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#squeezing all of you guys my beloveds
p0rchc0ll4ps3 · 2 years
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Immmm 3am and sleepy but I love my friends for real
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sttoru · 4 months
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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji can’t get his deserved rest due to his baby boy keeping him awake.
wc. 707
tags. dad!toji x female reader. nothing else to add; just pure fluff.
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“he’s kickin’ me again,” toji complains with a deep sigh. tiny feet keep patting his back, not allowing the man to sleep at all. the culprit is none other than megumi—his beloved, yet bratty, son.
the little boy lays between you and your husband. you figured that this was best since megumi kept wailing each time you put him back in his crib.
you chuckle at toji’s groans of annoyance. your son is still full of energy, even if it’s already super late at night. your hand brushes against megumi’s chubby cheek and you can’t help but squeeze it lightly.
that action gains you a high-pitched squeak. you sigh and keep your child occupied with the movement of your finger against his face, “it’s his way of asking for attention, honey.”
toji grumbles something under his breath and scoots away from the both of you. megumi’s head turns towards his dad, his attention caught by the rustling of the sheets. you raise an eyebrow in response to toji putting distance between you both.
“papa’s mean,” you huff, talking to your baby. you can’t see toji’s face since his broad back is obstructing the view, though you can easily guess that he’s frowning.
maybe even secretly sulking about the lack of sleep. you do understand, however. he’s worked hard all day to provide for both megumi and you.
“papa,” megumi speaks up with an adorable pout on his lips. he crawls over to toji before you can stop him. the little boy taps at toji’s back again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.
megumi’s need for attention and affection from his father is heartwarming to see. you reach out towards your son in hopes of picking him back up. toji needs his rest after all.
a deep sigh escapes toji’s lips. not one of frustration this time, but rather one of defeat. he opens his eyes and turns around to face megumi. the man’s stoic face softens the moment he sees those cute doe eyes staring up at him.
“c’mere,” toji grumbles and lifts his child’s tiny body up without any effort. megumi giggles instantly and reaches his hands out to hold his dad’s face. your husband playfully bites your son’s tiny fingers instead, “not gonna allow y’r dad to sleep, huh? tsk tsk.”
you watch the scene unfold with a tender smile. toji lowers his head and starts blowing raspberries against megumi’s tummy. the baby squeals and giggles uncontrollably, writhing around in toji’s embrace.
“this is what ya get for being a brat,” toji mumbles and switches to leaving kisses along the little boy’s belly. that makes megumi laugh as well due to the ticklishness.
toji grins. his earlier drowsiness and annoyance have vanished into thin air. he can’t possibly stay mad at his son. not after seeing megumi happy. and especially not after seeing your content smile too.
“mama! mama!” megumi laughs between cries of help. his tiny hand reaches out to you whilst toji continues the little attack on his tummy. you chuckle and decide to intervene.
you scoot over to the other side and shield megumi’s tiny body from your husband’s tickles. you frown and playfully scold him, “stay away from my baby, you big bad guy.”
toji raises an eyebrow in amusement. he bites back a laugh before cocking his head to the side, that familiar smug expression appearing on his face.
“oh yeah? ‘m the bad guy now, eh?” the dark-haired man rolls his eyes. he towers over both you and your son - who’s giggling and still holding tightly onto you, “all right. i’ll show you just how bad i can be then.”
your eyes widen the moment you feel toji’s fingers land underneath your shirt, touching your bare skin. not a second passes by and he’s already tickling you. his other hand reaches for megumi’s tummy again—now making the both of you squirm and giggle loudly.
the happy sounds echo throughout the room. perhaps even loud enough for your neighbours to hear at four in the morning. but, you don’t care about any possible noise complaints. not during this cozy family moment.
plus toji’s fond smile as he continues torturing you and your son is definitely worth all of it.
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ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.
word count; 10.8k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!
a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all
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you’ve never seen satoru like this before.
head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.
it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.
he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.
”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”
unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.
”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”
satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.
you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 
but you’ve never seen him like this.
(and it makes you terribly anxious.)
”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”
you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 
he looks so small.
this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.
you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.
a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 
and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.
my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?
give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3
moron.
he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.
moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.
and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 
but he just won’t listen.
”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”
”satoru.”
there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 
and it makes him quiet down.
(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)
as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.
but most of all, you’re worried.
”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”
”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 
but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.
so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 
for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 
so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.
but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.
you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.
stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.
satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.
so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.
satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.
(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)
he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.
and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.
it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 
his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.
there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 
something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.
it only makes you worry more.
luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.
you just want to give some of it back.
satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 
that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.
but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 
still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 
all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.
(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 
and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.
but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.
two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 
you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.
it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.
”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 
your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.
but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.
”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”
”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 
“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”
but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.
”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”
”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 
a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.
satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.
taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.
gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”
there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.
but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.
”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”
another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 
he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.
so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.
”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 
a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 
when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”
this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 
your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 
”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.
to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  
his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.
”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”
using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.
”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”
he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 
”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”
once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.
”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”
silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 
satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.
he wants to be good for you, though.
so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”
the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 
”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”
”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 
”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”
he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 
”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”
as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.
(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)
the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 
yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 
satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.
”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”
”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”
for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 
as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.
and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.
you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.
”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”
satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.
”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face, and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.
”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting. ”… satoru.”
he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 
he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”
they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 
but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. the memory of a certain boy, of better times. 
(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)
you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”
a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, some way, you manage to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.
the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 
”what did i do to deserve you…?”
you blink. a moment passes.
then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.
a chuckle of your own drips into the air, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.
”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 
it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 
”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”
and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 
so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.
needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking for it himself?
you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 
you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 
you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 
before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.
stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.
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when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.
it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.
still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.
”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”
a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 
”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”
”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”
you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”
”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.
”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”
another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.
”it’s only four, satoru.”
”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”
”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”
”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”
his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 
it’s significantly less scalding, now. 
you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”
satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”
”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”
”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”
”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”
”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”
”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”
”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”
a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”
satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.
”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”
another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”
”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”
”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”
”hehe.”
a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.
”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”
you blink. once, then twice.
”… satoru.”
”yeah? what’s up?”
you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”
this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.
”huh? why not?”
”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”
”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”
you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”
”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”
”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”
”but —”
”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”
”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”
you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.
”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”
”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”
you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”
”your baby.”
another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.
“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”
satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.
but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.
(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)
so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 
”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”
”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”
”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”
a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”
satoru is silent, for a while.
”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”
”haah. okay, good —”
”however!” 
you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”
you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 
leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 
a tilt of your head. 
”… but you’re sick.”
”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”
another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.
”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”
in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.
but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 
”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 
”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”
you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 
”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”
satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 
his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”
”i’m not!”
”you couldn’t even taste it.”
”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”
you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”
satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.
”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”
you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 
as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”
after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.
”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”
”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 
you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”
”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”
”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”
”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 
“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”
sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. you won’t give him the satisfaction.
when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.
satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.
you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.
so you opt to indulge him.
”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”
you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”
”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”
with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.
”you’re good.”
”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”
”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”
”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”
he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.
”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 
”you sure?”
”a hundred percent.”
”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”
”of course.”
”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.
”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 
satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.
”your room is very like you.”
it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.
”… oh? how so?”
“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”
satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 
”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”
he closes his eyes.
there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.
you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.
”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”
a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”
and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”
he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.
”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”
the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.
you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.
you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.
”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.
”… you can.”
he blinks. still smiling.
”stay forever, i mean.”
you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.
this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.
”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”
you reach something. 
you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —
a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.
(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)
satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”
”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”
he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.
satoru doesn’t get sick often.
his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.
it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.
but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.
yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 
yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.
you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?
”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.
”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.
”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”
for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.
”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 
”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”
satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 
even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 
if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.
living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 
the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.
you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.
maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.
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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months
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Making you a mother
Laois x Fem!Reader
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: this is a request from AO3!! Short but sweet ^^
warnings: big breeding kink, reader gets pregnant, Laois is really insistent on filling you up with his cum, biting, overstimulation
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Laois held onto your hips, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulled you close to rub his bulge against your needy pussy. “You’re so pretty…”
His eyes were slightly hazy with lust, and you couldn’t help but whine, rubbing against him desperately. “P-please, Laois! I need it!”
The feeling of his calloused fingers tracing over your belly made you shiver in anticipation. Lately, you had noticed how focused on making sure you were well fed he was, along with fascinated with your tummy.
“Gonna…” he murmured, his fingers pressing down on the fatty part of your belly that protected your uterus. “gonna put a baby there, okay? Gonna…”
Your cheeks flushed with heat, the wet spot in your panties growing. Laois had never talked like that before, you didn’t even think he wanted children…
His thumb rubbed against your clothed clit as his lips pressed against your neck. “You want it? Want me to make you a mommy?”
“P-please…” you managed to choke out through your whimpers and panting. “Need it so bad!”
“Anything for you, sunshine…”
He pulled off your underwear, his cock rubbing against your dripping pussy. Usually he was insistent on eating you out, but today he desperately needed to fill you up with his cum. Laois needed to breed you more than he needed to breathe air.
He pushed in, groaning against your neck as your pussy clenched around him, eager to drain him of all his cum from the get go. “That’s my baby, gonna fill you up, promise…”
Laois fucked into you, biting down on your neck hard enough to have you yelp. But the pain ebbed away into pleasure, and his teeth were replaced with his lips, kissing away at the red mark.
“Sorry, love… can’t help it…”
He was hitting that special spot, making you cry out his name. “L-Laois, please don’t stop!”
Your nails dug into the soft flesh of his back, making him let out a sharp hiss. “Won’t, I promise…”
And he was right. Even hours later, when you were beyond exhausted and stuffed full of cum, he was still hitting that special spot, making you cum on his cock over and over.
“T-too much…” you were being fucked stupid, barely able to speak.
“Shh, you can take it. Gotta make sure it takes…”
He lightly pressed down on your belly, making his cum squirt out of you. Laois pouted a little.
“Looks like I’ll have to go again…”
———————
A few months later, you sat with Marcille as she fawned over your baby bump. “Oh, I can’t wait to be an Aunt! Do you think the baby will call me Auntie Marcille?”
You laughed, glancing at Laois as Falin and him watched the two of you through the doorway. “Probably. Marcille might be a mouthful for a baby though.”
“What about Marcy!?”
Laois and Falin cracked up, causing the blonde elf to blush. “W-what are you two laughing at?”
“Nothing… it just seems like you’re more eager for the baby to come than (Name) and I are.” Laois said, taking you into his arms. His hand brushed over your belly, his thumb rubbing against the bump softly.
Falin smiled warmly. “I think we’re all excited. Senshi has already started mapping out a meal plan for (Name)’s pregnancy.”
“Haha, he said he’ll teach the baby everything he knows, and Chilchuck is already giving me advice,” you said, laughing. “It’s sweet, you know they say raising a child takes a village… you guys are our village.”
Marcille started crying, hugging you. “Oh stop it, I’m going to cry!”
“Dear, you’re already crying.” Falin replied, kissing the top of her head.
You and Laois shared a kiss before he led you away by the hand. “Sorry ladies, but my wife needs a nap.”
Laois curled up next to you in bed, his face nuzzled into your neck. “Rest, my love.”
And you did, curled up with your beloved.
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osachiyo · 9 months
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୧ ‧₊˚ I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE ! *¨¨*:·.♡.·:*¨¨*
﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma, fukuzawa, oda x fem!reader ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), breeding kink, dazai is mean, nasty absolutely filthy smut, squirting, mentions of pregnancy & babies, petnames, degradation, overstimulation, hairpulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't be dumb like them), tit slapping, belly bulge etc ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : baby makin' ♡
﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : here it is, baby making with bsd men as it was highly requested. you guys can read bsd men as dads here ♡ happy reading & I hope you guys like it :3
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୨✩୧ DAZAI
You had the amazing idea of messing with Dazai, getting your karma because he messes with you all the time. Flirting with that cute waitress from the cafe, 'accidentally' eating your snacks...yeah you had enough. You remembered Chuuya, his oh so beloved rival and came up with the perfect plan. Atleast you thought it was perfect.
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Your eyes rolled back into your skull from the mind numbing sensation of your husband's cock stirring your insides deep. Your legs were propped up on his shoulders, ass smacking against his hips with each mean thrust into your velvety, welcoming walls. His jaw slacked to let out moans everytime you clenched around him so good, pussy clinging onto his rigid cock like a fucking vice. "haah─ feels good doesn't it, 'donna?" He grinned mischeviously, rolling his hips in a way that makes you see stars. "yeah? feels good getting pounded like a little slut? yeaah" he drawled, smirking at the way your eyes cross. One of his bandaged hands reached down to squeeze your tits, rolling a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger as you jot and whine from the stimulation. "you wanted this, didn't you?" He growled, slapping your supple and soft tit then kneading it in his large hand. "is that why you were─ haah─ shoving your fuckin' tits all up in Chuuya's face?" You couldn't even think properly anymore, the only coherent thing you could say was your lover's name, chanting it like a mantra as he fucked your brains out. "should I just make you a mommy then? huh? Fill you up with so much cum that it leaks out?" His hand came down on your tits again, and it fucking stung but felt so good at the same time. "pleasepleasepleaseplease─ fuck! 'samu" you choked out, desperate to cum and relieve the tension in your tummy. "yeah? you want my cum? you want me to cum and fill up your pretty lil' pussy?" You could only nod, tears stinging your pretty eyes as you cum hard on his cock. After a few minutes, Dazai reaches his peak aswell, cumming in ropes with a loud groan. You could feel his warmth in your tummy, leaking out of your battered cunt when he pulls out.
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୨✩୧ CHUUYA
"You think we would make good parents?" Chuuya asked you one day, chin resting on his palm as he flips through a magazine for baby stuff. You turned around to face him, eyebrows raised in shock because you two never had this conversation before. Now that he mentions it, you remember thinking a while ago how you and your lover would be as parents. You take a seat next to him, lips curved into a smile, "yes."
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And that's how you ended up in chuuya's bed in a full mating press with him pressing all of his body weight on you, holding you down to fuck you nice and deep like you deserve. The once pristine sheets now stained and soiled with a mixture of your and chuuya's cum and other fluids, turning the silken sheets into a darker shade than it was previously. He had cum so many times before this already, but he just couldn't stop. He needed to feel you clenching on him even more, needed to hear you scream and moan his name when he kissed and bit your shoulders and chest, leaving his mark on you. He was desperate to feel your nails racking down his back while he fucked into you, thick cock hitting all your sweet spots. The pain and pleasure made his mind hazy, eyes flicking down to watch as a creamy white ring formed around the base of his cock from how long you two have been at this. He wasn't gonna stop until he was absolutely sure he had fucked a baby into you. "ya seein' t-this, doll?" He moved his hand from the back of your thigh to your lower tummy, pressing down on the slight bulge there as you squeal. You didn't know if you could handle not passing out from the pleasurely pain before he was done with you.
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୨✩୧ FYODOR
You absolutely adored Fyodor, your dear husband. He would treat you so gently like you're made out of porcelain, holding your cheek in his cold palm, rubbing the warm flesh gently as he mutters soft words of affection to you. That's exactly how he approached you when proposing to you that he wanted you to bear his children. You, his sweet little housewife, just how could you refuse him when he asks so sweetly? Deep voice smooth like honey as he told you how wonderful of a mother would be.
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Just like he knew how to cherish you like the finest treasure in the world, he also knew exactly how to break you down into a sobbing, shuddering mess beneath him. He'd mutter the filthiest, most sinful words against your neck while thrusting into you, both of you a sweaty mess. The room smelled like sex from how long he'd been plowing into your sloppy cunt, absolutely drenching his thighs and cock in your arousal. He nipped and sucked little marks into your collarbones and neck, red and blue bruises blooming on the sensitive flesh as you screamed his name in pleasure. "oh, myshka, you feel just wonderful around me," fyodor grunted, hips smacking against yours in perfect precision. You could only babble dumbly in response, cockdrunk from how long he'd been at this. He was dead set on getting you pregnant. He imagined you, his darling wife's tummy full with his babies, tits swollen and heavy with milk and fuck. Just imagining that made him pound into you faster, harder as he desperately chased his sweet release. His hand reached down to thumb at your pretty clit, rubbing fast and tight circles on the little nub as the coil in your stomach finally snapped. Your cunt gushed all over him, making him finally reach his own release with a low groan as he held you close.
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୨✩୧ SIGMA
You've been hinting at your lover that you finally wanted to try for children. But alas, he was just a little too oblivious to your hints. It was getting annoying at this point, he would just blush and stammer at your bold moves, looking away when you give him a playful but flirty smile. Hell, you even gave him some baby clothes to make it obvious but he just thought you bought that for him and just got a very wrong size. That was your last straw. You had to take matters into your own hands.
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He came home late that night, it was a busy at the casino. He thought you'd be asleep already, tucked away into the comfort of your shared bed. Oh, how wrong he was. He walked into the living room, sighing as he took off the outer layer of his clothes. He was about to place it on the coat hanger when his greyish eyes landed on you, who was dressed in the prettiest white lingerie he'd ever seen. Good God, you looked like an angel. The faint glow of the candle light highlighted your features, making you look borderline otherwordly. He could hear his own heartbeat, his face and ears getting hot as you slowly stalked closer to him. Now standing infront him with a soft smile gracing your glossy lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He flinched from the contact of your bare skin against his own. "w-what's this about?" He gulped. You chuckled, getting on your tippy toes to mutter close to his ear, "I want you, Sigma. I want you to fuck me. I want your babies." He shivered when you playfully bit the shell of his ear, finally gaining the courage to touch you as he gripped your hips tightly.
Now here you were, bouncing on sigma's lap while he sucked on your perky tits. His slim fingers digging into your hips while you jumped on his stiff cock, shiny slick coating your's and his thighs. Your hands gripped his long luscious hair, tugging on it to hear him groan so prettily. He bucked his hips up suddenly, catching you off guard but you still kept bouncing. He thrusted upwards, matching your rhythm and it felt fucking euphoric. He could feel you tighten around his cock, throwing his head back. You could see his eyes slightly rolled back, drool dripping from his mouth as he tried his best to keep up with you. You both came shortly after, lips smashed against each other's as he swallowed your moans.
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୨✩୧ FUKUZAWA
You were sitting in the living room, right across your beloved husband as you thought about what he could possibly want to talk to you about. He elegantly sipped on his tea, setting the cup down on the coffee table that was seperating you both. "I've been thinking about this for the past couple days," he started, " I think we should try for a child. Of course, if you don't want to that's comple─" "no! I-I mean.. I also think we should try" you cut him off. He smiles, "So we're on the same page?" You returned his smile, reachingyour hand out to hold his bigger ones, "definitely, dear."
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"shh, darling. you're doing so good for me," he gasped, rocking his hips gently against your plush ones. He felt so big inside you, your pussy molding to the shape of his cock. Everything about him was so elegant. The way he softly intertwined his fingers with yours as he fucked you dumb on his cock. He wasn't even going hard on you, the sheer size of his girth made you see stars and eyes roll back. His other hand was gently stroking your cheek, wiping the unshed tears in your waterline with his thumb while mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. A low rumble formed in his chest when you clenched around him, "are you going to cum, sweetheart?" "nghh─ 'm gonna cum! please, fuck! don' stop!" You babbled, gasping when he picked up his pace. "go on, sweet girl. cum on this cock right now," he grunted, his grip on your hand tightening as you both cum. You were panting, mouth agape as you tried to come down from the mind numbing high of your orgasm when he started moving again, not giving you time to rest. You tried to stop him, pressing a hand agaisnt his hard chest but he just pinned you down easily, muttering something about he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure you took his seed.
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୨✩୧ ODA
You knew your man loved kids, and you did too. So why not have some of your own? The thought of starting a family with the man of your dreams made butterflies flutter in your stomach. When you confronted him about it, he was ecstatic. He imagined a mini you or him running around the house. He thought about it a lot. Would it really be a good idea considering his dangerous job in the mafia? Fortunately, you were there to reassure him. Telling him that even if he worked for the mafia, he wasn't a bad person. He deserved happiness in his life and you would be glad to give it to him. Heavens, how he adored you.
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You don't know how many hours have passed since Oda started drilling his fat cock into you, reaching every crevice with ease as he rolls his muscular hips just right. You don't even remember how many times you've came─ your mind not being able to keep up. Everything felt so blurry, you could hear ringing in your ears, with your legs being pushed back all the way against your chest. Your knees almost touching your ears as he folds you into whatever position he pleases. His cock pounding you so hard while his balls smacked against your ass, the soft fat jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips. It's like something snapped inside of him, crumbling all his restraint to take you slowly, lovingly and gently. He was never this rough with you. Did the subject of him getting you pregnant really affect him that much? Whatever it was, you didn't have the brain capacity to think about it right now, not while Oda was absolutely destroying your cunt. "you see that, honey?" He groans, staring in awe at your tiny cunt stretching around him. "she's droolin' on me, fuck─" he cut himself off with a gasp, watching as you shamelessly squirt all over his cock, drenching his abdomen and the sheets beneath you. "holy shit, and I thought you couldn't get sexier," he laughed, running a hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat. "don't worry, pretty. cum all you want, I'm not stopping till' I'm done with you."
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
TAGS : @hypocritic-trash-baby @gimme-noodles-please @dazaiserectnips @leonslxtkennedy
6K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 3 months
Note
hiya emmyy
i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )
thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)
hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3
-sky :)
SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.
He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.
SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.
I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight
dummy 🙄 why do you care?
SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??
Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot
He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.
“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.
He scoffs, “and?”
He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”
Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”
He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”
“I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.
“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”
This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”
You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”
He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-
And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.
He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”
You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are, Kuna.”
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he-calls-me-kitten · 4 months
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Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice
VA! MC x OM! Characters
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"Hey Levi, any new game recommendations for me? I just finished the last lot of books Satan suggested." You asked, plopping down your head on his shoulder to look at his screen.
"M-MC! You have to warn me before you do such things!" He muttered, his ears turning red as he scrolled some webpages pages for you. "But okay yeah these are the new games that are out recently... see anything you like?"
"Oh my God! It's out it's out!" You pointed excitedly at the screen. "Pretty Little Things is out! Finally!! I was dying to tell you all about it!"
Levi visibly stiffened up. "You-you were waiting for this particular game to come out? Are you sure it's not another game with a similar sounding name?"
"Nah uh this is the exact same one. Look up the list of voice actors in this game!"
"WHAT?! MC WHY IS YOUR NAME IN HERE?????"
"Yes! This was the new part-time job I couldn't tell you about since it was still in production! Im so glad you can just play it now!"
"...it's uh ready for download on all platforms already...so which character did voice?"
"Oh spoiler alert, my character is the only one that doesn't have a name, you have assign me one, the same way you name yourself. They even designed the characters to resemble all the VA's and add in some of their personalities, isn't that sweet?"
"Hahaha y-yeah definitely sweet! I'll be sure to check it out soon!"
"Great! Lemme know what you think of the game okay?!" You squeezed him in a small hug before you left.
Later in the Demon Brothers only group chat:
Levi: Code Red! Code Red! ASHSKSHSKSKSJJSKKS
Mammon: WHAT WHAT THAT MEANS AN MC RELATED EMERGENCY RIGHT??
Asmo: OMG are they OKAY?? Should I go check up on them in their room!?!
Satan: I'm already on my way.
Mammon: NOT BEFORE ME YOU'RE NOT!
Belphie: Is MC hurt in anyway?
Beel: Did they pass out from hunger?! I can bring them emergency snacks right away
Lucifer: Can you lot not lose your minds everytime MC is mentioned? Pathetic. Levi, calm down and tell us what's wrong.
Beel: But Lucifer I just saw you hurrying up the stairs to MC's room too...
Satan: Typical Lucifer. By the way, MC is perfectly fine, happy even. Levi what are you on about?
Mammon: Yeah MC can't stop smiling! It's a good thing that happened, you idiot! Why would you scare us like that?
Asmo: Omg apparently MC voice acted in a new game! Levi I need you to download it for me ASAP please!
Beel: Me too, please.
Belphie: Me three.
Lucifer: I've already done it, you all can do it yourselves if you could do your own work for once.
Satan: Oh shut up, MC just did it for you right now as they did it for me.
Levi: It's a Dating Simulator. With multiple H-rated DLC endings. And MC is one of the dateables.
...
Levi: Hello?!! Did you guys not see my message?!
Levi: Seriously no reaction?! You guys aren't freaked out by this?!?
Beel: I just heard several doors opening and closing at once.
Asmo: Oh come Levi, I think you already know what our reaction is Levi ♥️ How can we possibly hold in our excitement after such a news!?
Levi: Are you all downloading the game together?!!! Y'all are hogging the bandwidth too much, my download speed has gone way down!!
Simeon: Hey
Simeon: I heard some demons in a cafe, raving about a game where MC plays one of the main characters?
Solomon: Indeed MC just sent us all a link right now.
Simeon: Oh is that so? I'll get Luke to help me download it after he's done with his.
Levi: Luke is playing it too?! I don't think it's appropriate given it's certain hidden endings!!
Barbatos: MC already made sure of it. He only has access to the sibling and friendship routes. It's a special version they added for all ages.
Diavolo: It already has downloads in the ten thousands. I'm really glad to see how MC is beloved by Devildom.
Levi: Are NONE of you affected by the fact that there are erotic routes with MC's VOICE?!!
Solomon: Oh I personally cannot wait hear my adorable apprentice's performance.
Barbatos: Ahem. I'd rather not comment on it.
Simeon: Same.
Diavolo: Same.
Levi: Sigh. We really are just a helpless lot at the mercy of MC.
To be continued...
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jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
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our secret moments.
ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers
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in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.
this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D
songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument
5.6k words
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your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.
vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.
you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.
high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.
he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.
but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.
“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”
both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.
your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.
your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.
lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.
your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.
okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.
“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.
“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“
“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.
“he is!” you protest, waving them off.
you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.
“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.
“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.
the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.
you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.
“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.
you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.
“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”
lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.
it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.
you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.
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youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday
user: are they together?
otheruser: mother?
landonorris: lost millions.
user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.
and 444 other comments
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you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.
apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.
“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.
“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.
“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.
“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.
you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.
lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.
“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.
“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.
“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.
lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.
“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.
“hey, hey, it��s fine! as long as you’re okay.”
he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.
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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)
landonorris: whoops?
user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?
user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.
user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?
yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.
otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW
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“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.
“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.
you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.
none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.
you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.
you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.
“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.
“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.
“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.
you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.
“lando, why are you doing this?”
“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.
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youruser: dinner w bestie
user: lando took this. bet.
user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando
landonorris: how was dinner?
youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.
user4: a date if i ever saw one?
user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?
user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr
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the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.
your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.
“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.
“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.
“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.
“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.
“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.
“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.
“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.
you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.
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youruser: new heights n pretty lights
user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.
landonorris: i want that hat back btw
user6: she is the moment
user: mommy? huh who said that?
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lando.jpg: from the road
oscarpiastri: violation.
youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)
user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?
user81: oscar 😭😭
maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?
user11: the wags are fighting omg
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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.
nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.
lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.
you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.
so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.
that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.
it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.
but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.
no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.
cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.
“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.
“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.
“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“
“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.
“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.
great, now you are crying.
“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“
alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.
“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.
fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.
“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*
“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.
“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.
your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.
you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.
you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.
-
the flight home is quiet.
your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.
you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.
you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.
he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.
“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.
“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.
your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.
“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.
“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.
“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.
“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.
“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.
“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”
“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.
“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.
“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.
“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”
fuck.
-
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youruser: commotion for the dress?
yourfriendmia: *commotion*
user5: on my knees begging
user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟
mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡
yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy
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you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.
from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?
he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.
you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.
the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.
you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.
he says your name, and the world stops for a second.
“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.
you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.
“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.
“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.
you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.
someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.
you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.
dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.
plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.
“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.
“lead the way.”
he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.
“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.
“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.
“come home with me.”
you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.
you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.
-
the door slams softly behind you.
lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.
“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.
your breath hitches in your throat.
“neither can i.” you whisper.
“we can be more.”
“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.
“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.
“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.
“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.
lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“can i…?” lando mutters.
you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.
“of course you can.”
he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.
you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.
“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.
the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.
“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.
“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.
“say it.”
“fucking incredible.”
“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.
his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.
his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.
lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.
“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.
“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.
“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.
lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.
“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.
he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.
he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.
“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.
“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.
your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.
the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.
lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.
one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.
“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.
lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.
“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.
“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.
“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.
“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”
“oh?” he coos, mockingly.
“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.
“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”
the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.
lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.
“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.
“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.
he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.
“you sure?”
“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.
it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.
your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.
you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.
lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.
“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”
the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.
you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.
-
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others
youruser: our secret moments
landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘
youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)
user1: FINALLY
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melrodrigo · 7 months
Text
my hair
Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader
Summary: Wednesday lets you braid her hair.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: I don’t think I used any pronouns, so it’s gender neutral really (at least i think so, i can’t rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grande’s ‘my hair’. happy halloween 🎃!
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“Wednesday.”
The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.
“Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.” You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.
She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.
She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing she’s been trying to get better at, for you. It’s hard, but she’s morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.
You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.
It’s something you’ve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.
She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesn’t let anyone else but you touch it.
Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.
You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.
“Ms. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.” You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.
She’s still only a second before she’s sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.
“You did sneak in, didn’t you?” She asks.
You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.
“Yes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.” You recount, from just the night before.
She turns to you, eyes squinted.
The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasn’t aware it could do. She’ll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.
Your hair’s a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.
She ponders about your words just a moment before she’s speaking again.
“Good. She should know that you’ll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.” She says, finally.
You grin, childlike.
She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.
“Do my hair?” She asks, almost more of a command than a question.
You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. She’s never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.
Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that you’ll say yes.
You could never say no to your girl, after all.
You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.
“Enid better not come in and see this.” Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.
“It would be better than when she came in last night while we were-“ Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.
She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one you’d given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.
You gulp as you realize what you’ve signed up for.
She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.
“Okay..braids.” You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.
To her credit, Wednesday doesn’t say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how you’ve done it.
But you aren’t that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And you’re self aware, you know you haven’t done the greatest job.
It’s not horrible, by any means. But it’s just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.
One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.
“Are you finished?” Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.
You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.
You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.
“Absolutely not.” She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.
You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.
“Just one?” You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.
Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.
“Love you so much.” You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.
You better, she thinks.
“Now, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. You’ve already made me soft. Don’t make me unpunctual too.” She says, the edge coming back to her voice.
“Wait, are you actually gonna go out like that?” You ask, a little shocked.
“Going to, y/n. There is no such word as ‘gonna’.” She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure you’ll be hurrying after her in minutes.
-
Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. You’re not late, but everyone’s there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.
“Um..Wednesday?“ Enid sounds from the back of the class, “Why does your hair look like that? And are you wearing a bow?”
You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?
One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again come to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.
“My hair is normal. And I quite like the bow.” She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that that’s the end of the story.
Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.
That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly kiss on the cheek, words muffled by the door.
“Love has made me so feeble.” She mumbles dejectedly.
You push open the door, pretending you didn’t hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.
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risustravelogue · 8 months
Text
I think Wriothesley is foreign to the concept of weekends due to his position demanding him to be present at his office at all times so people can find him with ease. Heck, it looks like he sleeps in his office, on that cushy couch of his.
But when you and he become an item and your relationship progresses to a point where he thinks you'd be comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with him, he realizes that hitting the hay in his office is no longer an option.
Unbeknownst to you, he actually has a bedroom in the nicest, quietest place in the Fortress with a big window looking into the ocean—he just never uses it because it's so far away to the point where it's more convenient to sleep in his couch. But he's determined to make you happy, so he orders a king-sized bed in secret and installs it himself (to the headache of the building maintenance guy who's in charge of that area). After it's done, he brings it up on a dinner date.
"Darling," he starts with an uncharacteristically hesitant tone gracing his voice. "Would you like to... sleep with me tonight?"
The last piece of baguette in your hand fails to meet your lips. "Sleep with you?" you ask. You avert your gaze shyly. "Um... you mean..."
"No," Wriothesley cuts. "No. I meant just that. Sleeping together in one bed. Just... cuddling to sleep or something." He sighs and takes your free hand into his. "I won't force you if you're not ready."
You squeeze his hand, your thumb caressing his gloved knuckles. "Well... to be honest, I've been thinking about it too," you admit, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "But I don't think the couch is a good place to do it."
A smug smile blooms on his lips. "Not to worry. I've installed a nice, big bed in my bedroom."
One of your eyebrows quirk up at the mention of a bedroom. "You... have a bedroom?"
"Of course I do. I just never thought of using it until you came along and stole my heart," he says with a smirk.
You smile at his flirting. "Hmm, the bedroom should thank me for bringing back its master."
"Sure, sure," he chuckles.
"All right. Let me finish my baguette first, Sir Duke," you tease. "Then you can show me how nice your bedroom is."
That night, you drift off to the first peaceful sleep you've had in years, huddled up under a warm blanket with your beloved's arms wrapped securely around your body.
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© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)
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pupyuj · 1 month
Text
→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.
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— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...
word count: 10.6k
dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.
content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.
requested? : kind of!
a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe
p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—
previous: magic words.
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jang wonyoung was late. 
to class.
which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 
“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”
you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!
ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.
everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!
“come on, baby. give me a show.”
you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?
a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.
oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.
(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.
no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.
but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)
thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.
the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.
still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.
you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.
you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.
“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.
“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”
“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.
you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.
“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.
“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.
“w-what?!”
“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”
“oh, right!”
you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”
jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.
“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.
“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.
“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.
“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.
gosh, this school was a nightmare.
nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.
but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?
you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.
you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.
wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!
it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.
things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.
so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.
the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?
you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.
when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…
“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”
ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!
“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.
“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.
“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”
you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.
“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.
the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.
the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.
it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.
it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.
regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.
“wonyoung…”
the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.
“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.
you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.
“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.
“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.
it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.
“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.
“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.
“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 
“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”
“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”
“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.
all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.
“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.
given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”
the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.
“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.
“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.
you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…
“okay.”
wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.
“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.
“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 
oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.
getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?
it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.
you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.
“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”
soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.
“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.
“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)
you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.
“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.
“no.”
surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.
just like last time.
“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.
“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”
and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.
god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.
“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.
“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”
fuck, that was gonna do you in.
too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.
“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.
the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.
but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!
you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.
“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.
you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.
immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”
wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.
“well, consent is important—”
“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.
leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.
your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”
scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.
only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.
wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.
“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”
wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”
wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…
you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.
she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.
why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!
“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.
it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.
“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”
wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.
“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.
“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.
wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.
“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”
you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.
it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.
“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.
you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?
(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)
“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.
wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.
she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.
so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.
“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.
wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!
“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.
much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 
finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.
you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 
you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?
“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 
“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”
“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 
you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.
“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.
when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.
“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.
“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.
“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.
“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!
although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.
for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.
there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.
you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.
“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.
“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.
“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”
“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!
“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.
“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”
inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.
but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.
“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.
“i knew it!”
once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.
“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.
because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!
“is that…”
wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.
“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 
the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.
“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”
wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”
941 notes · View notes
surielstea · 2 months
Text
Honeymoon
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader celebrate being newly weds.
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | pet names (baby, love, wife) | shadow play | bondage | multi-orgasm | overstimulation | oral (f receiving) | creampie (?) | dirty talk | mentions of having sex on the beach | Azriel being hot
A/N: I hate this ngl but I hope you guys enjoyy
Word count: 5.2k
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The sound of Cassian's rambunctious laughter echoes throughout the entire house but Azriel was too preoccupied staring at me to take any notice of his brother's amusement— which was targeted towards Morrigan. Who was so drunk I doubted she could walk. I giggled as she battled with a stubborn wine cork, and was evidently losing. Familiar arms wrap around me and pull me into a warm embrace. "Let's go home," Azriel murmurs and I look up to him with a soft smile. It was two hours past midnight, our wedding ceremony started at noon. It's been a long day, to say the least.
"I just want to make sure Mor gets home safe and then—" I begin to pull away from his grasp but he tugs me right back into him. "Do you ever worry about yourself?" He questions and I roll my eyes. "I'm allowed to care for my friends." I justify but he only pulls me closer. "It's our night." He argues and I can't help but melt into him at the words. "Mor will sleep here tonight, you've got nothing to worry over." He gently rubs up and down my sides and I solicit an exhausted sigh. "We can go home and spend our first night as husband and wife together before we leave for the Summer Court tomorrow." He offers, his tone alluring. I twist my lips to the side, contemplating giving in to my newlywed husband or staying around until everyone found their way home.
"Okay?" He prods and I look up to him once more, though I should've known better than to let my gaze meet his and still expect to deny him. "Okay." I nod and his smile goes wide, resulting in dimples appearing to crease his cheeks.
He barely even lets me say goodbye before he winnows us right into the sitting room of our home.
Azriel pulls me through the dimly lit hall of our house as I stumble over my heels, squeezing his hand tightly in a signal for him to slow down, the eager male however had no intention of wasting any more time without me in his arms, just us two.
I'd be lying if I said some alone time wasn't exactly what I needed. Alone time, with him, that is. He seems like the happiest male on earth every time he glances back at me while I'm already looking at him returning his grin.
He pulls me into the master bedroom, leaning back against the door behind him and clicking it shut. I let go of his hand and stride toward the bed, plopping down onto it in a bundle of white tulle.
My feet are practically screaming they're in so much pain. I groan as I lean down, unable to reach the clasps of the heels due to my excessive amount of skirts. Azriel only chuckles as he watches me struggle to get ahold of my shoe. "What's so funny?" I glower up at him and he folds his lips inward to stop himself from laughing any further. He stepped closer and in two long-legged strides, he was directly in front of me. "Nothing beloved," He crouches down and settles on his knees before me with a sickeningly sweet look in his eyes. "How many skirts can one dress have?" He muttered as he pushed the ballgown material in every which way. "Too many," I sigh, head craning to the side as I stretch my neck.
I feel sweet relief as one of my shoes comes off, and the other quickly follows.
He discards the horrid heels across the room and looks up at me proudly. I would marry him all over again just because of that look. I grab him by his collar and pull him up towards me with a sloppy grin, leaning forward and pecking his lips with an uncontrollable smile.
"Your suit looks really good on you," I say dreamily as I begin unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Yeah?" He looks at me with a teasing smile, standing to his full height and staring down at me. "Mhm." I nod with a dazed smile, utterly love-drunk on him. His hands come to the back of my head, undoing my pinned-up hair that took hours for Nuala to do this morning. Shadows swished around us haphazardly as we both silently took care of each other.
Once I got his shirt fully undone I moved to tug it down his shoulders.
I feel a tug at the base of my scalp and I wince as I realize my hair is being pulled. "Ow— Azriel," I bring my hands back to meet his and he looked at me with slight amusement. "My fingers are too big." He muttered and a smile pulled at my lips. "I've heard that one before." I snicker and he rolls his eyes, taking his hands away from my hair and allowing me to do it myself.
It takes me less than a minute until my hair is unbounded and tumbling down my back. I look up at him with a soft smile and he mirrors it, hands coming to my cheeks reflexively, cradling my face in his all-too-big, scarred hands.
"My beautiful wife," The words roll so easily from his tongue and the title has me flushing profusely, by the mother, we're married and he still makes me go red. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
The kiss isn't hungry or lustful, just pure innocence and love. His rough hands are gentle when holding me, and his lips on mine are so precise and careful.
I smile wildly at the feel of warm adoration flooding through his side of the bond without hesitance. I sent my own version of it back only to find his mental shields completely gone, it was just us, the spymaster didn't feel the need to hide anything.
I pull back and quickly stand to my full height, silently turning around, and without a word he understands what I want. His fingers come to the white laces of my dress, untying the delicate strings as gently as he could manage. As soon as he's got them all undone, then the rest of the clasps, I can fully breathe again. I release a soft sigh as I feel the tight bodice loosen and dip from my chest. He helps me step away from the gown, shadows carrying the expensive white fabric to the armoire where it'll be hung.
"That dress is evil," I sigh in relief, looking up to Azriel who was preoccupied staring at every inch of my body.
I was wearing a dainty white lingerie set that seemed like it would fall apart completely if he were to pull at one loose thread. "You've been wearing this all day?" He grabs me by my waist and pulls me into his chest. I giggle at his neediness and wrap my arms around the back of his neck, then give him a cheeky nod. "I would've taken that dress off a lot sooner if I'd known." He hums, head dipping into the juncture between my shoulder and neck. My hand goes into his hair as I lean up into him, he was the only warmth I could find in this cold room. The lighthearted and sweet energy between us shifts into something powered by need.
He backs away from my shoulder and moves to kiss my lips with a passion I recognized well. My hands come to his jaw but before he lets me even think about reciprocating his urgency he's moving back to my jaw, peppering kisses down the column of my throat, the valley of my peaked breasts, all the way to my navel as he lowers down onto his knees. —And when he pushes me back onto the bed and settles between my legs, I know, he's mine and mine alone.
He looks up at me with swirling hazel eyes, all I have to do is nod before he's shredding through my undergarments, and without much foreplay, his lips attach to the apex of my thighs.
Breath escapes me as he wickedly flicks his tongue over my sensitive clit, my hand shooting into his hair as a whine drags from my throat. I feel him smile against me at the reaction, I look down to see his eyes already on me, catching my gaze. My brows furrow as shadows swirl around my thighs and pin them down onto the bed as he slowly moves downward to where I ached for him most.
His tongue slips over my slit and I arch upward. "C'mon Az, don't be mean." I cry out, pulling at his hair as he teases at my entrance with a stupid smirk on his face. "Need more," I whine. "What exactly do you need more of?" He purrs, his breath fanning over my wet folds, forcing me to clench around nothing for any form of friction. "No teasing." I shake my head with a pitiful whine. "Not even just a little?" He mocks, then his teeth nip at my clit and my breath hitched as I feel heat flood the sensitive area. "You like that did you?" He taunts, his tongue coming flat against the bud to soothe it. "Don't worry baby," He tuts as shadows swirl up my arms and tether me to the bed to prevent my squirming. "Just be a good wife and I'll give you what you want, yeah?" He hums and the proposition makes me throb with pure need.
"Az," I sigh out helplessly, tugging at my restraints but my whines die in my throat as his tongue delves into my folds, collecting every drop of arousal that was a result of him and him alone.
I grin my hips up into his face and he grins wildly, his hands coming around my thighs to pull me closer as he feasts on me like he hasn't eaten in years. My hips lift as I buck into his mouth and my silent command somehow reaches him, because the next thing I know he's dipping lower and finding my opening.
I open my legs wider before he can even think to ask and he smiles at how well he's got me trained. "Good girl," The praise slips from his lips and pushes me towards my climax more than anything else. His head dives low and his tongue enters me without struggle.
I clench the sheets in my fist and tears begin welling in my water line. "Fuck, Az," I moan out. He replies with a wicked flick of his tongue, his arms tightening as he brings me closer, I glance down to see him entirely engulfed in the taste of me like he was drunk on my arousal.
My hand goes into his hair as I run out of oxygen, panting heavily at the feeling of his head between my legs. He finds that sweet spongy spot deep inside of me and toys with it, flicking and swirling his tongue across it with a precision that had me mewling his name like a prayer.
He pulls away from the spot for a moment in order to explore other areas, his long tongue pressing against my moldable walls and I clench around him, if it weren't for his hands holding me down I'd be crushing his head in. I grind my hips up in protest so he returns to that spot, and with it comes a forming know that was growing increasingly tighter.
"Fuck, m' close," I warn, confining my ministrations upward with my hips. My movements become ragged and hurried as my high approaches, but he remains fluid and teasing. I whine as he curls his tongue in such a way that I'm left breathless, my hands in his hair go stiff and the knot burrowed inside of me winds itself so tight that it snaps and I'm blessed with a surge of pleasure as it sweeps over me, a mix of both heat and euphoria blooming from my core and as I release, it’s Azriel’s name coming from my lips.
"Good," He eases as he slowly backs away. “That’s it,” His hands stroke up and down my hips and I release a soft whimper at the sensation. “You can handle more can’t you love?” He murmurs between kisses as he naps his lips back up to my neck. “Mhm,” I nod shakily and he smiles, nipping at my sensitive now marked skin. “So good for me.” He rasps before sucking on the exposure of my neck.
I clench my legs together at the absence of the shadows from my thighs but the ones at my wrist remain. I whine as I grind down, already needy for more. He presses a soft kiss to my neck at the action. “Please Az, need you,” I whine and a grin pulls at his lips. “Is that right?” He leans down and the weight of his hardened cock pressed into my abdomen. My brows pinch together and I nod. “Please Az, I’ll make you feel so good.” I implore as I stare up at his delighted expression.
“Be good and stay still for me then, okay?” He prompts and I nod with wide eyes. “That my girl.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before dipping down yet again, this time aiming towards my chest. He pulls at the string like bra and it unravels at his fingertips.
His calloused hands grip my right breast while his mouth charts my left. His tongue— that was just inside of me, flicks over the sensitive bud and I whine pathetically, pulling at the shadows holding me down in order to weave my fingers through his hair. Hazel eyes meet mine and for a moment, in the dim lighting, they seemed golden. He released my left breast with one last swipe of his tongue and moved to my right one.
My hardened bud quickly became overstimulated as his scarred thump rolled right circles around it. My chest arched up, closer to his face. He hummed in approval at the action and I sighed out his name, over and over again, he was all I could think about. I was completely drunk on his touch and he hasn’t even fucked me yet.
“Feels good, ah— so good.” I mewl as his heavy cock pressed into my folds. I grind up against the fabric of his pants but it does little to get me any closer to my release. “Az,” I whine. “I know,” He whispers and moves his way back up my chest to my jaw. “I’ll give you what you want, my wife has been so good for me, I think she deserves a reward.” He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nearly moan at just the sound of his voice.
Shadows leave my wrists and unchain me from the bed while Azriel gets off his pants. I do the rest of his work with his boxers, feeling needy enough to get myself the rest of the way to my climax— but when he presses himself into my folds, I know it’d be impossible without him. He presses a loving kiss to my lips one last time before his tip aligns itself with my entrance and without any further warning he pushes himself inside, he only goes as deep as the head and I nearly meet my high at the feel of his thick member finally press into my sensitive walls.
“Gods, so fucking tight.” He grunts out and I smile hazily at the words, wrapping my legs around his hips so I’m forced to open wider for him. He lifted his hips and then thrusts them back in, his movements precise so he only entered another inch or two, but it was enough for a moan to bubble from my lips. “You’re taking me so well,” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Such,” He begins but thrusts deeper mid-sentence. “A good,” thrust. “Wife.” He praises and I tighten around him at the sentiment of the words.
His hand snakes up my waist, thumps at my breast, then past my arm and finds my hand. He intertwines our fingers and I hold his hand tight as he stretches me out.
He rolled his hips at a rate that had me losing any coherent thought. Finally, his base finds mine, his balls slapping against my ass. “Fuck, you feel good,” He curses, his head falling into the crook of my shoulder as he picks up speed and begins pumping into me faster. The sound of his cock entering me has me drooling, and the feel of him, gods, I could feel every ridge as well as the slight curve that gave him perfect access to my most sensitive spot.
“Az, I can’t,” I murmur as I feel that familiar knot begin to form yet again, sensing I wouldn’t last long if he kept this up. “So close,” I sigh with a fucked out expression as he just admired it. “Release on my cock baby,” He hums and I whimper. He increases speed and I barrel towards my high, chasing it and quickly catching up when he doesn’t cease his actions. My hand squeezes around his as white-hot pleasure consumes me whole.
“Azriel,” I cry out as tears drop from my waterline and stream down my cheeks. He doesn’t let up and I never get the chance to come down from my high, the result of my release only lingers but it never fully leaves, it only continues to build. He doesn’t dare stop, if anything he gets faster. My cunt becomes red and puffy with overstimulation, but he doesn’t care, because he knows how much I love it.
“I’m gonna fill you so full baby,” His free hand comes down onto my abdomen where he can feel himself inside of me. “Can’t wait to watch my cum drip out of you.” He purrs, his lips ghosting over my jaw. I squeeze around him at the words, eyes clenching shut at the pleasurable pain. “You like that? Like when I cum inside?” He hums and all I can do is nod. “Mhm, need to feel you spill deep inside me.” I cry out. “Such a good wife,” He admires, and again, that nickname, it leaves me utterly defenseless.
His hand scopes down my hip and grips my thigh before shadows help guide it up, wrapping around his torso and allowing him to press into me so much deeper. “Az— I’m,” I lose breath and he nods. “I know,” He pants. “I’m close too.” He reassures and I sigh in both relief and pleasure. His hips roll once, then twice, and on the third, I grind my hips up to match his pace and we both reach our highs.
His warm seed spurts into me, so much of it that it’s still leaking into me even once my climax passes, only when he slows his thrusts does the flow end. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling out entirely with a grunt, his release slipping out of me onto my thighs. He tumbled down beside me and released an exhausted breath.
“You’re so good at that,” I smile dreamily. “I don’t think you would’ve married me if I wasn’t.” He replies with a breathy chuckle. Realization dawns upon me and I turn my head toward him, he is already looking at me. “We’re married,” I say giddily and he nods with the same smile as mine. “We are,” His hand comes to my arm and he rubs his thumb up and down it then stops. “But I think that’ll change real soon if I don’t give you aftercare.” He springs up and I giggle. “I’m glad you know your limits.”
————
"C'mon Az," I beckon as I slip from his arms, dragging a groan from the male who was fisting the hem of my white nightgown and pulling me back down onto the bed. "We're going to be late," I grumble against his shoulder as he smushed me into him. "Tarquin is expecting us at noon." I remind and he grumbles a curse beneath his breath, nuzzling his face into my shoulder. "I don't think he'll mind if we're a few minutes late." He presumes. "Or a few days." The male adds and I roll my eyes as he pulls me closer. "Azriel," I warn and he does nothing aside from a dragged-out whine. "Big baby." I grit out as I squirm from his arms but his hold is iron and I'd be lying if I said I didn’t want to stay in his embrace.
"Just five more minutes." He begs. "You said that an hour ago." I retort with a glare. "And here we still are." He flashes me a crooked smile and I sigh, making my surrender clear. His eyes flash with pure joy while he pulls me impossibly closer, crushing me with his large, tattooed biceps— not that I was complaining.
"Only fife mibuntes," I mumble, cheeks smushed between his chest and arm. "Only five minutes." I feel him nod, he presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head before propping his chin atop it and taking a deep content breath, arms possessively tightening any time I try to move away.
The thought of being married hits me full throttle, the idea of being connected to this male for the rest of my life dawns upon me all in one moment and I feel nothing aside from pure bliss.
I wrap my arms around him and pull him close, flipping us over so he's on his back, his huge wings spread out on either side of him as I straddle his abdomen. He looks up at me lazily and the smile on his face is uncontrollable. "We're married." I grin wildly and he nods, biting his lower lip in order to shut himself up from every stupid love confession threatening to spill from him, so instead his hands come to the back of my neck and he pulls me down, his lips slotting atop mine. "We don't have time for this." I sigh against his mouth. "Then I can't wait to fuck you on the beach." He hums and my cheeks burn hot. I place my lips back over his to ignore replying to his awfully arousing comment.
"It's been five minutes." He mumbles against my mouth and I immediately reel back, narrowing my eyes at him. "Now who's the responsible one?" I tease, flipping off of him despite his whine for me to stay.
I waddle over to my armoire, walking foreign to me due to how impeccably sore I was between my legs.
I find a white summer dress and smile, slipping off my nightgown Azriel dressed me in last night, then putting the flowy dress on. Azriel was quick to appear behind me and tie the strings. I hum contentedly as he places both his hands on my shoulders when he finishes, leans down, and presses a kiss to my temple.
I grin, looking up at him with a cheeky expression before rising onto my toes and planting my lips on his.
"C'mon, get dressed," I press a hand to his bare chest as I swivel around and push him towards the wardrobe.
————
The summer court was hot. Far too hot to be wearing more than one layer of clothing. So Azriel and I ended up on the coast of Adriatta, watching the ocean rise and fall as it washed over the sand. I smile as I walk along the shoreline, remembering how I used to collect seashells as a child, my mother used to take me here every summer before she got sick. I only have good memories of this place.
"Look at this one." I hold out a small tower shell towards my husband and he barely looks at it, his eyes seeming to much rather be on me, a small smile gracing his lips. He holds his palms out where he holds an array of other shells I've found over our walk along the sea. I place the shell into his hands and we continue to walk hand in hand.
I string him along and he follows mindlessly, shadows swishing wherever the shadow of my body was, attempting to stay close to but keep out of the sun. Eventually, we find an alcove made entirely of calcite rock. The archway is just big enough to fit Azriel and his wings, shadows roaming freely in the darkness. We continue walking, Azriel watching me as I look at the structure curiously, like it's been man-made but no one could forge a rock like this.
My breath hitched as I came across a spot still under the rock that arched into a clear ocean view, entirely secluded like this cove was for us and us alone. I smile happily and rush over to my husband who had the beach bag slung over his shoulder. I take it from him and plop it down onto the soft sand, taking a large, blanket-like towel out and laying it down on the ground. Azriel smiles down at me as I plop down onto it. He squats down and hands me my seashells, I take them gratefully.
I line the edge of the towel with the found shells while Azriel dishes his book from the bag before finding his spot beside me. He rests on his stomach, wings spread out, the membrane shining golden and red under the soft gleam of sunlight. I smile at the image until his right wing pokes me in the side. "Ouch," I murmur and his wing tucks back in, he looks at me apologetically. I looked at his left wing which was spread out entirely and decided he couldn't have been comfortable with just one wing stretched out.
I flip over and straddle his lower back, careful to avoid his wings. "Go ahead." I run my hand down the hard structure of his right wing and he takes the hint, spreading it onto my side of the blanket then allowing it to rest comfortably. "We should've brought two towels." I hum and he opens his book back up, seemingly content with me sitting atop him as if I weighed nothing.
I lean down, careful not to touch his wings, and settle myself in the space between them on his broad back. My chest rests against his back as I wrap my arms around his neck and my nose comes to the crook in his shoulder, peering over him to look down at his book.
I read a few pages along with him but soon found the book to be boring, Azriel was always into reading classics that had some sort of hidden meaning he had to find. I could barely get through a few chapters without falling asleep. So instead I rested my head on his shoulder blade and listened to the sounds of the waves crashing against the sand then receding into the water, all to repeat the process over again.
I trace shapes on my husband's tanned back, stars and smiley faces, a lot of hearts, but most importantly the letters that spelled out "I love you" he closed his book once I finished the three words and he turned his head only a fraction. "I love you too." He hums and I smile like a schoolgirl with a crush. I scoot up on his back and wrap my arms around him tighter. I pepper the side of his face in quick pecks and a grin spreads across his features.
He cranes his neck to the side and I manage to find his lips with mine, placing a loving kiss on them.
"Is this even comfortable for you?" I ask and he nods. "I used to do pushups with Cassian towering weights on me, this is nothing." He hums and I roll my eyes at his competitive side. “You’re cute when you try to act so tough,” I say with a hum, my hands taking free liberty in roaming his exposed chest. “The entire continent is afraid of me.” He states and I giggle. “See? Adorable.” I lean over his shoulder and kiss his cheek. He grumbles a curse and I continue roaming his muscles with my fingertips, eventually finding his defined v-line, like an arrow from his hips. I drag my nails up and down the exposed skin, his shorts going awfully low.
"If you keep that up I'll winnow us right back into bed." He warns and I press a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. "Why so far?" I hum, my fingers finding the waistband of his swim shorts. "Don't you want to fuck me on the beach Azzie?" I recall and he flipped over, knocking me off his back. I yelped and he snickers, watching as I shake the sand from my hair. “Not funny.” I stand up, he leans back against his palms and just stares up at me.
“If you’re not going to help cool me off I’m going for a swim,” I glare at him but he stays quiet, just silently watching as I remove the lightweight wrap from around my torso and toss it at him. He doesn’t even try to catch it, just lets it hit him in the chest as he stares unabashedly at my body in the sunlight, glimmering like the sea behind me. He watches as I walk away and towards the shore, I can feel his stare from a mile away, on my waist, my chest, my ass. It didn’t matter, I was apparently uncharted territory, despite the fact that he had me under him last night.
“You want to join me?” I turn back to ask and all he can think of to do is nod. He stood and reached back, then took his shirt off over his wings and it was my turn to stare. His tanned skin rippled with muscle, the sun gleaming down onto his dark tattoos that I’d traced my hands along so many times I could draw them with my eyes closed.
“You staring at me creep?” He squints down at me due to the sun in his eyes. I smile childishly up at him. “Never!” I gasp. “I’m married I’ll have you know.” I wiggle my left hand in his face to show off the sapphire gem on my wedding ring, perfectly matching the color of his siphons. “And my husband could beat you up,” I cross my arms and march towards the water.
“Could he now?” He asks, hands snaking around my waist as I nod. “He’s big and strong, and so tall,” I say dreamily. “He sounds pretty incredible.” Azriel muses and I grin widely. “He is, but you know who’s even better?” I say and his brows crease possessively. “Who?” His hands leave my waist and I whirl around to look up at him. “His wife.” I supply, my smile widening as I watch his confused expression turn to one of realization.
“I’m inclined to agree.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips, I can’t help but lean up into it.
“Now c’mon,” I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers. “I think I saw a few water sprites earlier I wanna say hi!” I pull him closer to the water. He chuckles and follows along.
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General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @ilovewarner45
Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn
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lxkeee · 4 months
Text
MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
—PART SEVEN
PAIRING: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM! FALLEN ANGEL! READER
FANDOM: HAZBIN HOTEL
GENRE: ROMANCE
WARNINGS: CURSING & ADAM
NOTES: I tried to write the fight scene but I think it's shit sooo anyways, hope you guys like it lol
PART ONE | PART SIX | FINALE
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“Are you worried...?” [y/n] asked softly against Lucifer's chest as they cuddled on his bed, his thumb rubbing circles on her back. These past few months they have gotten closer, though unsure how to speak about their growing feelings for each other. They both know but also don't know how to approach the other and talk about it. They had a mutual unspoken agreement that both of them aren't ready yet, especially Lucifer who cannot yet part from his beloved wedding ring.
Lucifer sighs, clearly worried. Today is the extermination day and he is scared for his daughter but despite his power, he doesn't have enough to intervene unless heaven breaks their contract then he'll have to do something about it.
“Of course, I am.” he whispers, his hand squeezing [y/n]'s waist slightly, [y/n] noticing it immediately and sighs before pulling herself away from his embrace and sitting down beside him on the empty spot of his bed, making Lucifer pout slightly at the loss of contact.
“I understand but if something does happen, we will both be there to help them.” [y/n] says with a small smile, poking the redness of his cheek. [Y/n] admired him, the soft pink lighting coming from the tinted windows caressing his light complexion, adding depth to his otherworldly beauty. Truly divine.
His eyes half-lidded as he gazed at her, she was sitting against the streak of light, the shadows accentuating her features, he admired her [e/c] eyes hidden behind her long eyelashes, the plumpness of her lips, the softness of her cheeks. All of her is beautiful to him.
Lucifer quickly shakes off his thoughts, what were they doing again?
With a sigh, he smiled at her, “Yes, we'll be there to help if something ever goes wrong.” he says, slowly intertwining his hand with hers and with her squeezing his in return after. The two looked at each other with smiles on their faces, eyes dilated as they saw the other through heart shaped glasses.
Unfortunately, the peaceful atmosphere was broken as Lucifer's eyes widened, something that [y/n] noticed immediately which made her worried.
“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked, worried as she can clearly see the distress look on Lucifer's face. He quickly sat up and held her shoulders.
“We have to go, now!” Lucifer exclaimed, distressed and [y/n] can already tell that something happened with Charlie. She nodded and allowed Lucifer to hold her hand as he pulled her inside with him to a portal he just opened.
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Finally arriving, anger flashed within their veins. Realizing the situation, Charlie getting choked by none other than Adam, Vaggie being held back by Lute, and the others surrounded by multiple exorcists.
Lucifer and [y/n] looked at each other, not needing to speak what they wanted to convey to each other.
“I'll handle Adam.”
“Then I'll handle Lute and the others, stay safe.”
“You too. Please, I can't lose you too.”
Then they nodded and separated their ways. Lucifer immediately swoops down to save Charlie by punching Adam on the face and quickly catching the girl in his arms while [y/n] quickly swooped in to push Lute away from Vaggie.
Both Charlie and Vaggie's eyes widened, finally seeing the two powerful angelic beings they know.
“Dad!?” Charlie exclaimed, surprised but thankful he came to help her and her friends, turning to look at Vaggie who was supported by none other than [y/n], holding the girl's body in support.
“And Miss [y/n]?” she added, surprised that the woman is also here. Lucifer smiled down at his daughter, gently putting her down on to the ground.
“Sorry we weren't here sooner, sweetie.” He says softly, patting the girl's head. Charlie was just glad they are here.
[Y/n] turned to look at Vaggie, helping the poor girl by healing her wounds. “You poor thing, are you alright?” [y/n] asked her and Vaggie just nodded, shoulders relaxing as she felt her exhaustion and pain going away as the older woman healed her.
“Yes, now that you healed me. Thank you.” Vaggie says and [y/n] smiles before turning around at the sound of Adam grunting.
“Seriously! How many of you freaks do I have to fight?” Adam angrily says as he climbs back up the roof. Lucifer smirked as he began to pull his sleeves up as he approached Adam and Vaggie heard [y/n] whistle slightly.
“Oh I'm the only one that matters, see, you messed with my daughter and now... I am going to FUCK YOU!” Lucifer exclaimed proudly with a smirk on his face.
Silence. Clearly taken aback by the king of hell's statement. Some smirking and raising an eyebrow at him.
Me first... Wait who said that? [Y/n] thought to herself, almost chuckling. Vaggie looking at her, almost as if she could read her mind. [Y/n] just giving the ex-exorcist an innocent smile.
Charlie hesitantly leaned towards her father to whisper to his ear, “Its fuck you up, dad.” she says and Lucifer looked at her with confusion, “Wait... What did I say...?” he asked and was quickly pushed by Adam.
[Y/n]'s eyes demonically reddened in anger and her nails sharpened for a brief moment as she saw Lucifer getting hurt but quickly disappeared as Lucifer was able to come out unscratched. A sigh of relief left [y/n]'s lips. Vaggie just stood terrified next to her, the first witness to her demonic side.
[Y/n] gave a raised eyebrow at the girl, confused why the girl was so terrified of all of the sudden but quickly shakes her head as she flies down to help the others.
Snapping her fingers, golden chains came out of the ground and grabbed the exorcists' wrists. Flicking her wrist to flick the exorcists away from her friends. She's unsure if she's allowed to kill them so she opted in just throwing them as far as possible.
“You're the most hated being in all of creation!” Adam sneered angrily, annoyed as Lucifer kept dodging his attacks.
Lucifer smirked, “Whoah! Well your first wife didn't seem to hate what I have to offer or the second~! bow-chika-bow-wow!” He says, doing some thrust gestures which angered Adam even more.
“I'll fucking end you!” Adam growled as he tries to catch up to Lucifer.
She chuckled as she could slightly hear Lucifer making fun of Adam, Lucifer is clearly enjoying himself.
Turning around to look at the Hazbin Hotel crew, “Are you guys okay?” [y/n] asked and Angel Dust smirked, “Yeah, now that you guys are here toots!”
[Y/n] giggles, her wings flapping behind her back to keep her afloat, “Glad to know! Keep yourself safe? Mhmm? I'm going to help him a bit!” she says and Angel gave her a salute and continues to gun down the other exorcists.
Flying back to the roof to see Lute fighting Vaggie again, quickly summoning her chains to wrap around Lute's neck, “Leave her the fuck alone!” [y/n] screamed angrily, eyes burning red in anger and she quickly swung the chain, throwing the Lieutenant away from Vaggie. Charlie running towards them in concern.
“Vaggie! Are you okay?!” [y/n] asked worriedly, her normal appearance returning but her eyes widened as she saw Adam about to fire a large holy beam towards her, Charlie and Vaggie.
Without thinking, [y/n] quickly pushed the two girls away into a safe place. Making the two girls let out a surprised yelp.
The beam easily sliced through the hotel like a piece of cake. Caught off guard, [y/n] wasn't able to move her body into a proper flying position, rendering her wings useless. Making her fall, she screamed in surprise. Lucifer realizing that she's falling, his heart thumping in fear as he quickly swoops down, begging himself to reach her on time.
“[y/n]!” three people screamed in fear for her. She closed her eyes in fear, trying to calm herself down.
[Y/n] felt gentle yet strong arms catching her. She opened her eyes to see Lucifer looking down on her as he carried her princess style in his arms. He smiled at her, “I got ya.” he says with a charming smile, though [y/n] can tell he was scared for her based on his tone.
She smiled at him but she noticed something approaching behind Lucifer, realizing it was Adam who was approaching them in fury. [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her sclera turning red again.
“Lucifer look out!” [y/n] screamed in anger, her hand was able to catch Adam's punch, her now demonically long nails gripping into the first man's skin in anger.
Lucifer was caught off guard at [y/n]'s demonic form, this is the first time he's seen it and he assumed it just manifested. Despite her terrifying demonic appearance, he still found her very attractive.
He shakes off those thoughts, clearly not the proper time to have them. His own eyes turn red in anger from Adam. He then pulled Adam's arm and pulled the man in front of him and kicked him down to the cold hard cement.
He gently let go of [y/n] allowing her to fly by his side despite the absolute fury he was feeling. His more demonic side showing.
[Y/n] found him to be absolutely breathtaking. So this is the king of hell. She thought, her red sclera eyes admiring him. She didn't even notice that she too was in her demon form. Goat-like horns curled at the sides of her head, her teeth slightly now sharper, eyes now red, nails are now sharper. Her halo above her head is now dark red.
[Y/n] watched as Lucifer approached Adam, holding the man's collar as Lucifer began to punch him.
“You come at me and my family! Don't forget, you're in my house bitch!” he grins maniacally and was about to give him a finishing blow as he held his hands above his head, a ball of fire forming on his hands but Charlie stopped him.
“Woah, whoah, dad stop! He's had enough.” Charlie says and Lucifer was brought back to reality. Lucifer calmed down and walked away, “How does mercy taste like you little bitch?” he asked with a smirk, flying up the crater in which [y/n] helped him up by offering her hand in which he gladly accepted.
Both of them calming down, their demonic features slowly disappearing. “Are you okay?” [y/n] asked him softly and Lucifer shrugs with a small smile, finally taking in her new features—the curled up goat-like horns and dark red halo above her head. Beautiful as always.
“I'm fine, I love your horns.” He says with a small smile and [y/n]'s eyes widened, her hand immediately reaching up to her head to feel the new horns that grew. She looked at him with slight nervousness, “Does it make me look weird?” she asked and Lucifer shook his head, “Never. Horns or not, you looked beautiful as always.” he says with a charming smirk, making [y/n] blush, “Charming as always.” she says with a giggle but their attention was diverted to hear Adam groan in pain.
“No... You don't get to end this.” Adam growled in pain, weakly standing up from the rubble of where he crashed, “I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man!” he yelled, turning to look at Lucifer and [y/n], “And you're just some fucking clown and you're just a bitch or something!” Lucifer's eyes sharpened when he heard what he called [y/n], “What did you call her?!” Lucifer sneered and he was about to give the angel a piece of his mind when [y/n] held out her arm to stop him and she shook her head at him.
“I started everything on earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts!” Adam exclaimed and [y/n] visibly looked disgusted at Adam as she listened to him talk.
“You all should be worshipping me! You ungrateful, disgusting, fucking, loser—aaah!” he screamed in pain and the others just looked at him in surprise to see something impaled the first man.
“Uhh... You got something stuck in your...” Lucifer hesitantly pointed at Adam's chest and [y/n] nodded, visibly concerned.
Adam passes out face first and it revealed that Niffty stabbed him.
“Niffty?!” [y/n] and Charlie exclaimed, Niffty just gave a maniacal grin as she began to continuously stab Adam, “YEAH STAB STAB STAB STAB!” the smaller girl giggles insanely before walking away.
“Noooo! Sirrr!” Lute screamed in horror, quickly approaching Adam and calling out to him.
Lucifer approached the two, clearly still mad, “It's over.” Charlie says standing beside her father, “Take your little friends AND GO HOME!” Lucifer growled, fuming before immediately smiling, “Please.” he added.
Lute glared at him, taking Adam's halo with her. “ALL EXORCISTS FALL BACK AND RETREAT!” She orders, flying up as a portal opened for the exorcists' to pass through.
The others watching the angels leave and also watch the portal closed.
Lucifer turns to look at them with a grin on his face, “So... How about some pancakes?” he asked and Niffty raised her hand excitedly. [Y/n] just chuckles and shakes her head, turning to look at the chaos and destruction the angels left. There's still so much to fix.
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TAGLIST
@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers @rosecatlady18 @avitute @rosecatlady18 @crescent-z
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jhuzen · 10 months
Note
do you have any thirst hcs for grandpapi neuvi? if you do pls share i’m so hungry 🤲
hydro dragonussy [m.reader]
hello hello, guess who’s back to writing again? this is a warmup because i struggled hard in continuing my kaveh request wip and a buncha scenarios for sick reader w genshin men and jing yuan all at once. on second thought… i think i really shouldn’t have written everything all at once. not to mention i’m trying out quotev to publish my yandere oc/m.reader stuff for fun. + yes that is the title. it’s either that or crybaby old man dragon thirsts. you pick.
𖦹 nsfw, neuvi is a virgin old man, underlying mentions of reader being an attorney (we all know i have a bias for them anyway, have you seen my workload series? lmao), switch male reader, switch neuvi, though we’re heavily leaning on bottom neuvi for this one, honorable mentions of cockwarming and thigh fucking, brief mention of double penetration (reader receiving), gentle and rough sex, implied dacryphilia (you), breeding, fontaine rains whether or not he’s sad, his tears are the rain and i will drink them like a hungry eremite in the sumeru desert.
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Let’s face it, Neuvillette has no time outside of his work as the Iudex of Fontaine, he’s constantly buried underneath those paperworks, and on top of that, when he’s not tackling mountains of cases, he’s out in the opera, presiding trial after trial when the Oratrice can already do the same thing for him.
So when you appeared in his life all of a sudden, he was new to all sorts of things. In his long life as a dragon, he has had little experience in what you can offer to him. He’s awkward for the first few moments of your relationship.
It’s the same to sex — you’d have to take initiative in every single little thing, show him the ropes like the good commander you are, and he obeys with no complaints. He sees that you enjoy it, and if you’re good at it and you’re willing to teach him, he is an obedient patient.
Old man’s heads are very clumsy at first, teeth scraping against your length while he slowly but surely bobbed his head. He’s slow, but he treats your little guy with so much care. Looking up at you with tears pricking at the ends of his eyes as he tried to please you as best as he could. Obligatory weather report — it’s a light drizzle in Fontaine.
But when you give him head, Neuvillette squirms, it doesn’t matter where he is, he could not keep himself still. It’s always obvious that even you cannot bring yourself to blow him semi-public in his office, just because you’re afraid a poor innocent little Melusine would come inside and see their beloved leader squirming around traumatize them. It would also be bad for his image if you guys get caught, so… sexy times are inside the comfort of his possibly huge home as much as possible.
Sex with him is slow and intimate, very romantic. What did you expect? He’s from Fontaine and they apparently love to romanticize things. Whether or not who’s on top when you guys are doing it, they are a lot more languid in style, like a moment of relaxation between the two of you.
A switch, though preferably a bottom. Yes, that’s right, old man Neuvillette likes to be serviced. He likes it when you’re the one filling him up so good. It’s hot and heavy, just the way he likes it.
He’s a tired man, so he’s definitely a pillow prince— no, a pillow king. He lays there and takes it like a good boy, only gazing at you with those soft eyes, hazy with love and lust while you continued to push into him. He takes your hand in his every time you enter him and he always squeezes your hand tight the deeper you go in.
Call him romantic and a basic man, but he lives for missionary. He wants to see you while he feels you stuff him full of your cock. He only writhes in the beginning while he tries to adjust around you, squeezing you tight inside him while his breath stutters, trying to take you in all at once.
If he’s the one in charge, it’s all the same, he’s gentle with his actions, though, honestly, he’d rather have you ride him instead. He likes to see you in all your glory, with you rolling your hips in such a needy manner while he kept you grounded, holding onto you as he caressed your thighs. It’s perfect for him.
Oh yeah, and this goes without saying — he’s a dragon, so he has two cocks. Fitting him in is a sport on its own, but you graduated with a major in fucking dragons, so you’re good. He’s a bit thicker on the side too, so each time you take him in, you could feel every inch of him, and every throb of his cocks is a heaven sent feeling that courses through your insides.
Please be gentle with him, he is an old tired man who hasn’t had a break. He is so vanilla that it’s boring but his cries are worth it.
He’s a very quiet man too, his moans are shy and light, a gasp here and there and a tiny whimper with every increment of speed adding into your thrusts.
Neuvillette is definitely the type to squirm and get away from you at first, but you just need to keep him still and hold him down by his thighs before you plow into him. He likes it though when you do it, it reassures him that you want to do this with him and that you’re not letting him go no matter what happens.
Another weather report: a good light rain. Not too heavy.
Now that all the sweet stuff is out of the way, rough sex is not as often as the usual vanilla one, but it’s not completely an uninvited guest between you two.
If you fucked him rough and hard, Neuvillette will cry and break. His poor pristine and unmarked body, filled to the brim with your greedy bite marks and hickeys, glowing red and bruising dark purple that leaves him embarrassed when they’re still around if you somehow managed to weasel in a rough session in the morning before he goes to work and you will be reprimanded for it once he’s home, no exceptions.
“No more of these obvious markings,” he’d say with a stern tone, only to end up face down on the pillow with his ass up while you found a loophole and devoured his entire back instead.
He hates that he can’t see you when you go rough on him, because it’s normally him ending up with his face buried into his pillow while he laid on his stomach, his hips being held up by you while you ruthlessly pounded into him without even an ounce of mercy.
He hates it, but at the same time, it does help with keeping his noise down because when you’re doing him so roughly, Neuvillette wails, he cries hard, with those pretty tears of his not letting up. He’d scream to the high heavens and were it not for the fact that your hand was forcing his head down into his soft pillow, the entirety of Fontaine would hear it.
Again, Neuvillette is a tired old man, so something so rough definitely leaves him drained, you’d constantly have to hold him up halfway through your little session.
Fucking him while he’s on his side and his one leg hooked over your shoulder is a great compromise, with how you can both still see each other Neuvillette can immediately turn his head to hide away into his pillow when he realizes he’s being a little too loud on his own good.
He’s definitely the kind to force himself to be quiet. If you fuck him without anything for him to bite into to hide his loud noises, he will cry and be embarrassed through out, barely even managing to cover his own mouth with his hand without an ounce of struggle while his body jerked up and down, following through every harsh punctuated thrust that you made into him. Weather report: Fontaine has a storm.
Neuvillette cries his heart out every time you go rough, full on sobbing and it is such a turn on. The way he makes garbled noises while he would protest into your roughness, hand gently pushing into yours while he asks for you to be gentler and go a little slower, only to cling helplessly into his pillow when his pleas fell into deaf ears.
His tears are just… divine. He cries so prettily and he does it with unwitting grace and class — somehow, he’s just innately beautiful in every thing that he does. There is no such thing as an unsightly sobbing to this man.
Neuvillette makes this soft noise in between a whimper and a gasp every time you hit his prostate spot on and he just shudders in delight, his breath shaky until he can barely think straight.
Gentle or rough, he’s definitely into breeding. Neuvillette has a breeding kink and anyone who thinks otherwise will sink deeper than Khaenri’ah. Stuff him full of your cum and he’s a happy and satisfied man.
It’s not just the feeling of your hot seed pumping him full that pleases him, but being around the Melusines, treating them like his children despite them being just his subordinates has definitely gotten this old man all too paternal. He likes the premise of being able to build a family with you, and he will nurture your children with all his being.
Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Though it’s rare, only when he’s really tired but still aches to please you, and even you’re too lazy to move a lot.
Bother him when he takes work at home by making him cockwarm you. He could not concentrate at all — squirming and squeezing around your cock so deliciously while you teased him about getting his work done.
Has definitely tried wall sex with you, with his back against the wall while you held him up. May or may not have happened at the opera after a heated trial when he ruled against your client and you were pissed your streak of wins on that week crumbled into dust. It’s neither your fault but the client’s, but you’re a sore loser and Neuvillette is a stoic judge.
Call him daddy while you fuck into him and he will break, he’ll go slack, his mind numbed when a rush of dopamine just infiltrated his brain every time you’d call him that.
And after all that, aftercare is a must. Treat your dragon well. He did so much for you, and you broke his old man back after fucking him into oblivion. Clean him nice and well, kiss his tears away, and wrap him tightly in a blanket while you hold him.
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normansnt · 4 months
Text
The Prince
(Alastor x prince of hell!reader)
"HOLLLLYYY FUCKING SHIT (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER WE ARE VISITING CHARLIEEEE" yelled your dad while bursting into your room.
You looked up at your dad startled.
"Thats great, but why are you yelling?" You asked while raising your eyebrow.
"BECAUSE WE ARE GOING NOW COME OOONNN" he continued yelling while taking your hand and dragging you out of your room and off you guys were to the Hazbin Hotel.
When you arrived your dad almost run in before you told him to tone it down he is still the king of hell who has to keep up a certain image.
This was your relationship in a nutshell. You were not at all like your father and older sister. You were calm and collected and were there to calm them down. And why you stuck with your dad? Because he was broken after your mother left and you kind of got stuck being his mental support.
You never blamed Charlie for leaving you had the chance you do that as well but you decided to stay.
Your dad entered the hotel and immediately hugged Charlie. You just calmly walked in after him.
"OOOHHHHHH YOU BROUGHT (Y/N)" yelled Charlie as well excitedly and gave you the same bone crushing hug your dad gave her earlier.
"Yeah...'m here...sis....cant...breathe" you tried to get a sentence out.
"OH yeah of course sorry"
"Its fine Im happy to see you Charlie" you smiled at her while dusting your button up shirt.
After this encounter Charlie introduced you to the rest of the residents including her girlfriend, who you were delighted to meat since Charlie always rented about her when you guys would talk.
But of course your dad managed to make that encounter awkward as well to which you just sighed a little.
Unbeknownst to you a certain radio demon had his eyes on you from the moment you entered. It was one thing that your attire was something he himself would wear and it suited your figure perfectly, quite old fashioned just like he liked it, but when he saw that seemingly you were the distinguished one in the family you have won his interest.
The way you held yourself with a straight back chin up, truly befitting a prince. He noticed that you seem to either calm down or hint to your father on how to act. It was a sight to behold for sure.
"And this here-" started Charlie nearing the stairs where Alastor appeared. "-oh, this is Alastor our beloved building manager"
"Its a pleasure to meet you sir quite the pleasure" said Alastor while shaking Lucifers hand and wiping it in his coat after.
Not paying a second more of his attention on your father he looked immediately to you.
"And this magnificent creature is the prince of hell himself I'm sure" he said while taking your hand and softly kissing your knuckles.
Your face got a bit read while he straightened back up eye contact never leaving.
"I am, it is a pleasure to meet you sir, I quite enjoy your radio podcast" you managed to get out after re-gaining your composure.
What you said was true, though. You enjoyed his brodcast, his voice, and interestingly enough your taste in music was similar, the jazz part at least.
Alastors eyes lit up at that.
"Indeed? Well I'm honored the prince of hell himself enjoys what I do, and please do call me Alastor." he smiled at you and took one of your hands in both of his while you guys just stared at each other.
"Should we do something ooor...?" Whispered angel to Husk.
However the cat was to stunned to speak. He has never seen Alastor act like this with anyone before. The radio demon was literally flirting with the prince of hell.
"WOOOOWWW ooookkkkk nononono lemme just...squeeze in here" said your father while standing between you and Alastor which was almost impossible thats how close you two stood to each other but he managed.
"If you don't mind I believe my daughter was about to show us the hotel so see ya later" said your dad hastily while pushing you away from the overlord.
"Oh, no, we built the hotel together we should show it together, right Charlie?" Grinned Alastor at the princesse
"...Ok"
"I wouldn't mind at all to show the lovely little prince around" he smiled at you and offered you his arm which you gladly took.
All this while Lucifer was glaring daggers at Alastors back as you two walked off chatting happily.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WOOOOOOWWWW LOOK AT ME POSTING AGAIN YEAAHHHHH WHAT CAN I SAY I HAVE A PROBLEM
And you bitches too I literally uploaded my Hazbin Hotel posts minutes ago and yall are eating it up already.
I mean ofc thank you sm for all the love (🥹🧡) but DAMN yall good? Anyone need a therapist?
Haha, just kidding...we all do.
ANYWAAAYSSS
I HAVE SOOO MANY MORE IDEAS AND I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THEM AND SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS.
I'm also thinking about writing a pt.2 for this so lemme know if yall would be interested😎
I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖
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wholoveseggs · 5 months
Note
HIII 🫶🏼 was wondering if you can make something about how Elijah/reader have been together/married for centuries and shes never felt jealous over Elijah with somebody else before so she doesn’t know how it feels like and she sees hayley with Elijah and she’s experiencing jealously for the first time and it ends with Elijah reassuring her with fluff and smut 😭😭
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Eyes for you.
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18+ ---- {Masterlist}
Amidst the clinking of glasses and strained smiles, you find yourself feeling jealous of the way Hayley is interacting with your husband... Until he shows you exactly why you shouldn't be feeling that way.
~Thanks for the request anon(s) ♡♡ I hope you don't mind me combining the two ideas. I made this as a sort of sequel to Dinner can wait~
~I've gotten sooo many requests in the last few days - I love them all, but it will take me some time to catch up ♡♡ thanks for your patience~
4.1k words - Warnings: smut, drama, oral, semi-public sex, slight dom!elijah...
{Moodboard->}
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It was supposed to be a nice family outing. A dinner where everyone would just get together and enjoy themselves. But as the evening went on, your stomach had been churning, the food on the plate in front of you forgotten.
You hadn't even been able to eat more than a few bites, your appetite gone. Elijah kept a hand on your thigh under the table, his thumb rubbing circles, a small smile on his face. His brown eyes were soft as they stared at you.
But it didn't help.
You could see the way Hayley looked at him. Her beautiful hazel eyes were bright as they stared at your husband. Her plump red lips were curved into a flirty smile, and you knew that Elijah was enjoying her company.
He was always fond of Hayley. Even if he would deny it. You had seen the way his gaze lingered on her during dinner, the way he had leaned a little bit closer to her as she talked, how his own smile widened.
He was handsome, and the women around you knew it, all trying to gain his attention. You usually found it amusing, even a bit of an ego boost for you, knowing that you had what everyone else wanted.
But now, you felt insecure. Hayley was more than just a passing woman who wanted your husband. She was a part of the family, the mother to his beloved niece.
And she was beautiful. Her brown hair had been pulled into a bun, the baby hairs around her hairline curled. Her dark eyeshadow made her eyes stand out.
You shifted in your seat, taking a sip of your wine, trying to focus on the conversations around you. Freya was telling a story about the newest witch she had met. Kol was laughing, his mouth full of food.
"So, Y/n, what are your plans for the weekend?" Rebekah asked.
You swallowed thickly, glancing at her. "Elijah and I are going on a little getaway."
Rebekah raised her brows, smiling softly. "That sounds lovely. Where are you guys going?"
"We're going to this new winery a few hours away. We will leave tomorrow morning." Elijah spoke, his hand moving to the back of your neck, gently squeezing. "I need a break from work, and my darling wife deserves a vacation."
"That sounds so romantic, you guys should bring back some wine for me." Hayley said, smiling sweetly at Elijah.
You clenched your jaw, forcing a smile on your face. "Of course, anything for you, Hayley."
Elijah frowned, turning his head to look at you. He gave you a look, and you sighed, closing your eyes. You took a deep breath, you hated feeling this way, it made you irrational and stupid. You had nothing to be jealous about.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to use the ladies' room." You said, standing up.
"I'll join you," Rebekah said, and you nodded and followed her.
The two of you walked to the restroom, your steps were hurried, and your hands shook.
"What's wrong?" Rebekah asked, frowning.
"Nothing, I'm fine." You said, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were a little glassy.You began to touch up your make-up, trying to distract yourself. 
"You don't seem fine, tell me what's going on." Rebekah said, stepping closer to you.
"It's just-," you took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. "Hayley and Elijah."
"What about them?"
"Hayley is clearly into him, it's driving me crazy. It's ridiculous, I shouldn't be feeling this way." You said, looking at her.
Rebekah raised her brows, smiling slightly. "Well, well, the almighty y/n, is feeling jealousy for the first time in a thousand years."
"Yeah, and I know I'm being irrational, that's why I excused myself. I just need a minute." You said, rolling your eyes.
"Hayley is harmless." Rebekah said, gazing into the mirror. She fixed her dress, making sure it was laying perfectly on her body.
"She's been flirting with him all night and Elijah has done nothing to stop it." You said, lowering your voice.
"He's just being polite," Rebekah said, studying her nails. "But if it makes you feel better, we can always put Hayley in her place. Remind her that Elijah is very much married," she looked at you, raising her brows.
You snorted, shaking your head. "I'm not going to be petty, no matter how much I want to."
"You are so much stronger than me," Rebekah chuckled, linking her arm with yours as you left the bathroom.
As you and Rebekah reached the table, you could see Hayley was giggling, her hands resting on Elijah's bicep. She leaned in close to him, her lips almost brushing against his ear. Elijah's eyes had darkened, his brow furrowed as he whispered something in her ear, his lip curved into a smirk.
Your heart clenched as you watched him. A pang of envy swept through you and you let out a shaky breath. Rebekah gave you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your arm.
Elijah noticed you standing there, and looked at you, his brown eyes worried. He excused himself from Hayley, moving to you, he wrapped an arm around your waist, leading you to your seat.
"Are you alright, my love? You seem flushed," Elijah murmured.
"I'm alright, too much wine," You replied, avoiding his gaze.
Elijah didn't believe you, but wasn't about to start an argument in front of everyone. So he settled for tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss on your cheek.
You smiled at his action, your heart fluttering slightly. No matter how angry and jealous you might be at him, he always seemed to know what to do to make you feel a little bit better.
As dinner went on, you saw that Hayley kept staring at Elijah out of the corner of your eye and it made your stomach turn. The way her eyes gazed at him with such affection. Elijah didn't even seem to notice. Instead he chatted with his brothers and sisters, his hand never leaving yours. His thumb caressed your knuckles, rubbing soothing circles on them.
Klaus brought out his phone and started sharing pictures and videos of his daughter. Elijah was grinning ear to ear, commenting on every single thing he was shown. The sounds of laughter around you made your chest swell, you felt good to see your family enjoying themselves.
Hayley seized this opportunity, shuffling closer to Elijah, leaning into him as she showed him her own videos of Hope. She would poke his shoulder and give him that innocent little smile. You clenched your jaw as you saw her press her breasts against his arm, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
You didn't like feeling this insecure and irrational, but you couldn't help it. The envious feeling was growing as you watched them interact. Elijah's brown eyes were soft as he gazed at Hayley. Smiling as he said something that made her laugh, head tilting back.
You couldn't help but compare yourself to her, you weren't as thin or as beautiful. You were taller, your breasts were bigger and your eyes wider. You usually weren't self conscious about your own looks, but today, you felt inadequate. She seemed like a more fitting partner for your husband.
You wanted to leave the restaurant, but you didn't want to make a scene. It was obvious that Elijah hadn't really noticed what was happening and you didn't want to look like a jealous wife.
"Excuse me, I would like to make a toast," Hayley said, raising her voice slightly. Everyone's heads turned to look at her, and you followed suit.
She stood up, her gaze focused on Elijah. You suddenly had a bad feeling, and you wanted to look anywhere but her, to keep from showing how upset you were.
"I just want to say," Hayley started, her hands clasped together. "Elijah, I've always admired you. You've always been so kind and generous to me and my daughter,"
You looked up at Elijah, and you could see his surprise, his brows raised. Hayley continued, "Over the past couple of years, I've grown to love and respect you, and I just wanted you to know that." She took a breath, and then reached a hand to touch Elijah's cheek. Your own heart started pounding.
Elijah stared up at her with confusion in his brown eyes, and Hayley laughed nervously. You were aware of the way Freya, Kol, Klaus, and Rebekah were watching you, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Elijah, to see how he responded.
She pulled back her hand slowly, then grabbed a hold of the champagne in front of her, swirling it around as she took a breath and held it out to him.
"To Elijah." Hayley said, smirking down at him.
He clinked his glass against hers. His own brown eyes were glazed with surprise as he held her gaze. He smiled softly, murmuring "thanks" under his breath.
You clenched your jaw, your fingers gripped the table cloth as you fought the urge to say something snarky, or throw something. Elijah turned to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Are you okay?" He whispered.
"I'm fine." You forced a smile as you took a deep breath.
He kissed your cheek, lingering his lips on your skin, his hand patted your side. You wished you could simply pull his face to yours and make him forget about everyone but you.
Your emotions threatened to get the better of you and you just wanted to leave the restaurant already, and be alone with your husband.
The end of the night couldn't come soon enough, and you all got into your respective cars. You and Elijah left the restaurant, the car ride quiet as you stared out the window.
"You're awfully quiet, what's wrong, love?" Elijah asked, his brows furrowing.
"Nothing." You said.
"Y/n." He frowned, his hand squeezing your thigh. You sighed, shrugging your shoulders.
"I don't want to argue in the car, you should focus on the road." You said, keeping your eyes forward.
You could feel his gaze boring into you, his hand moved to yours, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand softly.
"When we get home, you are going to tell me why you're so upset." He murmured against your skin.
When the two of you finally returned home, you immediately went to the bedroom. Your shoulders were tense, your chest was tight and your stomach churning.
Elijah followed behind you, watching as you undressed, taking off your dress, throwing it into the laundry basket. Your jaw was clenched, and he stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Elijah-" You started, but he cut you off with a kiss to your neck, his arms tightening their hold. His hands pressed against your stomach, and you felt his nose bumping your ear. His lips were soft as they explored the skin of your neck, nibbling it softly.
He turned you around and your hands came to his jaw. His lips were upturned, his brown eyes were warm. He cocked his head, gazing down at you.
"Tell me what's wrong." He whispered.
"It's stupid, I'm just feeling insecure." You said, looking into his dark eyes. Elijah frowned, bringing his thumb up to stroke your cheek.
"Why?" He asked, his brows furrowed.
You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back your emotions. He could always get a sense of whether or not you were telling the truth.
"I just-," you sucked in a breath, closing your eyes. "Hayley clearly likes you,"
"I think she actually used the word love." Elijah teased, his brows raised. You glared at him and he chuckled softly.
"Is that why you've been so tense all evening? You were jealous?" He asked, pulling you flush against him.
You let out a shaky breath, avoiding his gaze. "Well you didn't exactly try to dissuade her." You mumbled, your hands pressed against his chest.
"Do you know what I was thinking about all night? How much I wish we didn't have to sit through dinner at the restaurant, and how much I wish we were alone, right here in our bed." Elijah whispered, and you felt your heart flutter.
"I've only ever had eyes for you, my love," He murmured, resting his forehead against yours. "My darling, you were the only woman I saw. Hayley could have been naked on top of me, and I wouldn't have been interested."
You smiled slightly at that, your hands resting on his shoulders. Elijah gazed into your eyes, a smirk pulling at his lips.
"Do you need me to show you? Remind you how much I love you?" He murmured, his face inches from yours.
"How would you show me?" You whispered. His brown eyes flickered with lust as he grinned, pulling back slightly. He brought his hands up to his tie, yanking it loose before pulling it off of his neck.
He smirked, wrapping the tie around his fist, slowly backing you up against the wall. Your breath was caught in your throat as you gazed up at him.
Elijah easily pinned you up against the wall, wrapping the tie around your wrists, and securing them above your head. You sucked in a sharp breath as he put his hand against your neck, his touch gentle.
"I don't like seeing you upset," Elijah whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "Not when I can make you feel better." He punctuated his sentence with a kiss to your jaw, then your neck.
"You're all I've ever wanted. You're the only woman I've ever loved and the only woman I've been attracted to. You're the love of my life," Elijah spoke, his tone soft and sincere. His breath fanned against your lips, and you parted them as he pressed his against yours.
He kissed you gently, his tongue swiping over yours slowly. You gasped, your wrists straining against the tie. His hands tightened around your wrists as he pushed you against the wall.
He broke the kiss, his eyes looking down at you. "Do you remember our first time together?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. You smiled slightly, a fond memory resurfacing.
"On a blanket under the stars. The only light was the moon, and you were so beautiful." Elijah smiled, his hand tilting your chin so you would look up at him. "How old were we? Seventeen?"
"It was a beautiful night, after hours of you telling me about the constellations. I had to shut you up somehow." You giggled before he pressed his lips against yours.
"It's a beautiful night tonight as well, we should go out, like we did back then. Make love under the stars." He spoke, brown eyes filled with affection.
Before you could answer he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your tied wrists around his neck. He walked past the bed and grabbed a blanket on the way, then carried you outside.
The cool night air seeped into your skin, but you didn't mind, Elijah kept you warm, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck. He set you down and laid out the blanket on the grass.
The backyard was illuminated by moonlight, and you could see the stars glistening in the sky. Elijah pulled you down with him, laying with you, his lips reconnecting with yours. Your body melted as he deepened the kiss, and you let out a small moan.
Elijah chuckled softly, hands roaming your body, fumbling with the lacy straps of your bra. "My darling, I don't think we'll need this tonight." His hands moved to the front clasp, expertly undoing it.
You loved it when Elijah undressed you. His large hands touched every inch of your skin. His lips always followed a path that was outlined by his fingertips. You watched him take off your panties, enjoying how his eyes darkened with lust and his smile curled.
Your hands ached to feel him, but they were still bound. Elijah kept you pressed against the soft blanket, spreading your legs for him.
He trailed a line of kisses down your stomach, not letting his lips miss any patch of skin. Your thighs trembled with excitement as you felt his breath ghost over your pussy. He grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he licked a stripe up.
You moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt his tongue, circling your clit before slipping inside you. Your breath hitched in your throat, and your hands trembled in their restraints as you ran them clumsily through his hair.
Elijah could stay in between your thighs all day. He remembered that first night together so vividly, remembering the way you had moaned and gripped his hair. Everything about you was intoxicating, and he never wanted the moment to end.
Your hips jerked up as you felt a coil grow in your core, your orgasm building. Elijah was coaxing it out of you, his lips sucking on your clit. A guttural moan escaped you, your back arching off of the ground.
His strong hands pressed against your hips to keep them still as his tongue moved quicker, coaxing every bit of pleasure from you. You could feel tears forming in your eyes, and you moaned Elijah's name desperately.
Elijah pulled away from you, a wicked smile on his face as he leaned up to kiss you deeply. He was still fully clothed, his hair messy and face glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.
"I love you so much, darling." He whispered against your lips. His fingers ran over your breasts, descending further down your body. He dipped a finger inside you, and you let out a soft gasp.
"Tell me about our first night together, Love." He said, slowly pushing in another finger, smiling as you moaned.
You trembled under his hands, and Elijah's eyes darkened as he watched you, loving the way you gave in to his touch.
"We had both snuck out, you told me to meet you in the clearing..." you said, cheeks red. Elijah pumped his fingers in and out of you, his forehead pressed against yours.
"You had stolen some mead from the cellars, and you brought candles and blankets. Always such a romantic." You moaned. Elijah had added a third finger, rubbing your clit with his thumb.
"Go on." He murmured, speeding up his movements. You cried out, squirming under him. He pressed down on your stomach with his other hand.
"You had led me over to the blankets. We'd barely drank the mead. And you told me that-"
"I told you that I had loved you for a very long time. I could hardly believe how lucky I was, finally being able to hold you in my arms." Elijah finished, his mouth twitching into a smile.
He kept fingering you, holding your gaze as you gasped. "You were so timid when I took your dress off, and I kept kissing you, murmuring about how beautiful you were." He said, feeling your walls clenching around his fingers.
You sucked in a breath and threw your head back, moaning as you climaxed. Elijah chuckled as he pulled out his wet fingers. He kissed your lips softly, brushing the stray hairs off of your face. He undid his tie from around your wrists, freeing your hands, and pulling you to his chest.
"I remember the way you looked at me when I made love to you." Elijah smirked, eyes falling to your naked figure, one of his hands tangled in your hair. He pecked your lips again. "I remember how tight and warm you felt, and how amazing it felt being inside you for the first time."
Your hands began to unbutton his shirt. You panted against his lips, sitting up. Elijah sat up with you, shrugging his shirt off and tossing it aside. His hands rubbed your arms gently, encouraging you.
You smiled, kissing his chest. His heartbeat quickened, his breath hitching as you moved over him. Your hands played with his belt, while your lips explored his skin. Elijah stared up at you through dark eyelashes, his hand brushed through your hair and then guided your head up. He pressed his lips against yours, smiling as you moaned into the kiss.
Soon you were both naked, the rest of his clothing discarded somewhere in the backyard. Elijah hovered over you, gazing down at you with affection glinting in his eyes.
"I love you, I wish you could see yourself the way I do." He murmured, cupping your cheek. You reached a hand up, intertwining your fingers with his.
He kissed your lips, lining himself up, before slowly easing in, swallowing your gasps. His hips moved slowly, his length filling you in the best way. You curled a hand around his bicep, your legs wrapping around his waist.
"You're so beautiful, my darling." Elijah cooed, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
You arched your back, biting your lip. Your nails dug into his arms as he picked up the pace, his groans were muffled. He pulled back and kissed you again, his tongue battling yours as you moaned against his mouth.
You didn't need anyone else when you had Elijah. The way he touched you and praised you made you feel euphoric. No one could compare to your husband. He was all you needed, even after one thousand years of marriage.
"Elijah." You gasped his name, hands gripping his arms. He pounded into you faster, and your head spun as you neared your climax. Elijah's hands found yours as you tensed, coming undone. He gasped, grunting your name as he buried himself deep inside, filling you with his cum, collapsing onto you.
You were both covered in sweat, gasping for breath. You sighed softly as he pulled out, laying down beside you and bringing your body against his. You pressed a hand over his racing heart, feeling comforted at the sound.
Elijah's fingers slipped through your hair, he gazed down at you, his eyes glinting.
"I really mean it, you know. You're the only woman I ever want to be with." He spoke, his smile made you melt.
"I know." You whispered, kissing his chest softly.
He pulled the blanket over you, his gaze loving as he ran his hands over your body. Elijah was always so intimate after the two of you had sex, murmuring endearing words, and worshiping every bit of skin he could get his hands on. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you snuggled closer to him, enjoying his affection.
"I'm sorry I got jealous earlier." You said softly, playing with the blanket.
Elijah let out a soft laugh, kissing the top of your head. "You had no reason to be jealous, I'll never be interested in Hayley," He moved one hand down your body, squeezing your ass. "Because I have you."
Your laugh made his heart stutter. Elijah let his hands brush over you, taking care to touch you in all the right places.
"What else do you remember about our first time together?'' He asked, nipping at your ear.
You blushed as memories flooded back, suddenly feeling shy, though the sensation didn't come very often anymore.
"How clumsy you were and how sweet," you spoke, remembering how desperate Elijah had been to please you.
"You kept apologizing whenever you thought you did something wrong." You said. Elijah's face was pressed against your neck. You turned towards him and lifted his head up, smiling at the bashful look on his face. "Not that I knew any better," you teased.
Elijah chuckled and pressed his lips against yours. One of your hands moved down his sculpted chest and stomach. Your hands always gravitated towards him, no matter how many times you had explored his body over the centuries.
"So, about our trip tomorrow." He murmured against your mouth. You let out a soft sigh, hands wrapped around his neck.
"Yes, my love?" You asked, lips ghosting over his.
"Don't bother bringing many clothes," Elijah teased, smirking against your mouth. You giggled softly, kissing his smile.
"Any reason why?" You whispered, one of your hands moving through his hair.
"Because we're not going to leave the bed."
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{Moodboard->}
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