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#please let me know if I should tag differently never had to tag it before
acourtoffeyandfables · 8 months
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oh OKAY. So that's why there's an hour and a half body horror warning
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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tell me you don't want me
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.
however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.
for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.
he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.
"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.
he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."
and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."
after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.
you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.
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gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).
"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"
he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."
"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.
he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."
after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.
you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.
"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.
"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."
"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."
you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.
"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.
"not yet."
"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"
"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"
he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"
you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."
"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"
"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"
"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"
his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.
once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.
"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.
you nod eagerly. "yes."
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the two of you have never fought before.
well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.
that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.
"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.
the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"
after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.
rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.
why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?
"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"
because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.
he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.
he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.
"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."
"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."
your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.
"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.
his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.
he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"
you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.
one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.
his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.
"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."
and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.
his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.
"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.
your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.
his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."
your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."
"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.
you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.
he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.
his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.
gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
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saltburnedme · 5 months
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My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!
Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3520
Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.
Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall
Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕
Part 2
21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.
You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.
Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.
The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.
‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.
‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.
‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.
‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.
Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.
You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.
Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.
Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.
‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.
2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.
The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.
‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.
‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.
‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.
‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.
‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.
‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.
‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.
‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.
‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.
He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.
‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.
It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.
You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?
Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.
These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.
‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.
His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.
‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.
Part 2
Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359
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cheriladycl01 · 26 days
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Could you do SMAU for Toto Wolff with wife fashion designer!reader? He always goes to her events even though he's busy and she vice versa. Bonus : appearance by their son, Jack Wolff. Just something fluff and romantic. Add something else to it if you want to. Thanks!! :))
Dolce and Gabana vs Wolff vs Versace - Toto Wolff x FashionDesignerWife! Reader
Plot: It's coming to the annual Met Gala and you've got a list of celebrities you are set to dress in your brand, however there's one celebrity your all fighting for. Things are getting busy with that and being not even halfway through the F1 season!
Credit to 44lh for the GIF
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"Baby? Can you ask Lewis round for dinner!" you call and he comes trotting round the stairs your son in his arms.
“Mumma” your son cries opening his arms up for you to take him and you frown not being able to hold him anymore so you walk over to the sofa so he can lay down with you.
“Hello baby” you grin nuzzling his nose with yours making him burst out laughing and hold both sides of your cheeks.
“So, Lewis for dinner?” You grin.
“Yes let me message him darling” he says pulling you in for a kiss before tapping away at his phone.
iMessage:
Toto: Hello Lewis, Y/N wants you to come over for dinner. I suspect it’s to ask you about the Met Gala.
Lewis: Ah, yes when should I come over?
Toto: Anytime that pleases you!
“Lewis!” You squeal in excitement as he walks through the door to your home. You pull him in for a hug. You were currently very pregnant with yours and Totos second child, only a few weeks away from your due date. But you never stopped working as, to you it wasn’t really work, it was a hobby that you got payed very kindly to do.
“Hello beautiful” Lewis smiles kissing your cheek before looking you over.
“God look how big she’s getting!” He smiles looking at your stomach making you smile at hold it happily.
“She’s been kicking a lot, she’s ready to come out and meet her uncle” you grin elbowing him a little before your son comes running in.
“LEW LEW” he screams wrapping himself around his uncles leg. Lewis laughs before picking him up.
“So, will you let me style you for the met gala?” You ask, and he laughs a little.
“Mmm I’ve already had a few people reach out to me…” he says cheekily and you gasp in mock horror.
“WHO! Tell me now!” You demand and he laughs.
“Dolce and Gabana and Donatella Versace” he admits and you gasp even more.
“Oh Lord, I can’t fight for you when I’m pregnant” you sigh knowing it would be hard work considering that Lewis had a brand deal with Dolce and Gabana.
“Y/N, chill i was always going to go with you anyway. I trust no one more than i trust you” he grins and you pull him into a bigger hug, regardless of the struggle.
“I promise your going to look amazing!” You grin and he nods knowing you’d keep that up!
y/user
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Liked by themetgalaofficial zendaya and others
y/user: preparing for the met gala. Such an exciting theme for 2024! Got some of my faves on board already…
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fan1: she’s tagged Lewis, does that mean he’s attending and she’s styling him?
-> fan2: I’m sure of it! She’s married to his team principle so she has those connections!
toto.wolff: I’m so proud of everything you’ve done this year!
-> y/user: thank you my love!
fan3: shes such an icon, everyone and their mum is wearing her right now
lewishamilton: I’m excited to work with you again!
You’d worked hard for the last few months, after you’d given birth you got straight to working on your new summer line of clothing which you decided on two different themes.
You’d been a little more stressed, trying to keep up with work while looking after both the kids. But it was getting too much with Toto often away. You’d asked him many times to come home and help but he was so busy with Mercedes and how rubbish their car was this year.
It took a whole breakdown of you sobbing to Lewis on the phone saying you were thinking you’d have to stop out of the Met Gala because of the stress to get Toto’s attention.
He came home straight away, pulling you into a hug and giving you the time off you needed. You spent time at a spa, relaxing and spending evenings with your husband which you felt like you hadn’t done for months now.
Of course you didn’t end up dropping out of the Gala, and you’d turned down all the rumours that you were. The rumours being that Versase and Dolce and Gabana were going to take on all your celebrity clients.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you more” Toto sighs and he cuddles into you and kisses all over your face and down your jaw and onto your neck.
“It’s okay, I love you so much baby” you sigh into him and the feeling of him being present.
y/userfanpage
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y/userfanpage: some of Y/N Y/L/N most iconic met gala styles. I saw a thread that was similar on Twitter and thought I’d share my opinion!
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fan1: she is the icon, she is the moment
fan2: we gonna get loads of cool stuff this year, I can feel it!
“Can I have some design input” Toto says as he feeds your son while you feed your daughter.
“What do you mean design input?” You ask suspiciously.
Every time that he’d asked for this it had somehow been a ploy to incorpórate the Mercedes logo into something.
“Well I was thinking if you were styling Lewis you could …” he starts but you immediately shake your head and glare.
“No, no toto I - im not putting a Mercedes Logo on Lewis suit!” You cry with a laugh looking at him.
But Toto knew he had a few months to convince you.
iMessage
Lewis: Is Mercedes plan a go?
Toto: I’m working in it, I’ll get her to cave in soon.
Lewis: it’s gotta look slick okay?
y/user
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y/user: I loved this years theme! Made some beautiful pieces on some beautiful people!
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lewishamilton: thank you for putting the merc symbols on the white lace, it made myself and toto very happy! ❤️
-> y/user: it took lots of convincing but I’m happy with the results! You looked fab Lewis!
fan1: y/n slayed
zendaya: my beauty, it will never get old getting styled by you - a true legend 🫶🏼❤️
-> y/user: STOP! You rocked it! 🍒
You walked along the red carpet Toto on your arm as you smiled for the cameras.
“Y/N who are you wearing tonight?” One of the paps cheekily calls making you grin in their direction as they snap a picture.
“Myself of course!” You shot back with a massive smile on your face that had Toto’s heart soaring. It was a rare day in which you and Toto were free of the little monsters you guys called your children and you were both lapping up the time with one another.
“Looking fabulous Y/N” another shouts and you are walking down the carpet, greeting everyone who you had dressed before you meet up with Lewis.
“Hello” you smile and he pulls you into a hug.
“Looking radiant as ever” he says spinning you round making you chuckle. Lewis was quite literally a part of yours and Toto’s family at this point and so you always were acting like this.
“Now it’s time to face the crowd!” You smile before entering in for a night at the mets.
y/user
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y/user: never felt so close to my family than designing this one of a kind suit for my husband… and having my dress represent me as a person. What a wonderful night!
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fan1: the fact she literally made his a suit to wear … I’m crying 😢
fan2: they are my fav couple fr
toto.wolff: it was an honour to wear you my love ❤️
-> y/user: I love you so much! ❤️
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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three times hyunjin wanted to kiss you plus the one time he finally did | h.h.j
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pairing... bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader tags... best friends to lovers, "unrequited" love, fluff, 3+1 prompt
hyunjin really, really wants to kiss you. but he can't, because that's not what best friends do.
wc... 1.4k words a/n... was supposed to have class today but there was a really bad storm so i whipped this up during my newfound free time <3 this is longer than i planned it to be tbh
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° ONE
Hyunjin was bored to death. He had done nothing all day except use his phone, watch tv, use his phone, pretend to work on his laptop, and use his phone. Now, here he was, lounging on his couch, tapping away on his phone and looking for food to order.
He contemplated texting you, his best friend, but decided against it, thinking you were probably busy.
Right as he was about to pay for his food, Hyunjin's phone buzzed and a notification popped up. his eyes lit up, realizing it was a message from you.
y/n <3: hyun! y/n <3: are you busy?
Typing as if his life depended on it, Hyunjin quickly replied.
hyunjinnie: nah hyunjinnie: i was about to order dinner tho y/n <3: do you want mcdonald's? was thinking i could pick u up and we can get drive-thru
Ah, times like this, Hyunjin really just wanted to give you a big fat kiss. You were always spoiling him, after all.
hyunjinnie: YES PLEASE!!!! hyunjinnie: maybe we could watch a movie after too hyunjinnie: i mean, only if you want
He was nervous. He's invited you over many times before, but not since he realized that he was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with you.
y/n <3: definitely!!! sounds like a plan <3 i'll be there in 15
And just like that, Hyunjin's smiling like an idiot. Words can't explain how excited he was to see your face, to smell your perfume, and to hear your voice. And if his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, that was his business and his alone.
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° TWO
Fifteen minutes had never felt longer. Hyunjin was anxiously waiting for you to arrive, eyes darting between his phone and the clock on the wall. Were you purposely driving slow to make him crazy?
As if on cue, you knocked on his front door, making him jump up off the couch in excitement. He slid his phone into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and walked over to the entrance of his apartment.
When he opened the door, you were greeted with a huge smile and a big, warm hug.
"Hi! i missed you," Hyunjin said, though it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in your hair. You giggled at his affection and replied, "We just saw each other last week!"
"I know, I still missed you, though." Smiling sheepishly, he let go of you and closed the door to his apartment. He took your hand and pulled you towards the elevator. "Come on. I'm starving."
×
After a long wait at McDonald's, you finally paid and got your food. Pulling out of the drive-thru, you began your drive back to Hyunjin's house.
"No way, I've been scammed!" Hyunjin gasps dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead and slumping in his seat. "They only gave me five nuggets when i ordered six. I'm legally obligated to one more!!!"
"What? No way." you quickly peeked inside the box Hyunjin was holding, seeing that there were, in fact, only five nuggets. "Alright, we're going back there."
Surprised, Hyunjin sat up and stared at you. "Wait, huh? No, Y/n- I was just kidding. It's just one nugget difference. It isn't a big deal, let's just go home."
"Don't be crazy, Hyun. you paid for six nuggets, and you're getting those six nuggets." The look on your face was one of pure determination. Your brows were furrowed, your eyes focused on the road, and your lips—god, your lips—looked so pretty and soft. 'Perhaps,' Hyunjin thought, 'I should repay Y/n for all the trouble with a kiss.'
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° THREE
Hyunjin's heart was beating a mile a minute. The two of you had chosen to watch a horror movie after eating dinner, which was a bad idea considering you both hated them. But the reason for his pacing heartbeat wasn't the movie, no, it was you.
You were sitting next to him on the couch, huddled under the blanket. Your legs were touching his, your hands were clutching his arm, and your neck was resting on his shoulder. He wasn't even paying attention to the movie anymore, not when you were this close to him. Not even the jumpscares affected him. He was far too focused on how your grip around his arm would tighten, how you would try to scooch even closer to him, how you would hide your face in his neck.
After the movie ended, the two of you stayed in your position on the couch, too comfortable to move. Hyunjin had his arm around your shoulders, keeping you safe in his grasp. You were telling him about your past few days, eyes lighting up as you recalled your happy memories. The corners of your lips perked up when you talked, pulling your cheeks higher and bringing your eyes to a crinkle.
You looked so pretty in his arms, Hyunjin swears he could just lean in and kiss you right then and there. But he doesn't, because that's not what best friends do.
ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° PLUS ONE
The stars were twinkling in the midnight sky. It was late and you were too scared to drive yourself home, claiming that the horror movie "changed your brain chemistry." So, like any good best friend would do, Hyunjin invited you to spend the night. In his bed.
"Are you sure, Hyun? I'm perfectly happy sleeping on the couch." You were standing by his bedroom door, watching him pull out your favorite hoodies of his. He walked to you with a soft smile, handing you the hoodie so you could change into something more comfortable than your old (and probably a size too small) t-shirt. "Oh come on, it's fine. I'm the one who asked you to stay over, anyway. It's only right that you take the bed and I take the couch."
Reluctantly accepting the hoodie from his hands, you sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll sleep on your bed. But! Only if you stay here with me."
A deep blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks at your request, but still, he gave in and nodded. "Sure, anything for you, Y/n."
×
It was a long, nearly sleepless night. Beside Hyunjin, you slept peacefully, lying on your side and facing him. He spent many hours staring up at his ceiling, silently cursing and thanking god at the same time for putting him in this situation.
Don't get him wrong, Hyunjin was so glad to have you with him in his bed, but he was so anxious that he'd make you uncomfortable. Were you okay sleeping while facing each other? Was he hogging too much of the blanket? Was he too close to you?
Eventually, these thoughts subsided and Hyunjin finally fell asleep. After a couple hours of rest, the sun started to seep through the curtains, filling the room with soft rays of light. Opening his eyes once again, Hyunjin was delighted to be greeted by your face in front of his.
You were so beautiful. Hyunjin admired the way your plump lips still curved into a small smile despite being asleep. Your hair was covering your eyes, so he slowly reached his hand to your forehead, gently brushing the stray pieces behind your ear. His hand hovered there as he thought to himself, 'I could just kiss them, right now. No one has to know.' Shaking the thought away, he brought his hand back down to his side, choosing to continue admiring your beauty instead.
"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to kiss me?" you whispered, eyes slowly opening. "I mean, if you won't do it, I will,"
Hyunjin's mouth dropped open. Did he hear you correctly?
You giggled at his reaction, bringing your hand to his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch. "Last chance, Hyun."
This is it, he was gonna do it. He was going to kiss you. Closing his eyes, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was everything. He could've sworn he felt fireworks explode in his chest. He placed his hand on the small of your back, bringing your bodies together. You moved the hand on his cheek to the hair at his nape, playing with the soft strands.
Pulling away, Hyunjin took a deep breath and opened his eyes. You both smiled at each other, happy in each other's arms. "Finally. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."
"Took you long enough," you laughed. "I was so sure you'd kiss me after the movie. I was waiting all night."
Hyunjin chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. God, he could get used to this. "Had I known you wanted me to kiss you, I wouldn't have waited for a single second."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
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estrellami-1 · 11 months
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If I Should Stay
Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Steve is terrified.
Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.
Then he woke up in school in 1984.
He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”
Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.
She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.
Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”
Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.
He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.
He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.
She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.
Robin’s pencil lead snaps.
Steve freezes.
He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.
She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.
She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”
She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”
He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.
He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.
She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”
“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”
“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”
Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”
“Yeah.” Robin sighs.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”
I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️
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Me @ all of you:
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loudstan · 1 year
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Perfect Little Toy
Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.
Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader
Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry
 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.
“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.
“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.
“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”
“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”
“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.
“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”
“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”
“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”
“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 
“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.
“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.
“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.
 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 
 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.
“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 
“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”
“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 
“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 
 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.
“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.
Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 
“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 
“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 
“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.
“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”
Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”
“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”
“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 
 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 
“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”
Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”
 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.
“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”
“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 
“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”
“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.
“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.
“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 
“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 
“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.
 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 
“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 
“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.
“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.
“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.
 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 
“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 
“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 
“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”
Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.
“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 
 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 
 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.
“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 
“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 
“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”
Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”
“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.
“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”
“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”
“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”
“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 
“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”
“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”
When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.
“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.
“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 
“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.
“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”
“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 
“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.
“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 
“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”
“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.
“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 
 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 
“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”
“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 
“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”
Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.
“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”
“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”
“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 
The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”
“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”
Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 
“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 
No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 
“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”
“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”
“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 
“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”
“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”
“Wha-how do you guys know that?”
“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”
 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.
“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 
“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”
“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.
“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”
“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 
“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 
“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”
Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.
Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”
“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 
“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”
“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”
“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 
“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”
“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”
“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.
“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”
“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.
 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”
“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”
“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.
“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 
“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.
Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.
“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”
Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 
 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 
“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.
“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 
“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.
“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?
“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”
You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 
“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 
“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”
“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”
When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”
“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”
“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.
“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”
“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.
“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 
“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.
“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.
“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.
“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!
“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”
“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.
 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”
When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.
“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”
You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”
 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”
“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.
“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”
Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”
“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”
 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.
When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”
“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.
 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.
 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 
“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”
“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.
 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.
“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.
“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.
“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”
“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”
“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”
 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 
“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”
 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 
“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.
“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”
“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”
“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”
“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 
 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 
He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.
“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 
“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”
“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”
 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.
“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 
“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 
“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 
“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”
“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”
“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”
Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.
“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.
“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”
“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.
…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.
“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.
“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.
“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”
“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.
“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”
“Would you be available Saturday night?”
“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.
“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.
“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 
Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.
 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 
“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”
“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”
You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.
“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”
“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Not all all.”
“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.
Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.
“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 
“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.
“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.
“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”
“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.
“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.
“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.
You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”
Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.
“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.
“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.
“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.
“Faked an orgasm?”
“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”
Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.
“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.
Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.
In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 
 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.
“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”
“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 
“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.
Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.
“Can you feel it?” you asked.
Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 
“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”
“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..
“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.
“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”
“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 
“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 
“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.
“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 
“N-no, but…”
“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.
 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.
“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 
Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?
“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 
“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.
“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”
Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 
“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”
Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 
You loved it.
You loved him.
Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 
He had imprinted on you.
“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 
“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 
Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.
“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”
“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”
Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 
“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”
You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.
“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”
His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.
“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.
“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 
“When did I ever-”
“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”
“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.
“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.
“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.
“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.
“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.
“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.
“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”
“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”
“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”
“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”
“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 
“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”
 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.
“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”
 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 
“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.
 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.
He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”
So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”
 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 
“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 
Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 
Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.
“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.
“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”
“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”
“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.
“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”
He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 
“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 
Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”
 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.
“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”
“S-so big,” you cried out.
“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.
“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.
“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.
You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”
“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.
 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 
“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.
You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.
“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 
 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 
“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 
Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.
“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”
“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."
“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 
“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”
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belliesy · 1 year
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MINE. miguel o’hara x reader
✿ tags. afab reader, dubcon, exes to lovers, reader knows about miguel being spiderman, kinda guilt tripping, he not wearing his suit, porn with some plot, rough sex, degradation, blowjobs, deepthroating,face fucking, facials, squirting, full nelson, size difference, unprotected sex
✿ synopsis. miguel shows up to your apartment bruised and bloody and convinces you to help him // not proofread
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You wake up to pounding on the door.
2:06 am
‘Who the hell is here at 2 in the morning?’
You curse at yourself as you roll out of bed, rubbing your eyes and shuffling through the living room to the door. The knocking slowly stops as the person on the other side must have heard you coming, you put your eye to the peep hole and see your ex. “Miguel?” You ask through the door, “baby, please let me in.” Miguel begs through the door. You roll your eyes and notice the blood and bruises littering your exes face, shaking your head you open the door slowly. Cursing at yourself again for so easily letting him in.
You step back as Miguels large frame enters, “Well?” You interrogate, “what do you want?”
“I just need you to help me.. y’know.” Miguel responds, he looks embarrassed but you know that he doesn’t really need the help. This is just another excuse to see you.
“Fine, sit on the couch.” You sigh, “Your leaving once I’m done”. Miguel nods as you get what you need and sits on the couch.
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“There, all better” you say, crumpling the bandaid wrappers into your hand and throwing them onto the coffee table. “Thank you, baby” Miguel takes your hand and kisses the inside of it. You quickly pull it away from his lips.
“What?” Miguel asks innocently. “I’m being grateful for your help”. You roll your eyes and begin to stand up, “you can get out now”. Miguel grabs your arm, “wait, wait, I still need help with something”. Miguels eyes go to tent in his pants.
“No, Miguel, you can do that yourself, now leave.” You pull from his grab and stand up again, this time grabbing his arm and pulling him up. “Please, cariño, I know you miss me, how good I would fuck you.” Miguel steps closer to you, backing you into a wall, his knuckles drag across your face before going to your shoulder, pushing down.
You hate this and him. Hate how bad you miss him and how he fucked you, missed everything about his dick, how it felt in you, how good choking on it was like. You shame yourself on how easily your giving into everything. “Fine, this is never happening again though”. You lower yourself more to the point where your on your knees.
You unbuckle his pants and pull them and his boxers down enough to where his cock springs out. “Fuck, always looked so good on your knees for me.” Miguel grunts as your cold hand slowly starts stroking it. Your mouth goes to suck on his tip and Miguel flinches. “I could never find anyone as good as you,” he moans, “should have never let you go.”
You smirk to yourself and lower your mouth on him, moving your hand down to continue jerking him. Miguel is already moaning and whimpering for you, he feels hot in your mouth, he’s throbbing and probably almost ready to cum from the lack of sex in what feels like forever to him. You decide to tease him, your mouth comes off his dick with a pop. “Probably couldn’t cum from any other girl.” You look up innocently at him, “needed me? Missed me so much you had to come here?” you smile and watch as Miguels hips thrust into your hand. You look back at his cock and rub your thumb over the tip. “Don’t tease me, baby.” He moans throwing his head back. You begin to laugh before Miguel is grabbing your head and slamming you down on his dick.
You choke and your eyes water. You’ve missed how he fills your throat, fucking it like you were nothing. You moan and hum around it, driving him crazy and making his hips fuck your face faster.
“Don’t act like you don’t fuck yourself stupid thinking about me fucking your tight cunt, ah- you fucking, whore.” He looks down at your face, “but yeah, I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you”. He pulls out of your mouth, still grabbing your hair and starts jerking himself off. You sit patiently and with your tongue out, waiting for him to spill all over you.
When Miguel cums he’s moaning and throwing his head back. His cum is warm and splashes your tongue and face, coating it a pretty white. He looks back down, watching you swallow what landed in your mouth. “Good girl, didn’t even need me to tell you”.
Miguel quickly pulls you up, flipping you around. He stands behind you and with no prep shoves it into your tight hole. “Mm, fuck, Miguel.. !” You cry out, “sorry, thought how wet you were would be enough.” He fakes sympathy and starts with slow lazy thrusts.
You throw your head back again as he lifts your hips, moving his arm under your knees, your legs bent. You face is hot with embarrassment as he pounds into your wide, spread legs. You feel so exposed but the angle his hips fuck into you feel so good. It already has you going stupid. “Missed this pussy so much,” Miguel grunts. You babbling too now, “I missed you so much, missed how good you fuck me, please don’t stop!” You cry, head thrown back into Miguels shoulder. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m gonna fill this pussy up”. He reassures while reaching deep inside of you.
You feel him move from hooking your legs under both arms to just one. He rubs your clit with his free arm, your screaming from how good it is. Your cunt throbs around him, making him mumble degrading comments to you. Making you grow wetter and so much closer to your climax.
Miguels thrusts stop and he buries himself into you, you feel his cum fill you up. His hand continues rubbing your clit and your soon squirting around him, squeezing him so tight. Your both moaning, overstimulated messes. Your body shakes and twitches, his cock is throbbing inside of you. He lets your legs down slowly, him still inside of you. His body is leaning on you, pushing your bodies against the wall to lean against as you catch you breathe.
Miguel wraps his hands around your waist. “So how about a date this weekend?”
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notes - .. im so tired rn so this one was kinda lazy
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wonderlandwalker · 5 months
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Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you. You can find pt. 2 here!
Content Warnings/Tags: Violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n
Word Count: 4.0k
Requested by Anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶
A/N: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.
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The Capitol.
You are currently in the Capitol.
At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after. 
At least that's what you think happened.
At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.
You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.
You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.
Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.
You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.
You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there
But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember
You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing
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You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here? 
You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy. 
The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.
“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.
He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.
Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.
After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.
He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena. 
“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.
You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.
“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.” 
Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.
You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.
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You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.
You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.
The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.
It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep. 
You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open. 
The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead. 
You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so. 
The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.
You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you.  He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.
But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot. 
You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.
You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.
You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft. 
You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.
“Please darling, just open your eyes."
But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.
You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.
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You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out. 
You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you. 
But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.
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When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.
You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.
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Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him. 
You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it. 
It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.
He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.
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It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark. 
He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless. 
“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”
He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.
“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.
“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face. 
I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."
He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.
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At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.
It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.
Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?” 
He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.
So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't. 
He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.
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Part 2: Trying to Forget
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leighsartworks216 · 8 months
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Hi hi! I saw your requests are open and I really love your writing. There's a scene I saw on yt from bg3 where Raphael just magics Astarion's clothes off and I was wondering if you could write something where Tav covers him up or snaps at Raphael over the invasion of his privacy. Here's the clip btw
https://youtube.com/shorts/RJyurXglAHM?si=YNBC5POkV0j2Zns4
OH MY GOD I saw this prompt and literally could not stop writing until I was finished
Warnings: non-consensual undressing (by Raphael), slight arguing, swearing, trauma
Word Count: 1,139
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“Now, let’s talk about you.” Raphael turns his burning attention to Astarion. “I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”
“I do. I have a… proposal for you.”
“A proposal? If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”
You can feel Astarion’s whole body tense beside you with agitation. “This is serious business… devil.” The anger fades into discomfort. “My old - well, a long time ago, someone carved some runes into my back. I’d like to know what they say.”
Raphael hums as he contemplates the deal before him. You turn to your companion, confused. “What are you talking about, Astarion? What scars?” It’s not as upset as the spawn expects it to be. Truly, he was fully prepared for you to round on him for hiding something from you for so long.
He never got the chance to be… intimate with you. He tried, of course, he was uncomfortably desperate for the safety it would bring him. But, somehow, you saw past him. Through him. You saw the seduction for the act it was. And, somehow, you stayed with him anyway. He just, well, forgot to tell you about them. He told you of Cazador, of course. Just, not what he did to him.
Raphael was all too pleased with your confusion, smirking. “You haven’t told them? And you’ve kept your clothes on this whole time? How unlike you.” You stare sharply at the devil. He was enjoying teasing Astarion too much. But then it really went too far. With a lilting, “Why not let them see? Don’t be shy,” he snaps his fingers and Astarion’s clothes disappear in an orange glow.
You don’t even think as you immediately unclasp your cloak and wrap it around his shoulders. He’s more surprised you covered him up than Raphael un-covering him. You act as a barrier between the two, holding Astarion’s shoulders to keep the cloak covering him and glaring venomously over your shoulder at the devil.
Before you can spit vitriol at him, he’s trying to soothe the tension. “Don’t worry - I’m motivated to help you.” His teeth show as he smirks wider. “Scars often tell such wonderful stories - I think yours might be truly exquisite. I’ll see you soon.”
And just like that, in a puff of flame and smoke, he’s gone. You turn back to Astarion.
“Are you okay?”
His eyes widen, shocked. “I’ve been keeping a secret as wide as my back - literally - from you all this time, and you’re worried about me? Aren’t you, I don’t know, angry? Betrayed? Ready to kick me out of our little group?”
You frown. “No, of course not.”
He can’t wrap his head around it. Your face says you're upset, but your eyes shine with sympathy and worry. You mean it. Why?
“But I lied to you!”
“You didn’t tell me - it’s different.”
He scoffs bitterly. “A lie of omission is still a lie, darling.”
“Did you do it out of malicious intent?”
His face scrunches up. “Why should that matter?”
“Well, did you?”
“No! Not on purpose, anyway. There may have been some… selfishness.”
“Then you were doing it to protect yourself?”
“What are you-”
“I’m not angry, Astarion.” His mouth lingers open, but the words die in his throat. You squeeze his shoulders. “You kept a secret to protect yourself, not to trick me. You had your reasons for not telling me, and that’s okay. I’m not angry.”
He’s quiet. Shadowheart and Gale had backed away some time ago, giving you as much privacy as they could while you fought. Not that it was much of a fight. You’re grateful for it, nonetheless. Astarion has a hard time being genuine when it’s just you two; he almost never lets his guard down around anyone else.
He sighs. It’s shaky and quiet, but you can feel the shudder in his shoulders. He looks down at himself. He’s in nothing but his underwear and your cloak. His stomach is still largely exposed, and he grabs the edges of the fabric to close it the rest of the way. It feels… safe. He’s terrified, of course - he’s in his skivvies out in the open. But the way you immediately covered him up. He’d never dreamed of anything like it.
“I’ll find you some clothes. I should have something tucked away.”
You’re slow to release him. You pull the cloak to wrap more evenly around him, and then you’re kneeling on the floor, rifling through your stuff. Your face is set in determination. Your eyes are keenly focused on your search. A warmth fills his chest.
When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper. “Thank you.”
You don’t turn from your task, but he can see your soft smile. It eases him even more. Soon enough, you’ve pulled out a loose shirt, some pants, and a spare pair of boots. He has no idea how or why you carry spare clothes around, but he really shouldn’t be questioning it when they’re suddenly the most important thing in the world.
“Here. They may be a bit big, but they’ll do until I can threaten Raphael to give your armor back.” He chuckles and takes the clothes you offer him. “I’ll go talk to the others and start working out a plan.”
“Wait.” He grabs your wrist before you can even start to turn away. He opens his mouth like he wants to speak. Thank you again, apologize for creating this mess, something. But he can’t find the words. You wait, ever patient. And, gods damn it all, your expression is so open and kind - he can’t help cupping your face in his hands and drawing you in for a kiss.
It’s soft at the same time it’s passionate. A quiet thank you for everything. For your kindness, your patience, your protection. You don’t know where to put your hands. You touch his shoulder hesitantly, wanting to pull him close but not wishing to touch him where he’d be uncomfortable. It makes his undead heart ache even more.
His hands leave your face to slide down your arms, guiding your hands underneath the cloak and around his back. Even with his guidance, you’re reluctant to touch him, but then your hands, warm and gentle, glide across the raised skin. You press into him, kissing him harder as thanks for his trust.
When you pull away, you press your forehead to his, breaths fanning over his face as you catch your breath. He leaves one last kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Thank you.”
You smile. He watches fascinated as your eyes become filled to the brim with fondness. You squeeze his waist and slide your arms from under the cloak, stepping back carefully. “Get dressed,” you say. “I’ll be just around the corner.”
---
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All In 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)
based on the winning option for this poll
Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes
Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.
The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.
By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.
“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”
She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.
“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”
She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.
“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”
“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”
Yes, you can. And you do.
You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.
“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”
She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.
“Want another drink?” She asks.
“No, think we’re good.”
“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”
“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.
“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”
You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.
You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.
You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.
You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?
The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.
As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?
You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.
You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.
“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”
Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.
“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”
“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.
“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”
“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”
“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”
“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”
“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”
Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.
You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.
“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”
“Maybe we should just leave now.”
“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”
You nod, “yeah, I did...”
“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”
“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”
“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.
You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.
“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”
“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”
The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.
You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.
“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”
“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”
You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.
“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.
“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.
You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.
“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.
You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.
“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”
She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.
“You know her?”
“My sister,” you murmur.
“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”
“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.
He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.
You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.
“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.
“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”
“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”
You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”
She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”
“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”
“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”
You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.
“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.
You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.
“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”
“She alright?” He points at your sister.
“Tipsy,” you utter.
“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”
“Uh, you don’t--”
Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.
You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.
"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."
"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."
"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."
"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.
"I didn't think... I let her--"
"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.
"I guess... yeah. Sorry."
"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."
"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"
"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."
"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.
"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.
You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.
He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."
"What? No. That's... too much."
"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."
"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.
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chososluv · 4 months
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#𝟏 𝐅𝐚𝐧 - P L U G ! S U G U R U
✎₊˚⊹♡ summary & note : continuation of my plug series. here the reader is a local rap princess and suguru is your plug and favorite supporter ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
🏷 tags & warnings: smut, 18+, plug suguru, rapper reader, black femme! reader, reader has a vagina, weed smoking, squirting, spitting, riding, cremepie, oral (f + m briefly) pet names (return of ma/mamas agenda) also i was very eager to post this and its subject to be edited
✎₊˚  word count: 3.1k
if anyone knows the artist please tell me!
minors do not interact
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"How much you want again, mama?"
You look up from Suguru's hands to his face as his question registers. Your eyes feel heavy as the indica pulls you into a sweet, tranquil embrace. Your eyes are red, hanging low and Suguru drinks in the sight when he finally meets eyes with you again. He subconsciously licks his lips, your beauty causing his body to increase a few degrees with desire. The burn has him clearing his throat to focus and you give him a lazy grin. You don't realize, but you send him spiraling with your dazzling charm before replying.
"If I remember correctly, you said that if I finish the song you would smoke me out." You remind Suguru of a verbal agreement you two had last smoke session. A chuckle verberates, shoulders shaking as he brings a lighter up to seal the blunt he had been working on. His craftsmanship in his rolls never fell short and tonight was no different. As always, he hands the blunt to you first. He always lets you light it and inhale the first puff of potent gas. Suguru watches your sexy and glossed lips wrap around the blunt at one end and flick the lighter on the opposite. He replies as you light.
"Well, I have yet to hear this said record so where is it, mama?" Suguru taunts as he watches you hollow your cheeks. Your inhale is long and harsh, and a thick cloud of white smoke leaving your mouth confirms it. Suguru smirks, watching you stifle a cough as the cannabis renders you breathless. Your mind is numbing out once again, feeling peace as you lean back into the couch. You pass the blunt to Suguru.
"That gas is immaculate." You comment and he smirks before taking a hit. He's conservative with it, taking smaller but frequent puffs, a major juxtaposition to your bigger yet smaller amounts. He takes another small hit and replies.
"You should know better." He grins, causing a shockwave to go to your belly at his charming smile. You shake it off.
"I never expect less. Anyways, I have the track on my phone. Do you wanna hear it?" You ask as Suguru hands you the blunt back. You scroll through your phone as you take it, locating the track as you take another drastic inhale.
"You should know better than to ask me a fucking question like that." You roll your eyes at his profane language but nevertheless you know his intent. Especially with the way his hips turned into a lazy grin, eyeing at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Little did you know you have Suguru wrapped around your finger badly. His personal weed stash was not shared with anyone, let alone a romantic prospect. He knew you were different the moment he saw you rapping on stage and gave him the meanest and stankest attitude when he pushed up on you. It took him several appearances at your shows to finally entertain a conversation and the chemistry was so instant you were mad you took so long to give him your attention.
The drug dealer falling sweet on the rising local princess was not a romantic storyline Suguru thought he would find himself apart of yet here he was.
You play the track and Suguru instantly catches the beat. His head follows along with the bass instinctively, eyes closed as he focuses on your lyrics, flow, and delivery. Whenever clever word play or flow switch ups occurred he let out a verbal affirmation or appraisal that left your ego swelling. You took another hit from the blunt as the song continues, your final verse playing as you finish the track strong. A menace and lyrical genius you are in the booth and Suguru shakes his head. He opens his eyes as he looks over to hold your gaze.
"You so damn talented, y/n. You gotta perform that soon." He declares, reaching for the blunt and you hand it to him. He settles deeper into the couch, spreading his thighs out and the sight of him manspreading caused a butterflies to be released briefly but you quickly pull yourself out ot it. You gather your composure before replying.
"I will and you better be front row." You give him a cute little stank face, mean mugging as Suguru puffs on the blunt. He smirks at you.
"Bratty little thing," the words travel straight to your cunt, "but sure thing, mama. You already know wassup." Suguru gives you one of his charming grins and you feel those butterflies get set loose again. You can't fight it and you smile back. Suguru knows it's a mix of infatuation and cannabis, but he has the sudden desire to kiss you. He looks all over you, seeing that lip gloss still painted on your plush lip, big hoops in your ears, and those sexy bangs you recently got done. You're a goddess and have the intellect to keep Suguru on his toes.
"Good." You utter at his declaration, bringing him from his thoughts and he hums. He refuses to look away, even slowly leaning his weight towards you to bring his face closer to yours. You feel your heart thundering in your chest to the point where it almost hurts. You see the look in Suguru's face and sense he wants to immediately fold you in multiple different ways. Your eyes flicker down, eyeing the gray sweats he greeted you at the door with and see a tent now present. You should have known you would be sweating your straightened hair right back into curls.
"Mind if I kiss you, ma?" That was one thing about Suguru, you wouldn't think this immediately because he's a dealer, but he's so tender and so considerate of your boundaries. You felt yourself swooning at the man next to you, his large stature leaning over you as his lips came closer.
"I been waiting for you to do since I came through the door." You confess and Suguru smiles. A large and warm hand reaches out to caress your cheek. He holds his hands there, guiding your pretty face forward to meet him halfway.
"That long huh? Let me not keep my pretty baby waiting any longer, hmm?" Your lips meet and your world seems to melt. All the stresses evaporate and are replaced with a single thought.
Geto Suguru.
"Missed you so much, baby." Suguru says, tongue kissing you on his bed and you huff against his lips. You chase after his mouth, diving back in for a kiss as your hand snakes down to his sweats. He groans when he feels your hand palm against his length. You feel your clit tingle at his groan against your lips.
"I missed you too, Ru." You manage to get out before kissing him again. You crave his lips on yours and feel satisfied when you taste him again. He lets you kiss him a couple more times, your strawberry gloss on his tongue and you taste it when he shoves his tongue inside. You moan, falling onto your back as he pushes you onto it. You feel him pull away and you start to chase after him until he raises to his hunches. You pout, looking up at the man as he looks down at you.
"Watchu poutin for?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes the black elastic hair tie from his wrist.
"You're not kissing me." You say and he chuckles. You dig your toes into the comforter at how dark his laugh sounded and your lower belly awakens when you notice he's beginning to tie his hair up into a bun.
"Yeah? Cause i'm bouta fucking feast on that lil pussy take them panties off already."
He's going to be the death of you.
"Fuck, I missed eating this pussy."
Sloppy slurping sounds cause your head to spin. You moan uncontrollably as Suguru feasts himself between your legs. His tongue is darting skillfully along your folds, collecting every drop you have to offer. Your toes curl, thighs shaking as Suguru has you on your back, legs pressed to your chest and feet dangling in the air. Your pretty anklet dangles and it happens to be one of his many gifts to you.
"Miss when you spit on it." You whine out before you can stop yourself. Suguru raises an eyebrow from between your legs, stopping his feast to smirk. He doesn't say anything, but before you can retort at his pausing he gathers all the fluids in his mouth and spits violently. The majority of it lands on your clit, the rest trickling down your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll back at the filthy scene and Suguru brings his thick fingers to spread it around your swollen clit.
"Like this huh? Like when I mark this pretty pussy?" His fingers sink into your folds, fucking the spit into your hole and you nod.
"Mhmm, yes Suguru." You whimper and he smirks. He brings his lips back down to leave a messy kiss on your clit. Your head falls back into the pillows as he takes it into his harm mouth. His tongue flickers along the swollen button before sucking harshly. You clench around nothing, desperate for something but you're too fucked out to articulate you want his cock. You feel satisified with the way his tongue marks each inch of your cunt. His oral techniques were gifts that you loved to abuse.
"You taste so good," he moans, taking a break to look at his work. Suguru admires it, seeing your swollen and soaked mound. He places an index finger at your entrance, feeling the arousal collected and greeting him instantly. He swears under his breath at the warmth and tight embrace of your folds. You pant, throwing your legs open wider to wordlessly beg for more.
"Suguru!" You moan, bucking your hips to attempt to fuck his fingers. He grins, seeing a small ring of cream form around his finger.
"Pussy so fucking wet, mama," he removes himself from between your legs and rises to his knees, "need you to wet this dick f'me, baby." You are sliding to be on your knees, matching Suguru's stance and he raises an eyebrow. Your hands come to his face, holding his cheeks before kissing him passionately. Suguru moans and you're slipping your tongue into his mouth causing his dick to twitch. His hands fall down to the curve of your back, taking your ass in his hands and squeezing. You moan but only continue to passionately kiss Suguru. Your hands slowly came from his face, traveling down to his shoulders. You plant your hands firmly on his broad, strong shoulders and press down before Suguru can register.
"What's this?" He asks looking up at you as you straddle his waist. You look down, grinning as you sink yourself into his lap.
"Wanna ride you." You state, grabbing between your legs to stroke his length. Your delicate digits touching his warm cock and earning a hiss from his mouth. You take his lips back with yours. Your tongues dance once again as you lead his tip to your awaiting hole. Your eagerness caused you to sink down, ignoring the sting and relishing in feeling full. You moans in his mouth, and he finds his hands kneading at your ass. You begin bouncing up and down, earning illicit moans from the two of you.
"Fuck, you're so wet." Suguru says against your lips. You moan and continue bouncing in his lap. His cock inching in and out left you breathless and falling closer to euphoria.
"All for you baby." You tell Suguru. He blushes but meets your thrusts when you sink back down. You choke, moaning out a whimper as you lift your hips, sinking them back down to be met with another thrust from Suguru. A lazy smirk forms on his lips and you squeal. His balls slap against your rear as his kneading ceases and a slap occurs. You let out a scream at the sting and pure shock.
"So tight and warm." He grunts, continuing to meet your thrusts and you grin. Your thighs begin to burn but you block out the pain, continuing to ride your lover to his pending orgasm. You feel your roots sweating into their prominent curls and Suguru relishes in the sight. Nothing had him more prideful than seeing his girl come with straightened hair and leave with natural curls. He knew if you didn't leave your curls he didn't do it right.
"Ru!" You pant his nickname, choking as he thrusts deeper and hitting your spot. The stroke earns a gush of liquid to wet your thighs and his pelvis. He bites his lip as your nails begin to dig into his skin, smarking his shoulders with crimson lines. He doesn't mind and only continues to meet your bounces with quicker thrusts.
"This pussy was made for me." Suguru comments, savoring the way your cunt continues to grip and milk him ecstacy. You whimper, giggling softly before you speak back.
"This dick was made for me." Your retort is followed with you clenching your walls. Suguru moans out a soft laugh before his hand strikes down on your ass. You cry and he hits the opposite cheek. Handprints form on both cheeks and he massages the sting away.
“Gonna come in this pretty cunt.” Suguru warns, feeling his cock swelling and ready to explode at any moment. Your pussy continues to squeeze Suguru's cock while making it absolutely soaked. His dick is beyond wet, its drenched.
"Give it to me." You sultrily encourage, "missed your cum baby." His tip kisses that sensitive spot and you start whining. Your pussy squelching with each bounce in his lap and continuing to decorate his thick thighs. Suguru is moaning at this point, hissing at how you continue to grip him despite being so fucking wet.
"Fuck, ma you're squirtin' all over me." Suguru moans, biting his lip as he continues to meet your rhythm, You only moan, ceasing your bouncing to roll your hips fluidly, his cock sliding in and out with lewd squelching. You place your forehead against his as you moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you.
"Feel so full baby." You say against his lips and he grins, hand slapping your ass and causing you to toss your head back, yelling out a profanity.
"So fucking tight," Suguru grunts through clenched teeth, "imma cum soon." Suguru warns, moaning again as you continue roll your hips gracefully. You sigh at his words, still swirling your hips as you lean back. Suguru looks down and sees your soaked cunt leave a creamy ring around his cock. He swears at the sight as he fights to cum because god the view is fucking filthy. Your swollen clit stood at full attention as it begged to be touched.
"Fuck, Suguru!" You place a steady hand on the back of his neck to brace yourself as you continue to lean back. He bites his lip, seeing the way your tits bounce and your beautiful body rolling obscenely. Something primal shifts in him and he's placing strong hands on your waist. You yelp, feeling your body fall back till you land in the plush sheets. Suguru still holds your hips, having them in the air as he pistons his cock deep into you. You choke, screaming before you place a hand on his wrist as you choke on several moans. Suguru is grunting, eyes closing as he is near his end.
"Fuck! I'm gonna cum in this pussy." Suguru warns you as he feels his cock throbbing with each trust. The warmth and lewd noises coming from your cunt didn't help with the constant squeezing and soft pleas coming from your pretty mouth. Your mouth is hanging open as he continues to fuck you stupid, screams occurring as you struggle to grasp reality. Suguru's strokes render your mind completely blank.
"Ru-gonna-Cum!" You're choking, struggling to warn him and Suguru chuckles softly. He quickly moans though, as you squirt all over him yet again. He's cursing, hips snapping desperately as he felt his orgasm about to wash over him.
"Ah ah, baby fuck. I'm cumming!" He hisses out, sighing as he ruts sloppily, thick cum spilling inside you as you reach your undoing. You sob, thighs shaking as you back arches, tumbling into a thick abyss of pleasure. Suguru slowly lets out his thrusts, leaving you whimpering shivering as he slips out of your cunt. You shudder out a breath as you slowly open your eyes. His cock goes limp, but still wet with your arousal as you sit up. You're in a daze, but nevertheless you reach forward wrapping your lips around his limp cock to taste you and him. He hisses at the feeling but allows you to suck. You pull away, only to get pushed down yet again.
Suguru spreads your legs, eyeing at your abused cunt but he waits. Surely, his cum trickles from between your folds and he licks his lips. He leans down to lick a quick stripe up your cunt, fat tongue lapping the taste of you two before crawling up your body. He meets you with a kiss, swapping more than just salvia and you suck on his tongue. He pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.
"So fucking nasty." You giggle at him and he chuckles along with you.
"It's why you keep fucking with me." You tease, smiling lazily in the post sex haze. Suguru only smiles before kissing you once again.
"One of a few. C'mon. Let's shower and smoke another blunt huh?"
He always knows just the right things to say to you.
A shower and clean up routine later you're settling into his bed passing a blunt back and forth.
"When's your next show, mama?" Suguru passes you the blunt as he exhales. You take it, looking up from his chest before replying.
"Next Friday." You take a hit and watch him nod. He makes a mental note to clear his schedule on that day. Ever since fucking with you he always made sure he was present at your shows.
"I'm there." He said. You smile, nodding because you knew he meant that. This man before you taking the time to make sure he was always there to be your number one supporter. You didn't know if you and Suguru would ever be committed together, but you didn't bother to stress yourself with uncertainties. As long as you had the man before you in your corner. The world could burn away.
But as long as you weren't separated from Geto Suguru, you'd be fine.
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©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!
361 notes · View notes
aliidarling · 1 month
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the less i know the better pt. 2
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RICK GRIMES x fem!reader x DARYL DIXON
part 1
nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable
summary: everything is fun but then u try and run away... they arent very happy :(
tags: nsfw obvi, p in v, forced entry kinda, double penetratrion, degrading, humiliation, anal, throat-fucking, creampie, manipulation, face slapping, mean rick and daryl, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap...)
nsfw content below !!
They kidnapped you. Were you really gonna let them Stockholm syndrome you into staying? That would be pathetic-- Plus, Negan would kill you. He’s probably already sending other soldiers out to find out where you were. You hoped he wouldn’t be on your ass about your disappearance when you got back.
Because you would get back. You’d make sure of it. It didn’t matter if they were so gentle with their hands and how they kissed you. In the end, they were from Alexandria and Negan wanted them dead.
You tried to keep these thoughts in mind as you swiftly snuck out of the house, light on your toes. You held your breath. It was late at night in Alexandria, the streets empty, and the subtle sounds of zombies gnarling outside of the walls the only thing audible for miles.
It was chilly. You hugged your thin jacket around you a little tighter, glancing around cautiously. You carefully walked towards the back of a few houses. After being here for some time, you had managed to pick up on some clues and hints on how to get out of here.
Just a few days ago you came across Carl and Enid sneaking out of the gates by climbing it and dropping down onto the other side. You thought it was dangerous, but anything to get out of here, right.
Placing a foot on the gate and your hand on one of the ridges, you started to shakily climb it. You felt the small creaking noises, making your heart thud.
Don’t fall, don’t fall, you thought to yourself. Being found dead after sneaking off would be very embarrassing.
You had barely climbed a few feet when someone’s hard grip clasped around your ankle and yanked you down aggressively, making you let out a loud high-pitched squeak.
The man manhandled you over his shoulder. You heard his grunt and immediately knew who it was, even if all you could see was his back. You struggled over his shoulder, thrashing.
“Let— Let me go!” You screech.
“Shut the hell up.” He growls darkly, slapping your ass as a way to silence you. Your squeak makes his grip harden, and he turns towards his house and starts walking.
“You’re so ungrateful.” Rick says lowly. His voice sends shivers down your spine. You had never heard him sound so mean. He had his moments in the last few weeks where he had gotten angry with you, yes, but you could tell this was different.
“You kidnapped me!” You yelled back in defense, scoffing at his audacity. You thrashed harder, kicking your feet and trying to get free of his hold. You manage to kick him in the gut, which makes him brutally slap your thigh after he lets out a grunt.
“Shut the fuck up, you have no idea what you’re in for. I’ve been treating you so nice, so gentle, and you go off and do this shit?!”
You glared at his back. “You forced me to submit to you and Daryl!”
“Like hell we did, all we did was shove a few fingers into that tiny cunt and you were moaning for us. We didn’t even have to sweet talk you, you’re just a slut at heart who’s depraved of male validation.”
Ouch.
You go silent as his words echo in your head, his vulgar language making you squirm slightly over his shoulder. Rick being the man he is, immediately notices and speeds up his walk, nearing his lawn.
“God, of course, you’re getting off on this.” He groans in annoyance. “I could beat the shit out of you and you’d be into it.” He snickers meanly. “Maybe I should.”
You let out a whine, wiggling some more. He enters his house and throws you down on his couch. He walks off to his coat rack, takes off his iconic brown jacket, tugs at his shirt collar, and sighs lowly. He swore, you were making him grow more grey hairs, and he wasn’t even that old yet!
“You’re stressing your old man out, sweetheart.” He coos mockingly, a dark glare being cast your way. You flinch and shrink on the couch, hugging your flimsy jacket around you.
“You deserve it.” You grumble. He rolls his eyes.
“Fuckin’ brat.” He mumbles.
Just a few minutes later Daryl comes barging through the door, his body language pissed. You stiffen in discomfort as his eyes come straight to yours.
“I’m sorry—“ You squeak quickly, but you’re silenced by Rick smacking your cheek. You yelp, clutching your cheek with a shocked look as you gaze up at the two men.
They both stare down at you with scowls and crossed arms.
“How far did she get?” Daryl grumbles, turning to Rick and giving you a stinky side-eye. You grimace.
“The gate—“ You start, only to get bonked harshly by Rick once again.
“Did he ask you? I don’t think so.” He glared. “Now shut the hell up, girl.” They both turn away and start exchanging whispers and growls. They were both pissed at you, you could tell. You didn’t know what to do.
After another few minutes, they both slowly turn to you again. This time, a different glint was in their eyes. One you recognized. You shivered as you started to lean back slightly, your frown deepening. They notice and snicker in amusement, Rick coming to grab your shoulders and push you down onto the floor.
You yelp loudly, your knees knocking against the floor as you stumble and land on your hands and knees.
“Stop it, that hurts!” You pout, leaning your weight on your thighs as you sit on your heels. Rick grabs your hands and pulls them behind you. You squirm in discomfort.
“Ouch.” You grumble. Daryl walks in front of you and starts unbuckling his belt. Your eyes widen, and in seconds you’re face to face with his large bulge. You gulp nervously, looking up at him through his lashes.
“You want me to…”
“Yeah, ya’ stupid bitch, it ain’t that hard. C’mon.” He huffs. You resist rolling your eyes at his language, frowning up at him before looking back down at the bulge shoved in your face.
You attempt to pull your hands from Rick to pull his boxers down, but his grip on your wrists tightens.
“How the hell do you expect me to suck you off when I can’t even move?!” You say with an exaggerated tone. This was so damn annoying. You couldn’t give the man the blowjob he was asking for because of him and he was getting angry?
“Figure it out,” Rick says from behind you. You hear the sound of Ricks's belt unbuckling, and the feeling of hard leather wrapping around your wrist.
“This is not fair, at all—“ You whine loudly as you squirm and tug at the restraint, your face still shoved in his boxers. You yelp when you find yourself getting slapped by Daryl. Your bottom lip trembles as you look up at him. That was mean.
“Shut up before I force it down your throat, lil’ girl. Now use your teeth to pull down mah’ boxers, hmm? Or are you too stupid to do that?” He scoffs, his hands coming to grab at the sides of your face and press your nose into the fabric of his boxers.
Your nose scrunches up as he does this, a frown painting your expression. You hesitantly bite at the waistband, struggling but eventually managing to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it.” You mutter to yourself, leaning closer and giving his tip a little kiss. His breath hitched, a snigger leaving his throat.
“Ya’ think you deserve gentle treatment after that stunt you jus’ pulled?” Daryl glanced at Rick with a look in his eyes, seeking approval for something. Rick, who was now kneeling behind you and starting to unbutton your jeans, nodded.
Before you could speak another word, Daryl’s large hands cup your head and start to push it down on his cock. “Lips around teeth, yeah, just like that, now c’mon, nice and easy, don’t want you to puke all over my cock.” He mumbles, eyes narrowing as he sees his cock slowly disappear into your mouth.
Your protests all go muffled as you feel him filling your mouth, your gag reflex having your nose scrunch and eyes water. Rick from behind you starts to shove his hand down your pants, rubbing at your thin panties. You let out a surprised yelp at the feeling, which makes Daryl groan at the vibration.
“Oh yeah, see— I knew you were just a lil’ cock hungry, now you got cock down your fuckin’ throat and you’re all better, right? Not gonna run away anymore, right? Shake your head for me, baby.” He coos mockingly as he starts to bob your head up and down forcefully.
Tears well up more as you give him a shaky nod, barely holding it together as you feel his head hit the back of your throat. You start to gag.
Rick from behind you stops his rubbing on your clothed-pussy and whispers in your ear, his hand coming to rub your throat.
“Easy now, sweetheart. Relax your throat.” He hums. You try your best to relax, squeezing your eyes shut as some gags leave you. Eventually, you relaxed enough for Daryl to start thrusting his cock into your mouth smoother, back and forth.
Daryl throws his head back, groaning at the way your throat hugged his cock.
“Jesus Christ, fuckin’— throat is like a vice.” He scoffs, his eyes barely open as he starts to thrust more hard. Your body squirms but is immediately held back down by Rick. His hands shove themselves back down your pants, going to rub at your clit.
While Daryl uses your mouth like a glory hole, Rick is snickering at how wet you are. His fingers glide across your panties towards the damp spot. You flinch at the contact and try to pull away from his wandering hands, blushing intensely.
Daryl’s grip on your head tightens as he feels you squirm. He somehow forced his cock deeper, making you let out a muffled cry. Tears stream down your cheeks at the intrusion in your throat, being fucked relentlessly.
Eventually, he cums in your mouth and pulls back with a low groan. He stares down at you, pumping his semi-hard on in front of your panting face. You use this time to breathe in deeply, trying to grab onto every breath of air you can take.
“No more, please—“ You whimper, blinking up at him. He doesn’t listen to you and pumps himself for a few more seconds before finishing all over your face again. You gasp as his cum squirts onto your expression, your nose scrunching up. You shrivel up, mouth twitching.
Rick holds back a laugh at how pathetic you look. He turns to the side to grab a towel, handing it to you with a condescending pat on the head.
“That was just humiliating, man.” He shoves Daryl’s shoulder, the both of them staring at you. You sat on the floor on your knees, drying the cum and tears off your face as you tremble, coughing every few seconds.
“Girl deserved it.” Daryl huffs. He glanced at you, Rick, and then motioned towards you. Rick smiles and nods. He quickly comes up to you, picking you up by your armpits. You yelp, dropping your towel and squirming. He picked you up so easily.
“Hey—“ You weakly protest before getting silenced by the large man carrying you. They both drag you into Rick's bedroom, setting you down on the bed.
You barely have time to do anything before their hands are all over you, Rick pulling your jeans and panties down in one go while Daryl’s sticky hands grasp your chin and pull you in for a kiss. You’re being manhandled and fondled, squirming and trying to pull away before eventually kissing back.
Rick's hands pull down his jeans, a large bulge in his boxers. The view of your throat getting brutally fucked must have made him hard, no surprise about that.
Daryl sits himself against the headboard, his large hand pumping his now fully hard cock, his other hand patting his lap.
“Bring er’ here, facing me. Wanna see that pretty face.” He says. Rick plops you down onto Daryl’s lap. You had forgotten about the belt around your wrists, but when you attempted to tug at your hands to wrap them around Daryl’s neck, you were pleasantly surprised. You grimaced.
“I’ve been good, c’mon, just untie me, please.” You attempted to plead with puppy eyes, feeling Rick from behind you grab your shirt and bunch it above your chest. He wasn’t able to fully pull it off because of your wrists so he just compromised.
“Shut up before we gag you.” Rick scoffs. He sits behind you, his hands coming to spread your legs.
“Should I use lube?” Rick says to Daryl. Daryl blinks before grumbling.
“Yeah, don’t wanna tear her ass apart.” He snickers.
Your heart drops as you start to squirm and protest..
“W-Wait, what? You’re not going in my ass! Please don’t!” You whine. Daryl grabs your head and shoves it into his chest, your voice going muffled. You let out a cry as he uses his hand to raise your hips and position your pussy above his hips, sliding you down gently. He shushes your whimpers and cries as you feel your walls get stretched out without prep.
The only lube provided was your natural slickness, and in the end, even with how wet you were, you were no match for his girth. Your thighs tensed as he slowly bottomed out inside your tight cunt. His head leans back against the headboard with a heavy sigh, blissed out from how snug you were wrapped around him.
Tears come back from the burn in your lower body, trembling. Your voice shakes, pleading quietly as Rick behind you spreads your butt cheeks and prods at your pucker. You flinch and curl into Daryl’s chest, shaking. He giggled and brushed his hand through your hair, his other hand holding your hips down.
“Don’t—“ You’re silenced by Daryl’s lips on your own. Your protests are muffled as you lean into the kiss slightly, your wrists sore from the harsh restraints.
“Tight fuckin’ ass,” Rick grumbles from behind you. You hear something squirt, before yelping when something cold is pressed against your pucker. You shudder, pussy tightening around Daryl, making him groan in ecstasy.
“Don’t make er’ cry even more, as cute as it was we don’t wanna damage any internal bits.” Daryl snickers against your lips. You whine.
“How about you just don’t go in my—“ You’re silenced by the feeling of a thick cock starting to enter your tight hole, eyes widening in the pain. You squeal loudly, trying not to sob from the pain but failing. You had never had anything in that hole, and now there was a man behind you forcing himself deep into it.
“Good girl, just take it, you deserve this.” Daryl hushes you gently as you mewl from the stretch, your body tensing. Rick groans from behind you, his hands tight around your waist, holding you down as he slowly but surely bottoms out.
Once he’s fully buried inside you, they go still, watching as you sniffle and let out tiny cries. You were shaking from the intrusion, lips pressed together tightly as you did your best not to let out any sobs. You failed. Being stuffed with two cocks in both holes, front and behind, was overwhelming and you had no idea how to even cope with something like this. The last time you even had intercourse with someone was months ago— and it was some smelly Negan lackey who was looking to get his dick wet, and you were just really desperate for relief.
Rick's hands massage your waist tenderly, humming into your ear as he feels your tight hole clench down on him. He lets out a raspy groan, readjusting his hips with a little shift and making you yelp at the friction. He holds back a laugh.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He cooed mockingly, grinning at Daryl. They both stared at your shaky body, before tightening their grips and starting to slowly thrust. Your eyes widened at the feeling of them both sliding in and out simultaneously. Your eyes squeeze shut as your lips fall agape, producing moans at how full you feel. Each time one would pull out, the other would shove themselves to the hilt.
“You’re not gonna run away, ya’? You love these cocks too much, stupid lil’ slut.” You couldn't even tell which one was saying what anymore, your brain all mushy and your body like putty in their hands. You let an incoherent cry in response. They both chuckle.
“She's braindead, what a dumb little bitch.” Daryl laughs at you as he starts to thrust harder up into your cunt, humming happily at the sounds he was forcing you to produce. He tightens his hold on you so he can have more leverage, leaning back and groaning. It felt so good. The other man behind you grabs the back of your head, pulling your hair back as his thrusts start to gain speed.
Soon enough, both of them were making you sob from pleasure as they wrecked you, battering your insides from every angle. Rick had his hand wrapped around you to rub at your clit, the other one holding your hips firmly.
Daryl passionately kissed you, groaning as he thrust upwards into your dripping hole, his hands fondling your breasts roughly. He pulled and tugged at your nipples, making your arch deepen.
“Oh, o-oh, please, I’m gonna—“ You choked out, tears painting your flushed cheeks, tugging weakly at your restraint. Rick pulled at your hair harder, groaning at how your walls tightened around him.
“You wanna cum? Hmm? Promise you won’t be a stupid brat and try to run away again?” He sneers, pressing his chest firm against your back, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his cock twitching as he felt his orgasm start to near.
Your words were sloppy itself, whimpering incoherent rambles of words, desperate for a release.
“Y-Yes— Yes— p-promise!” You whined into Daryl’s chest, sobbing and shaking as they held you tightly and smothered you with their bodies. You were sandwiched completely, full, and happy.
“We find you running away again, we’ll slut you out for hours and force our cocks in every hole you have, got it? Don’t be an idiot, nod like a good girl.” Daryl huffs, pushing your head into his chest and silencing your moans and sobs. Your dumb little noises and pleas have them both snickering.
“C’mon then girl, we don’t got all day.”
Rick's fingers rubbing at your clit intensely, Daryl twisting your nipples, and their cocks shoved so deep in you eventually have you clenching down and spasming around them. You cum hard on Daryl’s cock with a loud mix of a cry and moan, quivering.
Just shortly after, they both finish in you, watching their juices drip out of your abused holes as they slowly pull out. Their eyes flicker to your face and how you were completely limp, lying on Daryl’s chest for support.
“Good girl, baby, took us so well. We’re so proud of ya’.” Daryl gently wraps his arms around you, smiling darkly at how they both ruined you. He motions to Rick to grab a pair of clothes and a towel for you.
Seconds later, Rick carefully took you from Daryl’s arms. He scooped you up and sat you down on the edge of the bed, spreading your thighs with a pat and wiping you off with a bathroom towel.
“How ya’ feeling?” Rick hums softly, smiling at you. It was like a complete switch from how they were just brutally fucking you.
“Tired.” You mumble lamely.
You hear a small chuckle leave both of them. Daryl gets off the bed to pull his clothes back on, but not before untying your wrists and pressing a sweet kiss to your red bruise. You frown as you gently rub your sore wrists, wincing.
“Sorry sweetheart, but that’s what you get when you decide to be all brave and run. But you learned your lesson, didn’t you?” Rick says sweetly. You smile weakly and mutter a shaky, “Yes sir.”, before raising your hands when he says so.
He slides one of his cotton tee shirts onto you. He smiles at the adorable sight of you and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a small kiss. He then squished your cheeks as you let out a little whine, pressing kisses all over your soft skin and nose.
“Let’s get ya’ in bed, probably so tired. Poor baby.” He whispers softly to you, tugging on one of his pair of boxers before picking you up once again, carrying you to his bed, and tucking you in.
You lay there still, frowning as you were babied by the two men. You didn’t know what to say. You liked the feeling of them taking care of you, but the reminder of the situation you were in sent goosebumps down your back. They had kidnapped you and forced you to stay with them.
This was so fucked up. But what could you do? A part of you was starting to like them.
“Goodnight, baby.” Daryl ruffles your hair, climbing into the bed and nuzzling his face into your chest. Rick spoons you from behind, his legs tangled with yours.
“Night.” You say quietly, with no energy to speak up.
You had nowhere to run.
guys can u tell i’ve never had it up my ass
212 notes · View notes
mermaidgirl30 · 1 month
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✨Stay in the Light✨
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A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a one shot based off the song “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron for a while, and I finally got some inspiration yesterday to write this little piece. Hope you like it 🩵 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for being my beta reader before I decided to release this out to the world 💕
Summary: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and he’s wishing he could’ve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Rating: 18+ Only
Tags: Outbreak! Joel, Jackson! Joel, blood, angst, comfort, feelings, regrets, in both reader and Joel’s POV, no deaths, fluff (I am bad at tags, so let me know if I should add anything)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
“When the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we met”
- “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron
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The ground is cold, wet, unwelcoming with a thick puddle of crimson blood pooling beneath his worn green flannel. Large flecks of powdered snow lace through his grey threaded curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. His vision blurs, going in and out in waves as pain takes hold of his insides. He can hear Tommy screaming in the near distance, his deep voice sounding like it’s washed out beneath a wave of deep water. He can barely register it, barely hear anything, but what he does see is a bright light, an angel in disguise. He sees you.
You. The girl he should’ve been more careful with. Your feelings, your heart, your everything. He was such an asshole ever since the first day you came walking through the front gates of Jackson. He should’ve been nicer, shouldn’t have yelled at you over petty things that were his doing and shouldn’t have thrown insults your way when you were just trying to help on every patrol you were assigned to with him.
Maybe if he would’ve been fucking nicer then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. A clean gunshot to the abdomen, now bleeding out on the thick white snow beneath him. Raiders. He wasn’t being careful, wasn’t paying attention. No, he was fucking fixed on arguing with you. Maybe he deserves it, maybe if he wasn’t such a grouch all the time then maybe none of this would’ve fucking happened. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve you. Warm, bright, gentle, kind. He was none of those things, so why the fuck were you still sitting here with him, keeping him from slipping into the thick fog of darkness?
“Joel! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” Your voice is so adamant, so terrified, so hurt. And it fucking kills him, destroys him. “Tommy! Help him!”
Joel sees the gathering tears that burn through your beautiful eyes, sees the absolute horror that’s coated through your knit together eyebrows, sees the pain of holding it all together just like you always do. Always so brave. His brave girl…. NO. You’re not his to keep, not his to hold, not his to tell everything’s going to be alright. You weren’t his and never would be. Not after the way he’s treated you.
He wishes you were his, but you’re not, and it’s his own damn fault for being so reckless. He should’ve been softer, more kind, like you. He should’ve done so many things, should’ve told you just how he felt. How much he likes you, how much he…
He winces in pain as Tommy presses down on the open wound, barely holding himself together to even keep his eyes open, but he fights. He fights for you. The girl he so desperately fell in love with over the last year, the girl he wished he treated differently. He should’ve fucking told you, but now it’s too late. It’s all too late.
“Hey, hey. Joel, look at me. Look at me!” You grab the sides of his face, sink your delicate fingers into the scruff of his greying beard, and cling to him just enough to where maybe he won’t slip through your fingers. You can’t lose him, you can’t.
“Joel, open your eyes. Please, keep them open for me.” You shake his head lightly, kneel over him and let your hair fall in a heap at your side as you pray for one more day with him. “Joel…”
Your voice is so sad, so desperate as you call out for him. He sees your face blur in his spotty vision, sees the glistening tears start to spill down your face. So he reaches up, musters up enough strength to wipe away the falling tears that stain your beautiful face. He thinks you’re so gorgeous, always has. Ever since you walked into his life, he knew. He knew he’d fall, and that’s why he pushed away so strongly. He didn’t want to lose you, he never wanted to. But now you were the one losing him…
He holds the side of your face for just a few more seconds, just enough to finally know he got you, some part of you, if only for a minute. And that was enough for him. At least he knew what it was like to feel your soft skin slipping under the weight of his calloused fingers. That moment alone was all he wanted.
He starts to close his eyes, starts to fade away into the midst of darkness and silence, but he hears you plead to stay in the light. “Stay in the light, Joel. Stay with me. Stay,” you beg. And he carries those words into the darkness with him. And then there’s nothing but the fading words of a promise he never could keep.
Stay in the light.
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He awakes slowly, hearing the buzzing sound of some medical machine he doesn’t know the name of. Slowly but surely his eyes open as the harsh light from the blinding window slips against the warm sheets of the sterile bed. It takes him a second to come to himself, to know he’s not dead.
He looks cautiously down at his exposed torso, finding the tight bandage wrapped around his wound. It’s clean, mended to, but the pain burns through his body. Every breath he breathes feels like fire in his lungs, but at least he knows he’s alive.
He feels warmth sliding through his fingertips, feels comfort bubble over his entirety. He wonders what it is, wonders what thing could ever bring him comfort until he slowly turns his head and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, fingers laced through his while your thumb gently glides side to side in slow circles on the back of his rough hand.
His eyes go wide, eyebrows knit together as he stares wondrously at the girl he’s been pining over since the day he locked eyes on you. You look so goddamn beautiful there with your fingers threaded through his. He can feel it deep in his gut, that fluttering feeling he’s always tried so hard to push back down, but this time he can’t. He won’t. He can’t ignore the voices anymore that scream your name every single night he’s in between his sheets, wishing he could just have a chance to hold you, to feel you pressed against his firm chest. And maybe he would. One day. Maybe he still had time to make you his.
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You hear a faint rustling sound in the sheets and turn your face slightly to the left, expecting it to only be your vivid imagination. Your jaw drops suddenly and your eyes go wide the moment you see Joel awake, breathing, alive.
“Joel!” You turn frantically and crowd his body, locking your arms tight around the back of his neck as you inhale his deep mahogany and pine cone scent.
“Ouch, take it easy!” Joel pants out as you jump back, realizing you might’ve hurt him with your body weight.
“I’m sorry, are you alright?” you ask as you assess his wound, running your fingers lightly over the bandaged area. He winces a little as you smooth out the edges, but he just hums in response.
“I’m fine. Jus’ calm down, will ya?”
You gently smile at him and brace your hands on the fitted sheets, just barely grazing your skin over his warm, sweaty body. Your eyes scan over his bare chest as you take in the coarse hair that covers his broad chest, watching the way the cool sweat glazes over tanned skin. You think he looks so beautiful, even after a gunshot wound. You’ve never seen him bare chested, and it surprises you what it makes you feel inside. Warmth.
“You came back to the light,” you whisper out, grazing your fingertips across the back of his hand as he stares wide-eyed at you, honey eyes so intense that you swear they’re about to split you in half. “I was so scared, Joel. You scared me half to death!”
He just watches you, eyes wading into yours like a violent tidepool about to drag you into the crashing waves, but there’s a fondness to them, a slight gleam in his eyes as he assesses you. Slow, curious, eyes that look like they might shed a tear.
“You… you saved my life today.” His tone is somber, his honey eyes wild as you see tears lick the surface, but he won’t dare shed them. Not in front of you. That’d be too vulnerable.
“Mhm. If Tommy wasn’t there, I don’t know how I would’ve ever gotten you up on that saddle alone. But we did it. We made it in time. I was so scared we were too late. You weren’t… you weren’t really breathing. Even the doctor was worried you wouldn’t make it. You’re a… well, a miracle.”
His face turns pale, lips parted solemnly as he breathes and lets oxygen back into his tired lungs. “Why did you save me?”
His words surprise you as you furrow your eyebrows and shift your weight slightly on the bed so you’re facing him. “What do you mean?” Your words come out shaky, appalled. What did he mean why did you save him?
“Why did you save me?” His honey eyes bore into yours, fingers flexing around the white sheets as he just stares with flared nostrils.
You place a hand gently on top of his warm hand as he tries to pull away, but you don’t let him. “Because I think you’re worth saving.”
His plush lips tremble, his eyes blowing wide as he takes in your quiet words. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he’s fighting with himself in his mind, but he just stares unblinking, taking in the soft way you look at him.
Finally, he clears his deep voice and rasps out a response. “I’m not worth saving.” His eyes look so sad, defeated, and you wish you could take away all his pain. Physical and emotional, you’d take it all on if it meant he could have one single day where he didn’t wear the weight of the entire world on his tired back.
You lean forward as you hear the creak of the old bed and place your hand gently on his bare chest, feeling the bristles of coarse dark hair running down his tanned skin. “I think you are, Joel.”
He gulps, arms fidgeting beneath you as you see him fight with himself, battling the demons of reaching out or letting you slip through his grasp. He finally finds the courage to slowly, steadily crawl his hand up the side of his chest, then ever so softly places it on top of yours.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bein’ a jerk to you the past year. I was a real asshole, and there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. I think about it every single night, think about how I should’ve done better, how I should’ve tried harder because I… I…” Joel winces in pain as he tries to sit up, but you push him back down easily and try to get him to stay still.
“Hey, careful there. It’s okay, Joel. It’s…”
“No, please let me finish.” You nod your head and he continues with a low grunt through gritted teeth. “I should’ve been nicer to you. And I want to apologize for everything I’ve ever done, every hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you. I didn’t mean it, not really. I’ve jus’… I’ve been goin’ through a lot, but that’s no excuse. Because I should’ve told you how I felt about you, not pushed you away. You see, the thing is… well, thing is I like you, darlin’. A lot. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and those eyes, that smile. I…”
You cut him off as you lean forward and crash your lips into his, letting his warmth overwhelm you as you slip into him. His tongue tastes like coffee, his skin smells of freshly cut firewood, and he feels so good in the palm of your hand. He surrounds you in something like warmth, ecstasy, something you’ve wanted to feel for so long. He glides his thick fingers through your hair and pulls you closer as he gets lost in you, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell, hear, feel is him. It feels so right, this feels right. You almost forget he’s injured until he grunts and shifts his weight to the right.
You quickly let go of the kiss and lean back, assessing if he’s alright, but he’s smiling. Warm, bright, glowing. You’ve never seen him like this, like he’s the happiest man in the world. It’s that twinkle in his chocolate irises that gets you, and you finally know that this is where you belong. In Jackson, with him.
He guides a strand of hair behind your ear and cups the side of your face as his warm, calloused thumb grazes gently across your cheekbone. “You kept me in the light, sweetheart. You’re exactly what I needed all along, I jus’ wish I didn’t wait so long to find the light.”
You sigh and smile. “It’s okay, Joel. You found it. You found me.”
“You gonna keep the light on for me, sweetheart?”
“Forever, if you want me to.”
He pulls you back in and grazes lightly over your lips as he whispers out, “Forever it is.”
Tagging some friends who might be interested 💛 @sawymredfox @burntheedges @littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @vivian-pascal @rav3n-pascal22 @princesatracionera @bbyanarchist @amyispxnk @pedrostories @syd-djarin @msjarvis @untamedheart81 @survivingandenduring
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ro-is-struggling · 18 days
Text
Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader
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Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.
Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance
Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader
English is not my first language
Word count: 4400
Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)
I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!
tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief
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What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.
In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.
From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.
It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.
“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.
“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.
But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all. 
You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen. 
You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. 
The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.
He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out. 
“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.” 
Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.
“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”
“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.” 
“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?
“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.
“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”
“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.” 
You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life. 
“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”
At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.
The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.
He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.
Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you. 
Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you. 
But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.
With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.
“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”
The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure. 
The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold. 
Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.
Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.
His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs. 
You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting. 
Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him. 
A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.
“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.
He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules. 
Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you. 
His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling. 
You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over. 
“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room. 
It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic. 
Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.
“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.
“I need to get some air.”
“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats. 
Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night. 
However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.
“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd. 
He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.
‘Happy birthday!
Call me ;)' 
It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.
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spidrrweb · 1 year
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4:30 am
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pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader | word count: 657
spiderverse masterlist ,,, i haven't wrote in a while sorry if it's messy <33 special tags: @miggyoharaswife @fadingdetectivestudent
Miguel o'hara fears love. He knows the cliché all spidermen have too well.
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Losing someone; romantically, platonically, familial—whatever it was, it didn't matter, they'd never last long enough. For death only played a part in making the hero, and he had successfully became said hero without it, there was really no need for it. There's no risk if no chances are taken. Besides, balancing hero life with romance is no way to live, stress upon stress could kill a man.
But its everywhere, in places he couldn't think of—or rather places he's tried to ignore.
Love was in the gestures he'd received from you, such as the early morning coffee runs you'd go on. Miguel has a taste for strong, slightly bitter coffee, something you've learned from his many rants about others doing runs because, and i quote, "there's no point in calling it coffee when it's 90% milk and sugar."
He thanks you, grabs the cup knowing fully well he'll toss it the moment you leave, until you tell him it's different. "Small black coffee, dash of milk, no cream or sugar...but i do have a couple packets if you wanna add it yourself." Miguel declines and watches as you walk away to deliver the rest.
A chuckle leaves him once he sees the cups labeled 'Miggy' with a poorly drawn spider under it. You probably rushed it on your way back. "Unprofessional," he comments with lyla agreeing, though he doesn't mind it. Finding himself peering back to it with a smile when he goes to reach for it throughout the work day. He made sure to get you on more routes for him after that.
Love was pulling him away from his world when he's lost in his work. Hunched over, tired eyes staring at the ground, fingers tangled in his messy hair. Muttering a series of solutions under his breath before shutting them down while lyla listens. "Miguel please," he doesn't bother moving to see you, "You can't keep doing this to yourself, it's not healthy."
He knows you're right but this is his job, it's what he lives for, and you of all people should know this. He'll fight back, explaining the society needs him, this world needs him, hell, the multiverse needs him. "I cant just stop when we're getting close—when i'm getting this close to it."
You place a hand on his tense shoulder, "I can take over from here." "No, you cant its-"
"Miguel." You can feel him relax under your touch as he sighs; there's no point in bickering, you're just as stubborn as he is, it's almost admirable. His hands fall into his lap as he sits up, giving you a good look at those eye bags. "Shit, maybe you need more than just a day off." He laughs, shoulders bouncing slightly as he stands up. "You're lucky we're close, i could fire you for that you know."
You hum and take his seat, watching him take a few of his things before he's out the door. "Text me before you get to bed," he freezes at the door way, looking back at you with a raised brow. "Needa make sure you actually do it instead of getting hyped up on coffee just to come back." He lets out a sarcastic "ha" before he agrees, despite not really wanting to, then says good night to both you and lyla while he leaves.
And when he's home, he keeps his promise; the moment he puts his phone down it flashes with a notification from you. It's a picture of you with lyla in the background along with a goodnight text and a heart. Miguel finds himself staring at it for what seems like an eternity debating on what to say. The screen goes black, he shakes his head and sighs.
The phone flashes again when he places it down, now it's just the time that shows. It's 4:30 and though the thick walls will take time to get through, miguel can feel himself love.
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