side of your bed during sleepovers or when he needed to crash the night after a long practice.

You lived a bit closer to the rink—that was his excuse to the guys on his team when they teased him. Also, his mom agreed that it wasn't safe for him to be driving late at night, especially when he was already tired. Sure, she didn't know he slept in your room, but it was all 'platonic' then. The important thing was he was getting good rest. It really wasn't because of your warmth beside him in bed and that he found comfort in seeing you after an exhausting day that made him sleep better. Or so he thinks.

It's a tug-of-war when it comes to him admitting how he feels on certain moments.

"Hey, get your head out of the gutter, Jeon," you mimic his words earlier.

With a pout but round eyes filled with mischief, Jungkook retaliates with tickles. In a fit of laughter, you try to get him to stop, "Gguk.. my fo—ot."

"Oh, shit," he raises his hand to stop. "Sorry, babe."

Catching your breath, you throw him a glare, "You're lucky I can't tackle you." Jungkook responds with by nuzzling his head in your neck and littering pecks on your neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbles between kisses.

You let out a chortle, "You're the one wreaking havoc on my bed, Jeon."

He hums coyly in reply.

"Hey," you nudge his head on your shoulder,"Thank you."

Jungkook tilts his head and and kisses your lips. "Always," his voice soft, sleep slowly penetrating him. You let a minute pass until his breathing evens out, and then, slowly and very carefully, you press your lips to his forehead.

"Night, Gguk," you whispered.

You were a morning person. And from the moment you wake up at 6 A.M, you follow your routine to a T.

The alarm goes off for the second time and the clock already reads 6:13 A.M. Your hands struggle to reach your phone on the bedside table and it doesn't help that Jungkook keeps pulling your body further down the bed. Your hips are pinned with his tattooed hands, back arched from pleasure, and legs dangle on the edge of the bed.

Kneeled at the foot of your bed, Jungkook pushes his face deeper between your thighs. His warm tongue switching between sucking and flicking your clit. The lewd sounds of wet pleasure and your breathless moans echoes around your room, drowning the blaring alarm.

You plead for more. You want more. You need more. More pleasure, more of Jungkook. So, you grab his head and push him towards your sex while you buck your hips. Jungkook only groans in response. You can feel your orgasm nearing, but right before you unravel, he pulls away.

"Fucking insatiable." Jungkook licks his lips, tongue catching every drop of you, "And I love it." He stands, his hard cock springing and leaking, then reaches for something in your bottom drawer. But before his hand could re-emerge from the box, you already know what to expect.

Both of your breathing picks up, eyes meeting each other. You were the first to break away. Your eyes traveling down to where his hands are—one shamelessly pumps his dick and the other holds a vibrating cock ring.

With your good foot, you push yourself back up to the bed. "Good girl," Jungkook smirks.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?" You taunt.

"Nah, I plan to wreck you, babe."

Cock ring in place around his dick, Jungkook aligns himself to your cunt. He's only a tip in and you can already feel the vibrations. Jungkook feels good, too. His brows furrowed, mouth hang open and quiet moans spill.

Truly insatiable and impatient, you pull Jungkook by his arms, "Wreck me. I want all of you, Jungkook."

The sounds your mouth and pussy make and the smell of sex permeating the air intensifies the pleasure Jungkook feels. He would love to start every day like now—buried inside you, your pussy clenching and sucking him back in every time he pulls out. Your whines grow pitchier every second, and Jungkook knows you're close. But he wants to prolong this moment, despite his cock throbs with want to release. So, he plunges deep into your pussy and stills. The cock ring still vibrates around his cock and sits perfectly in line with your clit.

Tears gather at your eyes and while you're always pretty, this look you have when you're being fucked dumb has to be one of Jungkook's favorites.

"Wanna cum," you plead. You're at each other's mercy, but it's Jungkook who drives you to orgasm—coming undone and moaning in unison.

The moment passes, and you both hiss at sensitivity from the vibrating cock ring.

"Wear my jersey to tonight's game, yeah?"

Loud sirens go off as the box opens, and the players run to the ice.

Your eyes are quick to scan the huddle, looking for the man with the 97 print on his jersey.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms. "Welcome to the beginning of the hockey season. Now, Neil, who do you think will be our star player this season?"

"Easy question, Jack. I would place my bets on Jeon Jungkook. This kid is dubbed the golden maknae of their team and to outsiders."

You agree. Jungkook truly excels in everything he does. And while it may seem as if things come easy for him to strangers and mere acquaintances, no one sees the early mornings and long hours of work he put in to be the best.

"What a phenom. I've heard at least 3 NHL clubs would love to have him on their roster. Truly an incredible young athlete. And if you haven't seen him before, you're in for a real treat."

Goal after goal has been made within the past 50 minutes. On the ice, Jungkook glances at the bright scoreboard. It's neck and neck, and the crowd chaotically shouts. He hears their team name louder, he thinks. And he can't help but feel driven at the thought that one of those loud cheers of his name is from you in the stands.

"It's your shot, Jeon," his teammate shouts as they pass around the puck. Jungkook is terrible at multitasking, but as he dodges the opposing team trying to get the puck, he quickly peeks at the side of the bleachers where he knows you always sit. It's a brief moment, but he sees you—hair tied with green ribbons, their team color, and you're wearing his old jersey. He was right, too. You were screaming his name.

He smirks. Speeds up, and the rest happens in quick succession—Jungkook shifts his hockey stick to take the puck, glides it to the center, and makes a goal.

The cheers grow louder. Despite remaining seated among the jumping crowd, Jungkook was quick to find you again, and you made eye contact. He smiles and you blow him a kiss back.

Still high on adrenaline, Jungkook slams his hips behind you. His sulky mood earlier from not being able to fuck you in the showers turned a 180 because he's reminded how much he prefers this view, anyway. His hands pull at your braid while you're fucking yourself back into him.

A strangled call of his name leaves your mouth. He doesn't like that you're holding back your moans. Slipping his cock out of you, he holds your leg delicately and flips you within the tight space of his car, knocking the breath out of you.

Above you, Jungkook's abs glisten with sweat, and his tip slick with your arousal and his. You sit up, wincing from the discomfort from your foot, and pull him for a kiss.

He loves it when you get this eager and hungry for a kiss. It has him fucked. Not only does it make him rock hard but it has his heart constricting, too. It doesn't help that no one else has made a mess of him like this. And he’s not just talking about the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure he gets every time you have sex.

Years ago, he thought he made peace with the fact that all you could ever be was best friends. But ever since your arrangement, his desire for you grew. He didn't even think it was possible, but here he is a year later. His arm clung to your waist, laying you on his backseat cushion. Jungkook continues to thrust into you. He picks up his pace, and his eyes are glued to your juggling tits before he bends over, pushing his cock deeper into you, and attaches his mouth to play with your right nipple.

As he always does each time you fuck, he makes sure your pleasure comes first. If he can't be outright with his feelings, Jungkook secretly hopes that the way he fucks you—putting you first and taking care of you during and after sex, conveys his feelings and intention. And with every kiss you pull him in for, the unspoken words at the tip of his tongue would smooth over yours.

He would never deny that the attraction towards you has always been there, but he's not shouting it from the mountains either.

At least, not yet.

Plus, he thinks that if you really wanted more from your no-strings-attached arrangement, you would have said so. And he isn't that stupid to be the one who will bring it up, all because his heart and his dick is in-sync. He'll wait it out, he decides. Whether it's for his feelings to subside or for you to feel the same and beat him to confessing, you've always been braver of the two of you, anyway.

He'll wait.

For now, he's willing to give parts of himself that you want to take.

Jungkook's fingers squeeze in between your bodies, and it reaches your clit. Two fingers aggressively rub the hood of your clit while his thumb softly flicks at the nub. In a matter of seconds, you squirt. And Jungkook can't wait to drive you home and do it all over again.

>> Page 4

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #bts imagines #bts smut #fwb au #fwb couple #jungkook #bts jungkook

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sumeruin · 3 months

Text

bad idea, right?

♫♪: pairing: toxic ex! scara x afab! reader (modern but still in universe au)

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, kind of dubcon but reader is very obviously into it, slapping, spitting, bondage, degradation, slight humiliation, toxic relationships, pet names, fingering, female anatomy but no pronouns or gendered terms used, i think that’s it but if i missed any please let me know!!

♫♪: a/n: originally meant to post this like. weeks ago lmao sorry <3

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

fuck. you don’t know why you keep doing this, if you’re being completely honest. he’s bad for you. so, horribly, unbelievably bad for you. and yet, as he sits on your couch, leaning back and propping his feet up on your coffee table like he owns the place, you don’t want to kick him out. all you wanna do is slap that stupid smirk off his face and let him fuck every single thought out of your mind.

his voice breaks you from your thoughts. “are you planning on saying anything, or am i supposed to just stare at you?” his eyes linger on your waist, following the curves of your body and leaving you feeling much too exposed for your liking.

you cross your arms over your chest defenseivly, returning his smug stare with a glare of your own. “why are you here? i thought i made it clear last time that i never wanted to see your face again.” unless it’s in between my legs, your brain adds silently, and you desperately try to shoo those thoughts away. if you start thinking about how good he is in bed, you’ll never be able to make him leave.

he clearly notices your internal struggle, raising an eyebrow and letting out a laugh that’s only slightly mocking. his condescending gaze makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. how does he always manage to make you feel humiliated when he’s the one who keeps crawling back? “you did, but we both know that’s not true. i bet if i looked between your legs right now you’re wet just from looking at me. you always were into the weirdest things. you found another guy willing to slap you around yet?”

your face burns at the reminder of the things you’ve asked him to do, all of them depraved and perverted in nature. from the times you’ve begged him to spit on you, to the times you’ve placed his hand on your throat and silently urged him to apply pressure while he was fucking you. it’s clear he enjoys your humiliation, a fact that only makes you more humiliated and only sends yet another pang of heat in between your legs.

“th-that’s none of your business, *scaramouche*. just- what do you want?” he flinches ever so slightly at the venomous way you say his name, and that fact that you’re calling him that at all. you never call him that, it’s always “kuni” or “scara” or some random pet name. never “scaramouche”.

after a few painfully long moments of contemplative silence, he slowly stands up and walks towards you, and you can’t help the way you reflexively lean into his touch when he grabs your chin. he chooses not to answer your question, simply tilting your head to face his as he speaks, tapping your cheek with two of his fingers. “open.”

despite your best judgment, you obey, silently opening your mouth and gazing up at him in confusion.

he simply admires the sight for a moment, then, without any kind of warning, he spits directly into your open mouth. his grip tightens on your cheeks so you can’t close your lips, and he smirks to himself as you grimace at the feeling. “you done being a bitch yet? or am i going to have to fuck it out of you?”

you glare, though he only laughs in your face at your attempt at intimidation. “you look pathetic, trying to intimidate me while my spit is sitting on your tongue and your drooling all over me like a dog. is that what you are? my pathetic, stupid little mutt? maybe i should put a leash on you. then you wouldn’t think you could leave me.”

he lets go of your cheeks, though he gives you a threatening look that promises consequences if you try to do anything other than swallow. you do, sending him another barely threatening glare as your voice comes out. “fuck off. ‘m not yours anymore.”

scara only gives you a mocking smile at your words, gripping your wrist and dragging you over to the couch before practically throwing you on the cushions. you’re suddenly thankful for that throw pillow phase you went through a few years ago. maybe celestia did have a plan besides making you waste your money.

he hovers over you, his eyes furious and his mocking smile gone, seemingly having decided to drop the faux nice facade and embrace the dominance he holds over you. his hand curls around your neck, not tight enough to choke you yet, just enough to cut off a little bit of oxygen and fill your brain with that fuzzy, soft haze. “fine. you wanna be like that, huh? i can deal with a brat.”

he yanks your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly tossing them to a random corner of the living room before working on your shirt. he doesn’t even bother trying to take that off the right way, he simply rips the fabric down the middle and exposes your perfect tits, which he then decides to start massaging with his left hand. with his right, he takes his belt off and restrains your hands behind your back. you can’t control the moan that falls from your lips as your back arches into his touch, and you’re only a little ashamed of how desperately needy your voice sounds. “fuck, scara-!”

he grins in response, his eyes trailing from your exposed cunt to your eyes as he responds, his free hand trailing down to rub little circles against your clit. “yeah? i’m right here, doll. not going anywhere.”

scara relishes the way you jolt under his touch, body shaking as whines and mewls fall from your lips. fuck, it’s been so long. you hadn’t realized how deprived you’d been until someone was finally playing with your pussy. no one’s ever as good as scara, not since you slept with him the first time. he knows very well how much he’s ruined any other guy for you, how he’s the only one who can make you cum this hard. and he loves it.

he deems you wet enough after a few more moments of him rubbing your clit, and then he slides two of his fingers in your twitching cunt, not even bothering to take off his rings beforehand. not that you’re complaining, you both know how much you love the feeling of the metal rubbing against your insides. he notices the way you start to drift away, and lands a heavy slap to your cheek, snapping you out of the pleasure induced trace he put you in with a predatory grin. “are you trying to hide from me? you should know better.”

you can only whine in response, trying to blabber out a coherent response while on the verge of cumming your brains out all over your ex boyfriend’s fingers is much harder than it looks. all you manage is another little mewl, gazing up at him with teary eyes as you whine out the words. “not- not tryin’ to hide, kuni… p-please, need more- need- need to cum, please let me cum!”

scara only gives you another grin, clearly pleased with your performance, and he slips another finger inside you, scissoring them and making you cry out as your back arches and your legs twitch from where they’re resting on either side of his body. your moans get less coherent, but he doesn’t seem to mind. he just pulls his fingers out of your pussy and holds eye contact while licking them clean, then pulls his pants down just far enough to take his cock out. he slaps it against your clit a few times, and pats your, quickly reddening, cheek condescendingly as he speaks. “i don’t think you’ve done anything to deserve getting fucked.”

his soft pats switch to a harsh grip on your chin abruptly, and he forces your face to make eye contact with him while he continues. “why don’t you convince me, hm? tell me how sorry you are for pretending you wanted to leave me, how much you missed me. then i’ll consider it.”

scara’s grin is wicked now, staring deeply into your fucked out eyes as your face scrunches up and you start to sniffle at his denials. he’s the one who started this, why is he making you seem like the desperate one? you wouldn’t be this desperate if he had just kept his stupid hands to himself. still, though, your cunt aches from the overwhelming emptiness, little drops of slick drooling out and making a mess of your favorite blanket.

so, you obey like always, the words flowing from your lips with an ease that makes it seem like something you’ve always known, a deep rooted fact that you can’t possibly deny as you stare up at him through thick lashes with glossy eyes. “p-please, kuni, need you so bad, it hurts! i- i was wrong, wasn’t- wasn’t thinking… missed you so much, please!”

scara smiles, baring his teeth in a way that you distantly know should terrify you, but as he thrusts deeply inside you, filling you up so well with one deep stroke, you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

you aren’t sure you ever did.

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ angel’s creations ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x reader smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scara x y/n #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade.

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines.

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.”

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.”

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin.

Remus isn’t smiling.

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking.

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.”

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression.

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.”

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.”

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.”

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears.

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to chase soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks.

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.”

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.”

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?”

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.”

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.

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