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#x: heart laid bare
pinkfey · 1 year
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tagged by @shadowglens @risingsh0t @aartyom @devilbrakers and @druidgroves make some couples in this neat lil picrew !! tysm my loves mwah mwah mwah !!!!
tagging everyone bc i made far too many n this does not need to be longer than it already is 💕
🌙⭐️ salylia + tenn (morrowind) 🪐☄️ ilya + kinasi (star wars) 🔥🍂 thea + august (fable) ☀️🪵 corintha + blackwall (dai) 🎀✂️ cath + butch (fo3)
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goldenworldsabound · 8 months
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If I could just. Focus on one fave for 2 seconds-
Me Monday when I finished Tensura rewatch with friend: Claaaaaymaaaaaan 😭😭😭😭
Me after any new ff7r news (which is often right now): RUFUUUUUUSSSSS AAAAHHHHH also in an interview it was confirmed he's getting new content in ff7r so AAAAAH EXTRA HARD
Me when watched more G Wing Thursday and got to see Treize finally: 😭 Treize.......huge plot and ship developments...waaaaaa
Me when binges reborn as a vending machine: FUCK FUCK FUCK
Me when Fitzy birthday tomorrow: 😭❤️💕
Me when also new Clayman REVENGE chapter tomorrow: MY HUSBAND MY BELOVED CLAYMAN AAAAAAH
Yeah so basically. I'm a mess.
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gojonanami · 4 months
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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞
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❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞
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✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks
✧ wc: 8,180
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Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—
This was a curse — literally. 
Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them. 
The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents. 
But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him. 
It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow. 
He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you— 
He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said. 
“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite  — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—” 
“That was years ago—” 
“She has a key to your apartment—“ 
“So do you!” he glares. 
“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,” 
If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—” 
“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,” 
Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,” 
He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins. 
And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again. 
Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout? 
You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about? 
He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time. 
You: Let’s keep it that way! :) 
He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table. 
And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again. 
Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for  him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything. 
Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway.  And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night. 
“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,” 
“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched. 
“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,” 
“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh. 
“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,” 
He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,” 
“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,” 
He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned. 
And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him. 
You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own. 
At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it. 
“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,” 
He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?” 
He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch. 
But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance. 
But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine. 
One he couldn’t dare to cross. 
But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t. 
Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem. 
Or at least, not his main problem. 
He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out. 
He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut. 
It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded. 
That should have been his first clue. 
Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold? 
Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you. 
….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—
This wasn’t helping. 
The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on. 
Fuck. 
No, he couldn’t. 
But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand. 
He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit. 
“Suguru, please—“ 
“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. 
“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does. 
Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass. 
You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now. 
He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold. 
He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it. 
What the fuck is going on? 
He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him. 
He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties— 
He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked. 
He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up. 
“It’s not like you to call—“ 
“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” 
Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“ 
“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?” 
She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?” 
“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought. 
“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on. 
He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“ 
And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice. 
Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?” 
“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,” 
“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,” 
His phone buzzed with texts from you: 
You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me! 
You: are you home? 
His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it. 
“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter. 
“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,” 
Another knock. 
“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight. 
“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?” 
He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“ 
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,” 
“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe. 
Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers. 
“Suguru—“ 
“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“ 
Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“ 
“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you. 
“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“ 
He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck. 
He was so fucked. 
He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop.  He couldn’t. Not until you agreed. 
“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“ 
But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?” 
And he can’t hold back. 
His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt. 
And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips. 
“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” 
And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse. 
“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork. 
You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body. 
“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,”  And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides. 
Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time. 
He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath. 
“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly. 
You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”
When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs. 
“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.
“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?” 
And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,” 
“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,” 
And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes. 
The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt. 
Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth. 
“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts. 
Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again. 
And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them. 
In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,” 
He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care. 
You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,” 
Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds. 
“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan. 
“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches. 
He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him. 
Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now. 
No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it. 
Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart. 
“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do. 
As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers. 
Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would. 
He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure. 
“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—” 
“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,” 
And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips, 
Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you. 
“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,” 
“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,” 
And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—” 
You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt. 
But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—” 
“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—” 
And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,” 
And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.” 
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“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,” 
How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you. 
He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water. 
“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?” 
“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment. 
“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you— 
And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you. 
“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little. 
You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip,  “Sugu?” 
“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water. 
“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you? 
“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?” 
And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,” 
“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“ 
And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?” 
And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off. 
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“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys. 
Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. 
“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,” 
He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no, 
He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies. 
Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera. 
“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.” 
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✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing
✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72
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sttoru · 4 months
Text
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji witnesses his son’s first steps and it nearly makes the grown man cry.
wc. 1k
tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama.’ life if gege just gave us what we wanted. ending is a bit rushed if you couldn't tell.
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“gumi, look here,” you coo at your child who’s sitting in his playpen. you’re laying against some stuffed animals, too tired to move after doing all kinds of chores. the baby looks up at you with curious eyes and you take your chance to make a silly face.
megumi giggles and responds by throwing a small toy your way. it accidentally hits your head, though luckily it isn’t anything too heavy.
toji, who laid lazily on the opposite side of the playpen, watches the scene unfold. he grins once he sees you rub the spot on your forehead, “oi, megumi, careful with y’r mama.”
you chuckle, dropping your dramatic act. you ruffle megumi’s hair a bit before standing up. a yawn escapes your lips and you stretch your arms above your head—clearly in need of a break.
“i’m gonna take a quick nap, honey,” your eyes meet toji’s. your husband nods and sits up with a groan. he’s also sleepy, but he knows that you did most of the work today. he’ll gladly watch over megumi while you rest and regain your energy.
megumi starts to fuss the moment you step out of the playpen. his tiny hands reach out to you—the little boy clearly too attached to his mother. toji shakes his head and effortlessly picks his son up and puts him on his lap, “naw, y’re stuck with me buddy. mama’s gotta rest.”
megumi squirms around and whimpers. he’s clearly not interested in his dad at the moment. toji sighs and tries his best to keep the baby still, but to no avail.
“mama! mama!” the baby’s cries for you breaks your heart. you stop a a couple steps away and turn around with a pout. you notice how megumi is kicking his legs, thrashing around in toji’s arms in attempt to free himself.
you sigh and crouch down, “gumi, mama’s sleepy. . papa’s gonna play with you, okay?”
megumi, of course, does not understand what you mean. he thinks you’re leaving him alone and it causes him to wail loudly. you’re about to console your son, but backtrack when you notice how megumi’s starting to stand up on his own.
his chubby legs are barely holding his body weight up. the balance is hard to find for the baby, yet he still does his utmost best. he nearly trips from just standing.
even toji looks on with wide eyes and a hint of a prideful grin on his lips. he’s silently encouraging his son in his head.
“ma..ma,” megumi babbles. he almost topples over, but toji’s quick reflexes come in handy. a big hand keeps the baby standing straight. the dark-haired man carefully lets go again, however keeps his hand near his son’s body. just in case.
neither toji nor you could believe what was happening. you both watch in awe as megumi’s left foot moves forward—the right one copying that same movement.
your precious boy, taking his first steps right in front of you both to witness. it’s a heartwarming sight. you hold your breath and toji’s lips part slightly. your husband has yet to grasp why this scene in front of him makes him feel so. . . giddy on the inside.
“c’mon! come to mama!” you squeal excitedly and open your arms, encouraging megumi to your best ability. the tiny boy giggles and moves his limbs as fast as they could go. his chubby hands flail around as he quickly walks over to you.
toji stares at his family and that’s when it hits him; how much he loves this peaceful life. his son just achieved another great milestone that he had the honour of witnessing firsthand. it made him happy that he chose this path instead of the more ‘darker’ one.
it also nearly causes your husband to shed some tears from pure joy. but, toji didn’t want to seem too ‘soft’. even if he secretly is for his wife and child.
toji coughs subtly. totally not to get rid of the irritating lump in his throat. a ghost of a smile appears on his face while he got up, immediately moving towards megumi and you.
“good job, kiddo,” toji says as he puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he stares down at megumi in your arms—the little boy getting drowned in kisses and compliments.
your ears twitch. there’s no denying it; the faint crack in toji’s voice. you give your kid a break from your overwhelming affection and tilt your head back. your eyes meet your husband’s.
you grin when you see how he quickly avoids your gaze. something he never does unless he’s. . . “gonna cry?”
toji rolls his eyes at your question. he ignores your teasing by trying to change the subject. he focuses on megumi who’s still going absolutely wild in your embrace—cutely demanding more praise and kisses.
“daddy can also give ya some kisses, y’know,” toji pokes megumi’s cheek, fascinated by the plush fat. the baby stops babbling the moment his dad talks to him. he looks up at toji and then back at the finger still prodding at his cheek.
megumi opens his mouth and doesn’t waste a single second. he goes for a playful bite, though his little baby teeth do no real damage, “yumm.”
you giggle at the way megumi frowns at toji, his teeth holding tightly onto toji’s fingertip. it’s time for your husband to take over the dramatics now.
“hey, that ain’t so nice now,” toji hisses and leans forward until his face is right in front of megumi—a similar frown on both the dad and son’s faces. they really do look alike now that you see them both from up close again.
megumi only bites down more on the finger in his mouth and toji reacts to that by feigning his anger. it’s amusing to see how neither of them gives up first.
but, it’s also rather cute to see how the father-son dynamic plays out in cozy family moments like these.
your eyes focus back on toji’s face and you can’t help but smile to yourself. he’s a good husband and father; always there for the both of you. his own way of showing support for megumi’s first steps is rather heartwarming. plus, the playful banter between the two never fails to make any moment all the more precious.
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oceantornadoo · 3 months
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bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)
honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.
“you ate my last cookie?”
soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.
“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.
“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.
“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.
you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”
he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.
finally you were at peace, and all because of him.
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blondedmuse · 5 months
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MISERY BUSINESS
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felix catton x reader
synopsis. ꩜ based off of this request.
author’s note. ∿ i need this man so bad it’s not even funny. smut (fingering, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, praise, marking, voyeurism I guess idk) it's been a while since I wrote something on this account and its not proofread so be nice, also a bit of a rushed ending??
word count. ⨾ 2.7k
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The harsh thud of the car door closing awoke you from your mid-day reverie by the lake. The sun was beaming down on you almost bare body, only covered by a bikini. It was hotter than usual and everyone else at saltburn seemed to share your complaints. The heat aside the weather was pleasant—Felix on the other hand looked less than.
He looked annoyed, almost upset, even from far away. When he exited the car Oliver and Felix went their separate ways, Oliver looking just as unhappy. You wondered what happened in just few hours that could’ve soured their moods but it was only a few moments later when Felix approached you, grinning in attempt to hide the scowl he was dressed in minutes earlier.
Once he reached your figure he towered over your body as you laid on the dock. Having well acknowledge the heat now and your lack of clothing he discarded his shirt and quickly lowered his frame over yours so that his was barely hovering over yours.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
He shook his head with a small grin. “nothing.”
You scoffed. “Liar.” He raised his brows.
“What’s wrong?” You prodded again. He dropped his head in hesitation, his lip between his teeth as he contemplated telling you what happened on his and Oliver’s road trip, what he felt, what the truth was—but he couldn’t. Not yet anyways.
He looked up at you. “I- Oliver just said something and it hurt me more than I thought it would.”
You sat up, the two of you adjusting your bodies as you did so. You stared intently at his face, watching how his eyes glossed over and how he could barely hold your gaze. It was a different demeanor than what other people knew, one of the more human parts that made people fall in love with him.
You lifted his face towards yours. “I’m sorry.” The silence that followed after your statement determined he wasn’t interested in sharing anything deeper than the surface of the matter.
He looked back at Saltburn then back at you. “Don’t be.”
You scrunched your brows. “Hm?”
“I don’t know,” He said earnestly. “It’s not your fault, I should’ve listened to you earlier. You kept saying you had a bad feeling about him and I didn’t really take it to heart…til’ now I guess.”
“Oh, Felix,” You sighed, cupping his face, your hand over his jaw subliminally believing that it would release the tension he held there.
“He’s out tomorrow.” His hand caressed yours as it rested on his cheek.
“Really?”
“Really.” He confirmed. “Maybe now I can get you, alone, yeah?” His body pushed yours back down on the doc so he was hovering over you once again.
"Felix," You laughed. "Always distracting me, aren't you."
"No 'm not," he mumbled, nipping at your earlobe. "You weren't doing anything important anyways."
"I was going to ask another question," You giggled.
"Okay," He answered, pushing himself so that he kneeled above you, a knee on either side of your torso. "What?"
When he was playful like this he was such a beautiful sight in front of you, you almost felt bad asking him a question as if you were ruining the mood.
"You're not really kicking him out are you? I feel bad."
He sighed. "I am kicking him out and you shouldn't feel bad, he’s in the business of misery it’s almost like his job to make people feel bad." He crawled back over you once again, something heavier within him now. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw, his clouded eyes. His mouth made its way back to your body, this time trailing down your stomach, beginning to leave marks you knew you’d have to hide at the party tonight.
“Felix,” You frowned. “I just-”
He cut you off. “Enough, alright. He was a creep anyways, you said it yourself,” He told you and you nodded, internally agreeing.
“He’s going home after the party.”
The feel of his voice as he mumbled into your skin was enough for you to stop thinking about the situation for the moment. It wasn’t until nightfall you were reminded of Oliver's unrelenting presence—it was his birthday after all. Still, no matter where you were in Saltburn, you couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes upon you, you couldn’t help but feel that you were never alone.
"Can we go somewhere a little more private?" You asked Felix and he hardly registered the question. His hands up your dress the lights were dim, colored strobe lights bleeding in from the outside. The room was close to empty but the music could be heard throughout the house. You could ask him anything to anyone and it wouldn’t really mean anything—and it didn't help that the two of you were getting dizzy on champagne.
So, you didn't ask you question again but your eyes flickered to the maze that could be seen from the window and he understood what you wanted.
"Whatever you want, angel." He grinned, pulling his hands away to grab yours, taking you to the garden.
You scrunched your brows together. "I should be calling you that y'know."
He laughed with you. "You have wings too."
"But I'm a fairy"
"Close enough." You laughed to yourself as you and Felix walked through the house and towards the maze. There was a bottle of champagne in your left, Felix’s hand in your right, grounding you with each step. The more the time passed the less ideal it felt to walk in heels—you thought of ditching them all together. Still, they held the integrity of your costume, matching the chosen Midsummer Night's Dream theme. You'd dressed up as a fairy, donning flowers in your hair and a frilly slip dress, the costume obviously incomplete without wings.
Your heels pierced through the dirt once you’d made it to the grass, your feet sinking slightly with each step. You groaned to yourself, not going unnoticed by Felix.
“You okay?” He asked, stopping to turn to you.
“My heels,” You answered.
He furrowed his brows. “What about them?”
“Well…” You hesitated. “They’re killing my feet and they keep sinking into the dirt. They’re gonna get dirty.”
“We’ll we can’t have that know can we,” Felix replied, picking you in on fell swoop, your body now in his arms, your legs dangling from his grasp.
"Felix," You giggled his named through broken laughs, surprised with the immediacy of his action.
"What? You know I'd do anything for my best girl," He told you, returning the wide lipped smile on your face.
"I didn't ask you anything."
"You didn't have to."
You went limp in his arms as you sighed, comparable to an act of defiance as if you were annoyed, as if he did something wrong; but you knew he couldn't if he tried. He shook his head but the smirk on his lips was undeniable as he carried you the rest of the way to the center of the maze.
"You're insufferable, won't even let me carry you," He carped, putting you down and letting you lean against the cold metal of the statue as you put the bottle of champagne on the ground beside you.
"I did and you love me," You retorted, inching your face towards his, leaving a sliver of space between your lips. The bronze on your back that chilled your skin was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Felix's body, from the warmth of the air around you. It was intoxicating, his breath on your skin and the breeze of the wind. Looking up at him you could see that carnal glimmer in his eyes when his hands roamed your body only moments earlier, and this morning on the dock. It was something you craved and that was something he knew and savored the fact.
"Well I can't deny that," He smirked before closing the gap between the two of you. You could feel the indent of his grin as he kissed you, his lips turned up into a wicked smile, something more depraved, but still, nonetheless, Felix.
"Why don't I finished what I started earlier, love?" He asked against you not bothering to pull away and you only moaned in approval. His lips traveled from yours to the lobe of your ear so he knew you could hear him clearly.
"You need to use your words, darling."
"Yes," You keened, wanting—needing more than what was being given.
"Good girl," He hummed, his hands drawing down the straps of your dress before they traced down the rest of your body all the way to your thighs. He hooked his hands under them, lifting you to sit on the base of the statue.
"This okay?" He asked, looking into your eyes for conformation, the raise of his eyebrows encouraging it verbally as well.
"Yeah," You sighed breathelessly. "But I still need you."
He smirked again. "Let me fix that then."
Felix's hands gently lowered the front of your dress, exposing your breasts and taking one of them into his mouth, moaning around it.
"You're beautiful, darling" He mumbled, groaning as his tongue slid over your hard nipple. His words were genuine but you couldn't help but feel a little cheesy, kicking your foot playfully at his leg and you felt his erection, hard as you did so.
"And you know that already," He chuckled, sucking your nipple more aggressively. "But it's true." His words made you ache with impatience, whine with desire. Felix pulled back before lowering himself to his knees, his eyes not daring to leave yours. Only when he licked an agonizingly slow, sloppy stripe against your clothed cunt his eyes focused on the sight in front of him.
You breath hitched in anticipation as he pulled down your panties with his teeth and taking them off, shooting you a wink as he pocketed them. Immediately after his gaze moved back to your wet pussy, wasting no time in tasting you.
He dropped his head and his tongue slithered to your clit, flicking the pearl a few times before wrapping his lips around it. Your core was hot against his face, your scent, heady and electrifying; he could spend hours between your legs. Your hand went to claw at his hair, your fingers entangling with his brown locks.
"Ri-Right there," You breathed, attempting your best to string a coherent thought together, but it was hard when one of his hands massaged the outside of your thigh while the other came up to your empty hand. Your fingers interlocking, his thumb kneading the side of your palm as he sucked harder at your clit. You squeezed it as you released strangled moans, strained from the attempt to stay quiet.
"You can be louder, love. No one else is going to hear you except me." You didn't believe him, swearing you heard something in the bushes move along with the fact that there was a full blown party happening in his house right now; but you couldn't help yourself either.
He slipped two fingers into you, eliciting a lewd moan with ease. Your legs pressed together and he almost felt suffocated at the momentary feeling of being entirely enveloped by you—but it was exactly what he wanted.
"Oh God, Felix," You fingers digging deeper into his scalp and he groaned.
His movements were mindless and uncalculated, but they had you reeling each time. He knew your body like a book, where to touch to have your head spinning. The longer he spent between you legs, the louder your moans got, your hips helplessly bucking up to meet his fingers and mouth.
"Atta' girl," he murmured against you core. "Cum for me, love, I can feel you squeezing me."
Your movements got sloppier, raunchier, as your orgasm approached swiftly. It struck you like a bolt of lightning, your body overtaken with rapture and relief. Felix watched as you come down from your high, his fingers still working you over.
"You did so well f'me," He coaxed, finally removing his fingers from your core and scaling up your body, his moving to cling to yours and swallowing any soft moans you had left.
"Need you," You whispered as his lips nipped at yours.
"Need me or my cock?" He chuckled, drunk on you.
"You know what I mean," You replied, hands already to undo the buckle of his belt.
He stopped you before you could go any further. "I know, I just want to hear you say it, darling."
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, the smile on your lips indicating otherwise. His brows darted up, goading you on.
"Please?" He pressed and you exhaled in pleasure, in desire.
"Need you inside me, Felix." The corners of his mouth turned up into that smug smirk you've known for so long and he nodded in thanks.
"As you wish, my love."
He was rock hard, heavy and hot in your hands, precum dripping from his tip. You were just as wet and desperate as he reached down as he lined himself up with your entrance, sheathing himself inside you without another moment of hesitation. His arms caged your body under him as he hissed at the feeling. He gave you a a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you.
"You're so tight," He praised as he kissed you, moaning into your mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips started slow, gently rolling into yours, your clit brushing up into his pelvic bone at just the right angle. Felix tuned into how your moans falter when he hit just right spot, the sensation going straight to your core.
"Feels so good," You keened as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.
"Yeah? Tell me about it," He asked as he increased his pace, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless, evoking obscene noises from you. You wrapped your legs around his torso, heels digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper as his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly.
You were sure your nails were going to leave a mark as they clawed into his shoulders while his hand slowly travelled to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit to help you reach your climax. You clenched around him in a manner so desperate, cunt fluttering around his cock. You didn’t have time to tell him you were cumming, screaming and sobbing as ecstasy hit you like a brick wall. You arched your back as his name fell from your lips again and again like a hopeless prayer. He followed suit seconds later, soaked with you as buried his head into the crook of your neck. He came with a strident cry as he bottomed out, filling you to the brim. You went limp under him as he panted weakly with his voice hoarse in your ear.
Still hazy from your climax your eyes widened as you saw Oliver walk into the maze. Felix didn't hear him, but he took note of your expression.
"What? Are you okay? What's-"
You interrupted him. "Oliver." Felix's head whipped around to the man standing behind him.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Felix exclaimed and you pulled your legs from his torso and fixed your dress. Felix pulled up his trousers, buckling up his belt before fully turning to face Oliver.
"What are you doing here, mate? I mean, really?" You didn't say anything, composing yourself as Felix stood in front of you. Oliver opened his mouth to speak but Felix cut him off before he could explain himself.
"Actually I don't wanna fucking know, I've seen enough." He sighed and looked back to check on you.
“I think you should go,” You said to Oliver. “Before you do anything more to embarrass yourself.” The words were harsh as they came out of your mouth but you didn’t know what else to say. You watched as he walked away with his shoulders slumped, no doubt some guilt weighing them down.
“Are you alright?” Felix asked you, turning back around. You nodded still processing what had just happened as it seemed the champagne had worn off a while ago. You grabbed the bottle off the ground and held it up, offering it to Felix with a smile he didn't hesitate to reciprocate back.
"To Oliver's fucking party!" You laughed confused as ever, taking a swig of the bottle before he grabbed it from you.
"To Oliver's stupid fucking party."
5K notes · View notes
surftrips · 5 months
Text
ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍
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You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 
But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 
So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 
One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.
“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 
“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 
“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 
Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 
“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 
Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 
“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 
“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.
“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.
“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.
The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 
“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 
“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 
“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 
He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 
“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.
“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.
“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 
“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 
Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 
Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 
“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 
“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 
“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”
Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 
“Thank you!” Luke cut in.
“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 
That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 
Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 
Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  
In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.
You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 
“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 
Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.
After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 
Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 
“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 
“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 
“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 
“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 
Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 
“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.
“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 
By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 
As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 
Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 
“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 
Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 
“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”
He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 
“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 
4K notes · View notes
archonsabyss · 4 months
Text
╰─..✶. [ Artist, and their Muse ]
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❒ pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader
❒ genre: smut [nsfw 18+]! fluff! romance
❒ warnings: shy virgin reader! first time sex! softdom rafayel! fingering! vaginal sex! unprotected sex! nudity! teasing! orgasm denial! vague mention of blood!
❒ word count: 4.5k
─❒ authors note: when the words keep flowing you end with a 4k+ fic. anyways, enjoy soft dom rafayel. smut took 10yrs of my life to write. It was so hard and frustrating. Hurt my wrists trying to finish this with the way I'm keeping my phone hah. Enjoy 💜
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Amidst the quiet solitude of his art studio, you found yourself unexpectedly forced backwards as Rafayel approached with an unreadable glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but feel flustered and surrender under the look he gave you as he gradually closed the distance, compelling you to place a hand on his chest in an attempt to maintain a level of distance that was not merely enough to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"You're so close" Your gaze avoids meeting his, and the flames of desire surge as soon as he steps near. The moment felt strangely intimate with your fingers delicately pressing against the cotton material of his shirt and his round beady eyes seeking yours. Rafayel didn't beckon you solely to fetch his favourite dinner, especially when he had a personal chef at his disposal and a perfectly functioning phone to order it himself. The evidence of his little white lie became apparent as he nudged you backward while striding ahead.
"Close?" He queries, seemingly not understanding what you meant and his brows furrowed in contemplation, his gaze dancing over your countenance absorbing every nuance as if seeking inspiration to craft a portrait of your essence. There was a common misconception about Rafayel's passionate character– it wasn't easy to navigate, leading most people to misread his character or feel inundated by his eccentric personality. Meeting up with him as often as you did, led you to such a conclusion. Time with Rafayel was a constant experience in itself, particularly for someone like you who normally shied away and often felt nervous around such bright personalities. You were a stark contrast to his entire existence and at times you left torn between the desire to strangle him and the impulse to pinch his cheeks, yet despite the unfamiliarity of it; his spirited flirting and teasing with seemingly effortless wit, he remained easy-going which rendered any time spent together devoid of awkward tension, and as time passed you came to accept that it was the undeniable allure about him.
"Do you hate me?" His sudden question takes you by surprise, but the genuineness in it absolutely baffles you. There were only a few rare instances when Rafayel's witty persona faded away completely, unveiling a calmer and more serious demeanour beneath. His lips didn't form their usual smile rather they grew more serious, and his shoulders deflated rather than puffed up, contrasting with the usual clingy sassiness of his character. This was one of those nights where he laid himself utterly bare without restraints and it was evident in the way his eyes were solely fixated on you as he anticipated a response.
"Where did that come from?" You wrinkled your nose. "What makes you ask such a ridiculous question, Rafayel?"
"It's not ridiculous!" He exclaims, his boisterous personality momentarily slipping away before he clears his throat. "You hate me"
"Says who?!"
"Says your body language" He refutes, pouting.
"I don't hate you" You vigorously shake your head. What made him think you hated him?
"I'd beg to differ"
For a fleeting moment, your attention shifts from the minimal distance between you as you narrow your eyes scrutinizingly at him. While he always had a flair for the dramatic, this time it felt genuinely serious.
"What are you on about, Rafa"
Sensing the impending embarrassment of his rationale, his ears turn red and he wordlessly grabs your hand from his chest and brings it to his cheek, letting you feel the heat emanating from his skin.
"I don't understand what you mean"
"Rafayel" You swallow, growing flustered under such an intimate act. He attempts to dismiss the way you pronounce his name but he fails as it echoes in his ears with an undeniable submission.
He turns his head, and his lips meet the skin of your palm, planting a gentle kiss. You repeat his name a few times but he refuses to meet your eyes, focusing solely on the way your palm cradles his cheek.
It's when you try to pull away, does he finally meets your gaze with narrowed eyes, remarking, "See, you do hate me." as his grip on your hand remains unyielding.
"You do"
"But I don't" You insist, and Rafayel rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Tell me why you think I hate you?"
He huffs and confesses with a pointed tone, "Every time I try to touch you, you pull back. Clearly, my existence is truly despised if you retreat at every opportunity,"
His sarcastic remark catches you off guard with a problem you never expected. Your heart gets entangled, growing intensely flustered with such a confession.
What if Rafayel knew his advances were rebuffed solely because you were cautious not to misinterpret his intentions or inadvertently lead yourself on?
Lost in your thoughts, you feel your cheeks burning with heat. It takes Rafayel snapping his fingers in front of you to bring you back down to earth.
"What?" He scoffs as you stare at him. "Admitting you hate me? That's your loss, I couldn't care less. There are a thousand other fish in the sea! A million other girls out there in the world who would die to be kissed by me! Who cares if the one girl I want doesn't want me, right? My existence is just a nuisance to you."
Throughout his incessant rambling, the pout on his lips becomes increasingly noticeable and the words he utters do not match the emotions he's experiencing. In reality, his heart is gradually shattering into pieces at your silence, feeling as though he's facing rejection.
Never before in your life have you taken the initiative on your own accord but now it feels necessary. You extend your hand to cup the right side of his face and gently turn it towards you. Your thumb strokes his cheek in circular motions as you strive to maintain eye contact despite the shyness tempting you to look away.
"I don't hate you, Rafayel" You confess earnestly.
"Could have fooled me"
"I'm not lying, you jerk"
"Your wounds hurt me. Then tell me why you avoided me like the plague"
"Why didn't you accept my hand when I opened the car door for you?"
"Why didn't you allow me to rest my chin on your shoulder at the art gallery?"
"Why did you resist when I wanted to show you how to stroke the paintbrush to create a gradient?"
"Why did you avert your head when I attempted to give you a goodbye kiss on the cheek?"
'Why didn't you let me feed you? And recently, why did you try to pull your hand away from my face"
He was giving you a headache. Honest to God his rambling was excessive and you weren't sure if you even got all that but you nodded along.
"I'm not like you Rafayel. Those things... I didn't─"
"Didn't what?" He persists.
"If you rested your chin on my shoulder, the distance would become unbearable. If you taught me to paint, there'd be no reason to linger in your art studio, pretending I'm there to learn. And if you kissed my cheek, who's to say I wouldn't want more? And if you fed me... I might just have to adopt you and fit you in my little fish tank."
"I didn't want to misinterpret things. I'm not as straightforward and upfront with gestures like you are. If I took your hand, I feared I wouldn't want to let go!"
"The fish jokes are getting old. And besides, Cucumber is perfectly content in his tiny bowl, a little overfed but fine nonetheless; I can't believe you'd consider evicting him." He points out, and out of everything you said, that's the only thing he focuses on. You nudge his shoulder harshly in response.
"Maybe you have a point. Maybe I should just get a cat"
Rafayel freezes, head snapping at you. "You wouldn't dare"
You nod, challenging him, and your sudden boldness catches him off guard. "I certainly would."
"See, it's a blatant display of animosity. I'll reclaim ownership of Cucumber."
"You can't do that, Raf." You find yourself suppressing a smile.
"I will."
"No," You frowned, "I love that fish."
"More than me, it seems."
"Can't I love you and Cucumber both?"
"So you love me?" He blinks, his knack for selectively responding to specific remarks astounds you.
"Maybe I should just leave. Your sudden personality shifts are giving me a headache."
"No," He seizes your wrist and presses you against the desk behind you. A tin of paint topples off the edge and spews its contents. While you gaze at the mess Rafayel fixates on you.
"You love me"
You retreat into your shell. "No"
"You just said you love me! If you deny it, I'll think you actually hate me"
"I'm not sure if it's love just yet, but it's something," You admit hastily, not wanting to restart the conversation and contend with his overwhelming persistence.
"Guess I can work with that"
Rafayel is oddly compliant all of a sudden and it makes you suspicious. The entire situation is confusing and feels dubious. It's unclear what's happening between you two, and it almost feels normal like every other conversation you've had, if not for the underlying tension building between your chests and lower halves.
"Rafayel, what are you doing?" You frantically inquire, your heart betraying you as it beats rapidly with every centimetre he closes between you.
Rafayel inclines his face towards you and you turn your head to the side with closed eyes as he hovers beyond the boundaries of personal space. His nose delicately traced the contour of your jaw, forming a constellation from your chin to your earlobe, and you can feel every measured inhale and exhale he makes while your breath is momentarily suspended.
"Rafayel" You mutter his name in protest yet again, not refuting your enjoyment of his actions but sensing the irregular thumping of your heart you fear you might lose consciousness.
"What are you doing"
"Evading your personal space"
"Yeah l─" You inhale sharply, "I can tell, but why?"
Rafayel stops for a second. "Since you don't hate me for the moment, I plan to take advantage of being this close to you"
"H-How many times must I tell you, I didn't hate you"
"Yeah, yeah whatever. I'm not moving" He prattles, rolling his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours. "Do I make you flustered?"
The way you're holding your breath makes it evident, but he wants to hear it directly from your lips so your muster a weak, "Yes"
He nods and smiles with approval. "Now tell me, do you actually want me to move away?"
"No"
Your obedience kindles a thrilling excitement within him, like a flame fueled by your compliance. Each nod and acquiescence adds to the anticipation and it makes his heart beat in rhythm with your submission.
"Can I kiss you?"
A lingering hush punctuated by the rush of blood surging in your ears envelops the space after he requests consent, and you nod your head instinctively, agreeing before your thoughts or words can be articulated. The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you await the slow descent of his lips and your gaze flitted, searching for something in his eyes that bore unwaveringly into yours with a depth that is slowly becoming your undoing.
Pulled in by an imperceptible force, Rafayel bridges the gap and meets your lips in a fervent kiss with a passion you've never encountered before.
When his mouth slots against yours, an intricate play of uncertainty, desire, and experimentation ensues. Time seemed to stand still, suspended in the dance of your entwined souls.
Rafayel's hands tenderly cradle your cheeks, tilting your head back while pressing his body against yours as he angles his head to kiss you with a deeper sense of passion that renders you flustered and breathless when he eventually pulls away.
The birds' melodious chirps seem to celebrate this unexpected blossoming of romance as if their song is a serenade to the newfound connection that has finally come together.
You meet Rafayel's gaze with a timidity he yearns to unravel. He wants to pull you right back into another kiss and lavish you with myriad praises. He wants to take you by the hand and lead you to his room where he can tenderly place you on his bed and express the depth of his desire to love you.
His infatuation lies in the unspoken words that crash upon him like a sudden wave against the shoreline, threatening to erode the restraints he struggled to maintain. The weight of unsaid wishes presses on him and the carefully constructed barriers seem on the verge of slipping away in the face of overwhelming longing.
"Rafayel." Has any human voice ever sounded sweeter? It lures him into a sense of desperation, enchanting him to the point where he feels compelled to kiss you again.
In a matter of seconds, any other words you had to offer to fade into the collision of his lips against yours. Your mouth opens willingly, his warm hands cradling your face once more as the kiss intensifies with his sweet tongue swiftly intertwining with yours.
He has you exactly where he wants. The fact that you can’t help but lean into him is like a triumph for him. The way you willingly succumb to him is something he can't get enough of, and all he craves is to lead you to ecstasy. He wants more, and the moans escaping him make it abundantly clear.
"I want you, Rafayel... So bad" You confess, overcoming shyness.
Rafayel's eyes widen with curiosity, and his lower lip protrudes with a gentle breath as he lets out a whining sigh.
"Finally! And just so you know, there's no going back" He cautions, a warning lingering in his words as he shifts his hands to your hips, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
You're inclined to nod your head, grappling mentally with the weight of your confession. Yet, it doesn't change the undeniable truth that you want this, you want him, and that was all he needed to hear to lead you to the expansive couch positioned near the extensive glass window at the far end of the studio, the closest comfortable spot for what lay ahead.
"Well?" He mused and you reply, "What?"
You were inexperienced and jittery, nerves causing a slight tension in your posture, but Rafayel as always, was there to alleviate any tension just as he's done in the past.
He seats himself on the couch, spreads his legs and rolls his hips for comfort, the bulge in his pants evident and a testament to your plea. There are a few buttons of his shirt undone revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin. He raises but a singular brow wondering why you're still standing idly when his legs have parted specifically for you.
"Come here"
Your feet carry you forward before your mind comprehends, and the next thing you know, Rafayel has you seated atop him. He flinches at the contact of you on his bulge but quickly wipes away any sign of discomfort when he notices your worried expression, thinking you might have hurt him.
"Wait" He suddenly blurts, "Stand up"
"One of these days I'm going to eat you out" He grins, and you struggle to resist the urge to moan.
You do with hesitancy and his fingers loop into your pants and tug you forward. "I'm going to take these off," He says, and you blush hard, feeling a surge of arousal course through your veins.
You observe as he unbuttons the top of your pants with intricate fingers, sliding them down your legs leaving you half-bare. His eyes glint mischievously as he peers up at you through his eyelashes, his face in line with your lower half as he remains seated on the couch.
Rafayel instructs you to turn around, guiding you to perch on his lap and you comply. He encourages you to relax and lean against his chest. His hands then place on your knees and part them enough for the cool air to breeze between your legs. Your panties cling uncomfortably and a wave of heat courses through your body.
"Breathe," He chuckles, sensing the tension in your body as he pulls down your panties, and you gasp as a rush of cold air greets you.
"I've never done this before, Rafayel"
His hands inch closer to your core, "Just breathe, baby" He whispers as his index finger delicately traces the contours of your pussy. "I'll go slow. It'll feel good, promise"
You inhale deeply, finding your inner courage and trusting him entirely. At first, Rafayel entered with just a single finger. You gasp, your body yielding to his touch. His finger explores delicately between your folds ensuring no harm as he starts tracing circles around your sensitive bud.
Your brows pinch in response to his movements, your back arching as your fists look for something to grab.
Rafayel grins, redirecting your hand to the nape of his neck while his fingers tease your clit, and as you grasp onto him for support he presses on your stomach to prevent your back from arching away.
There is no doubt in your fuzzy mind that Rafayel exhibits the same level of concentrated energy and finesse in propelling you to new heights as he does in his artworks. Every movement he makes is precise, mirroring the precision of his painting technique, akin to the deliberate strokes of a paintbrush caressing a canvas.
The interplay of his unpredictable movements and irrational spur of inspiration, coupled with the graceful gestures of his hand, harmonizes and forges an experience transcending the boundaries of conventional perception, leaving you with a sensation unlike any you've encountered before.
"Enjoying yourself?" He feels the need to comment when your nails dig into his neck but you're too fucked to comprehend anything he's saying which makes him chuckle into your ear and picked up his movements. You squirm in his grasp, tension building in your stomach, thighs aching, yet the impending pressure refuses to ease as he pulls back every time you think you might explode.
He will be your undoing, and all it takes is a single finger toying with your heat. You can't take the suspension any longer and shamelessly beg for more, his name leaving your lips desperately. He can't deny you like you've denied him and listens, inserting another finger but this time with less gentleness, employing his thumb to stroke small circles on your clit.
A breathy sigh escaped your lips as his fingertips tentatively yet deliberately traced your slick folds from bottom to top. He kissed your neck, feeling a surge of arousal run to his cock leaking precum beneath you.
He withdraws his fingers, admiring with pride the glistening evidence of your cum coating them while a moan is forcefully drawn from your throat at the sudden emptiness and build-up within your stomach just beginning for release. You exclaim his name as he cleans his fingers with a pop by sucking on them.
In a blurry flip of the moment, Rafayel swiftly scoops you into his arms and pivots you around, settling you onto your back as he gradually lowers himself on top of you. He kisses you hard and takes your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settles between you. After months of resisting and denying your feelings, this is what it led to.
Rafayel hovers over you, staring down at your face and running his hands over your body. He groaned, the warmth seeping into his groin as he pulsed and ached with the need to be inside of your tight body. He positioned himself at your entrance and observed as your face twisted in pleasure. Then, he murmured soothingly as he drew closer and penetrated you, causing every muscle in your body to tense as you cried out and gripped onto his shoulders, the soles of your feet digging into his back.
"You drive me fucking insane"
He exhales sharply as your thighs tighten around him and your hands slip under his thin shirt. He's unable to bear the barriers between you any longer and kisses you one final time before breaking away to discard his pants and remove his shirt. He does the same with the remainder of your clothes, unbuttoning your shirt haphazardly and tossing it across the room where it sadly lands amidst a dissaray of paint he hasn't cleaned up.
"Rafayel! It hurts" You mutter with a headshake, stifling a sob and he nods, pausing his movements and stroking your cheek. He bends down, planting a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the gentle whimpers you emit. He remains in that position for a while before inquiring, "Does it still hurt?"With shameless selfishness, Rafayel exercised restraint throughout, feeling the tight grip of your pussy squeezing his throbbing cock and it drove him insane.
Fuck─ he wanted to ravish you.
“No─ N-Not really anymore.” You eventually responded with a gulp permitting him to continue. His earlier edging was a prelude to this, as your arousal coated your intimacy forming a natural lubricant. Rafayel proceeded to push deeper into you and your reaction remained most responsive.
Inch by inch, you took him in.
"That feels good" You moaned shamelessly and Rafayel attached his lips to your throat, bringing an otherworldly kind of ecstasy to you. Slowly, he sunk deeper into you. The initial discomfort of being stretched and filled gives way to overwhelming realms of pleasure coursing through your senses.
“It feels so good” You whine as he rolls his hips, biting his lip to contain a semblance of his sanity.
"I've had dreams of this" He admits, loving the way you're so willing to take him in even with the initial discomfort. "Dreams of you. My muse. You were right, after getting a taste I doubt I can ever be without you."
You nod your head weakly and Rafayel slides his hands into yours intertwining your fingers just as he bottoms out in you. "Shh," He quieted you with a gentle whisper, slowly commencing a gentle rhythmic thrust of his hips providing you with a moment to adjust. Yet, impatience took over and you rolled your hips, emitting a moan at the euphoric sensation that left your eyes rolling. Before long, Rafayel has undeniably picked him his pace and his actions are now characterized by a precise execution of snapping his hips against yours, his cock reaching the deepest recesses within you, and as he gains speed his thrusts delve even deeper, and your responses become increasingly animated. Your hands explored every inch of his shoulders, torso, through his hair and down his back. Your lips parted with each heaving breath he drew from your chest, while his lips fervently sucked on your neck.
The delightful singing of your moans, the way your face twisted in pain and pleasure, and when you constantly arched your back and found a rhythm in rolling your hips to meet his, Rafayel could hold himself back no longer and pumped his cock into your walls, infiltrating and memorizing every crevice. Upon seeing your breasts shake with the movement and your mouth agape, he pulled out and thrust right back in with a force that eroded any lingering shreds of dignity.
Still, you had the nerve to bite your lip and smile so seductively at him, saying, “It feels so good.”
Then and there, Rafayel knew that you weren't the demure innocent little fish ensnared in his trap from the start; you were the prey, teasing the hunter with the knowledge that escape was within your grasp, unmarred.
"Taking me all" He chuckles without mirth, a hint of the devil reflecting in the crimson hue within his amethyst eyes. "Such a good girl, aren't you little one"
The faint glint of his fangs becomes apparent when he smiles, tempting you to passionately kiss him at the mere sight.
God, you were so wet, so soaked for him.Rafayel cradled your face in the palm of his right hand, attuned to the clenching of your muscles around him and the loud explicit squelching of his cock driving into you. He sensed the imminent arrival of your climax.
"Cum for me" He demands softly and you can't refuse him, can't refuse the way he holds you as his cock pumps into you. And you cum hard and fast, your body convulsing in response.
Your head droops back listlessly as do your hands, and Rafayel's grin widens as if he's stumbled upon the perfect canvas for his artistry. Words seemingly elude your mind to articulate such an experience. It was transformative, stripping away every vestige of shyness and leaving only exhaustion in its wake. Your release trickles out, enveloping his shaft, propelling him towards his climax. Rafayel thrusts his member deeply into you, and with a groan intertwined with a whine, he climaxes inside you, filling you without mercy to the absolute brim.
"Fuck" He whines, his forehead pressing against yours as his body collapses onto you, ensconced within the comfort of your embrace. Together, you climax and ride out your high as your essence intertwines and spills out between you onto the luxurious upholstery of his couch, a touch of crimson blending with the mix.
Rafayel embraces you tightly, repositioning himself onto his back with you resting on his chest. He gently guides your head to rest above his heartbeat and keeps you securely in that position.“You okay?” He asked, placing a kiss on the side of your head.
"This wasn't how I expected my night to go" You confess sleepily, and Rafayel concurs, but neither of you is complaining.
"You need to pee" He suddenly says, though his motionless form indicates he's as reluctant to move as you are. "And we need to clean up"
"Just─ Just a minute longer, I love being like this" With your words, your head nestles into his chest, leaving Rafayel with no option but to comply. He holds you tightly, savouring the moment, believing it might be the beginning and the end of his resolve.
This night has sealed the deal for him completely. He is no longer an individual entity, and it's been that way for quite some time. Now, he unequivocally belongs to you.
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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2K notes · View notes
sunniques · 2 months
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— 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !
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➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: as a spoiled brat, you’ve always been one to get what you want—even things that don’t belong to you.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, dub con, possessiveness, somnophilia, daddy kink, breeding kink, begging, pussy job, riding, squirting, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation
➺ WC: 3k
NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.
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The room is completely dark when you enter it. You can barely make out the familiar layout in the darkness, but that doesn’t stop you. With sly expertise, you navigate your way through the darkness until you find the large window at the opposite end of the room. You glance over at the bed for a moment before carefully opening the curtains and letting the moonlight into the room.
The moon is shining so brightly that it illuminates most of the room. Perfect. You look over your shoulder with a satisfied smirk. Your stepdad’s sleeping form looks ethereal in the moonlight. He’s shirtless, leaving his muscular form laid out for your greedy eyes to take in. The sheets are covering most of his lower half, but you can see his legs peeking through just a bit. You turn fully, licking your lips as you hope he’s decided to sleep naked. It wasn’t necessary, but it would help.
Like a preying feline, you inch toward the bed quietly until you’re standing at the edge. Seungcheol remains peacefully asleep, unaware that he’s been caught in your web of depraved desires. You bite your lip as excitement courses through your veins. Slowly and quietly, you slip out of your sleep shorts and your loose top. Only left in your tiny thong, you crawl on the large bed and carefully inch toward your sleeping stepfather.
You take a quick glance at his sleeping face before tossing the sheets off his body. To your luck, Seungcheol is completely naked. It’s hard to contain your excitement and lust when you see his dick. Your eyes glaze over and your mouth waters at the sight. His cock is thick and long, curving upward into his abdomen. It’s so big and pretty that you can’t hold back anymore. You crawl closer him and descend on his cock like a starved woman.
You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way up to the bulbous tip. His musky taste has your pussy clenching around nothing. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you repeat the motions over and over until his cock starts to twitch and harden. Soon enough, his tip starts to leak with precum that you greedily lap up. You relish in the soft noises Seungcheol lets out as you circle your tongue around the leaking slit.
With a sly grin you pull back. Carefully, you slide off your underwear and toss it aside. You have a predatory smile on your face as you swing one leg over your stepdad’s strong body. A quiet moan tears from your throat when you sit down on his pulsing cock. You’re so wet that all your arousal drips onto his hardening cock. Biting your lip, you start to slide your slick cunt up and down his length. The delicious friction makes it impossible for you to contain your quiet moans.
Seungcheol’s hot cock feels too good against your pussy. Every ridge and vein dragging against your clit and slick lips is making you feel drunk with arousal. You watch with satisfaction as your stepdad’s thick eyebrows furrow. Low grunts tumble past his soft looking lips, and he looks so hot that you can’t believe you’ve waited so long to do this. If only your mom had gotten a promotion sooner. Now with her going on business trips more often, you would be able to have fun with her husband to your heart and pussy’s content.
You can feel just how much Seungcheol likes your lewd actions, and eventually you can’t handle any more foreplay. Lifting your hips up, you reach down and grab his cock. He’s so big that you can’t fully wrap your hand around him, and it just makes you all the more eager to have him inside you.
Somehow Seungcheol doesn’t wake up even when you tease his leaking tip against your creamy folds. You hiss quietly when the bulbous head goes past your folds. It’s painful at first, but you love every second of it. When you slide down on rest of his cock, you think you might cum from the stretch alone. You throw your head back, eyes rolling into your skull as you gasp out in pleasure.
No one has ever been so deep inside you. His cock is kissing your cervix, and it has your pussy clenching down on him so tightly that you think it might be a little hard to move. “Fuck.”
You lift your hips, and slowly ease yourself down again. Lustful whimpers and moans escape you as you slowly repeat your motions, feeling almost dizzy at the way his big cock is stretching you out. His dick feels so fucking good; hot and throbbing and aching to burst inside you.
“So fucking big.” You hiss, planting your hands on his torso. Tracing the ridge of his hard abs as you fuck yourself on his cock feels like absolute heaven, but you’re done indulging in your fantasy alone.
Throwing whatever scrap of inhibition you have left, you raise your lower body before roughly slamming your ass back down. The harsh movement makes you cry out in pleasure. You start to move eagerly, not holding back any of your movements. His cock hits deep inside you, stretching out your tight little hole with every bounce.
You can’t take your eyes off of Seungcheol’s face. Low groans slip out of his lips, and you can see his eyes twitching beneath his eyelids. You lick your lips and grin. He’s slowly starting to stir which makes you speed up your eager movements.
Seungcheol is slowly pulled out of his sleep by the feeling of immense pleasure. He feels the weight of someone on top of him and something hot and tight wrapped around his cock. Lewd squelching and lovely moans fill his ears as he slowly peels his eyes open. His vision is slightly blurry, but he can still make out the sight of a body that definitely doesn’t belong to his wife on top of him.
“What—?” His voice is groggy and comes out in a half-groan.
Seungcheol blinks slowly, suddenly very aware that his young stepdaughter is bouncing on his cock. The sight is so filthy and hot that his cock twitches and throbs inside you. It’s so wrong, but he’s too shocked to do anything. That, and he’s powerless to the way your tight cunt feels around him.
“Princess,” his voice is gruff, almost scolding in tone. “What are you doing?”
You moan and clench around him because even in this situation he still calls you by the pet name you love so much. Leaning back on your arms, you slow your bounces into gentle grinds to give Seungcheol a filthy show of your pussy being stretched open. You smirk when you see his eyes lock where you two are connected.
“Sorry, daddy.” You moan, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help myself—fuck. Your cock is just so big.”
Your bratty words really shouldn’t turn him on, but they do. It doesn’t help that you look so good while you use his cock like your own personal fucktoy. The way your pretty tits bounce is mesmerizing and the fucked out expression you’re wearing is enough to push him closer to his orgasm. Your moans are the filthiest he’s ever heard—so loud and impetuous. He feels sick for enjoying it all. The entire situation is so wrong, and yet he makes no move to get you off of him.
“Y/N.” He growls your name like you’ve imagined so many times.
You lean forward and grab his large hands. Slowly, you guide them up your body until they’re on your tits. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you, and you give him an impish smile as you make him squeeze.
“Yes, daddy?” You purr, slowing your movements to provide the most minimal friction.
A thrill runs down your spine when he lets out a grunt of disapproval. You can tell he’s still fighting himself on giving into his desires, so you clench down on him again as you increase your pace. Just like you thought, the lustful action ignites something in him. His hands squeeze your tits on their own this time, pinching and tugging on your hard nipples before they trail down your body.
Seungcheol sits up, any qualms about what was happening pushed out of his mind. He couldn’t think about his wife or the fact that he had enabled your behavior by always indulging your bratty desires. All he could think about was your sweet little cunt.
“God, baby.” He groans as his hands go to rest on your ass. “You’re such a needy girl. Couldn’t even ask me properly for my cock. You just had to come in here and take it like a greedy little brat.”
His big hands deliver a harsh slap to your ass which make you cry out and jolt forward. Seungcheol captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue gliding over your taut nipple with an eagerness he’d been holding back until now.
“Daddy!” You mewl out, pussy clenching hard around his throbbing cock.
Seungcheol hisses around your nipple and kneads your ass. He slowly starts to fuck up into you as he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. His senses are completely invaded by you—your taste, your scent, your touch. He can feel you get wetter as he wildly flicks his tongue around your nipple, rolling and sucking on it as if it’s an addicting candy.
Your arms wrap around your stepdad’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer to your chest as you slide up and down his thick cock. You toss your head back with a loud moan when his hands squeeze your ass as he starts to guide you up and down his dick. His leaking tip hits a spot that makes you see stars, and it pushes you closer to your orgasm.
“Fuck!” You squeal. “I love riding your big cock, daddy!”
“Yeah?” He groans against your tit. Seungcheol’s wet mouth pops off your nipple, a string of saliva attached to his lips. His eyes are dark with arousal and need. “Love me stretching out your tight little pussy?”
“Yes, daddy, yes! Can’t get enough of your dick!”
Your juices are dripping down his heavy balls and make the sound of his skin slapping against yours entirely carnal. Every clap of his heavy balls on your ass jolts you and forces you to brace yourself on his strong chest. One of Seungcheol’s hand trails up your spine and cups the back of your head to pull you to his lips. His mouth devours yours in a lust-fuelled kiss.
Seungcheol swallows your squeal as him other hand moves between your legs. His thumb finds your puffy clot, rubbing practiced circles on the aching bud. You moan into each other’s mouths as your juices coat his unrelenting cock. All it takes is one particularly hard thrust for you to cum all over Seungcheol’s cock.
“Da-Daddy!” You cry out in ecstasy as your cream stains his throbbing cock.
Seungcheol moans along with you. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your hot cunt tightening impossibly around him. It almost feels like you’re suffocating his cock, and he loves every second of it. He licks his lips as he fucks up into you, stimulating you through your orgasm. The sight of you cumming is something he’ll never forget. A carnal desire consumes him, and in that moment he realizes he never wants to stop seeing it.
“Cum inside me, daddy.” You whimper in his ear.
You feel Seungcheol’s cock twitch and throb inside you. Immediately, you can tell the idea turns him on as much as it does you. As always, you’re determined to get what you want. “Want it so bad, daddy. Please.”
Seungcheol starts to fuck up into you roughly, groaning when he hears your needy pleas. It’s rare for you to say the word please, and to hear you moan it out so wantonly because you want his cum is driving him insane. As usual, he’s going to give you what you want. That doesn’t mean he won’t take full advantage of your desperation, though.
“Bratty little girl wants her pussy stuffed?” He coos against your collarbone. “You want daddy to fuck you full of cum?”
God, you’ve never wanted anything more. And at this point, you aren’t above begging for it.
“Yes!” You pant, thighs trembling as you move your hips to meet his rough thrusts. “Cum in my pussy, daddy! Fill me up like the nasty slut I am!”
Your words and your fucked out face are enough to push Seungcheol over the edge. He spills his hot cum into you with a loud moan of your name. Lewd squelching mix in with your cries of pleasure, the musky smell of sex permeating the air as your stepfather fucks his cum deep inside your battered cunt.
“Fuck, just look at you.” Seungcheol groans as he keeps slamming his cock against your cervix. “Milking daddy’s cock like the greedy little brat that you are.”
But he doesn’t stop there.
Seungcheol is insatiable, and now that he’s gotten a taste of your tight little pussy, he’s going to indulge himself to his cock’s desire.
One of his strong arms wraps around you. Suddenly you’re flipped on your back. You let out a choked moan as his hands spread you apart and his cock spears into you again. His hips start to snap relentlessly. Seungcheol has never looked hotter than he does now, literally fucking you into the bed he shares with your mother.
His thrusts are deliberate and rough, but he doesn’t stop or slow down. You’re crying out from the overstimulation, and it somehow makes him more ravenous. Seungcheol loves watching you tremble on his cock. You’re already so addicted to him fucking you that you don’t think to ask him to stop. In fact, you plead for more like the demanding little freak that you are.
Is it wrong that his chest swells with affection when you do?
Your arms wrap around his muscular back, yanking him down for a messy kiss. Seungcheol’s aching cock throbs against your velvety walls when you mewl out a needy daddy against his lips. He coos sweetly, lowering his body until his balls touch the filthiness between your thighs. Your stepdad’s big cock is slamming into you to the hilt, and you can practically feel him in your guts.
“Feels so fucking good, daddy.” You whine as he rams his cock into your sweet spot.
Your entire body tenses, and your cunt sucks him deeper, hungry for more despite there being no room left. Squelching noises bounce off the walls as he splits you open. Seungcheol fucks you harder and deeper as if he’s determined to rearrange your insides. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his rough thrusts before reaching down to collect your cream that’s formed a ring around his base.
Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk as he laps up the fluids he’s collected from his fingers. He groans at the taste, knowing he won’t let you leave this bed until he’s made you cum on his tongue. “You taste so fucking sweet when you’re full of me, princess.”
The sight is so nasty and erotic that the coil building in your stomach snaps. Your stepdad leans back, watching with aroused fascination as you squirt all over his cock and cover his lower abdomen in your release. Your whole body convulses as quiet mewls pour from your mouth. His thrusts have slowed into thorough grinds as sticky strings connect your most intimate parts.
“Fuck—Y/N!” Seungcheol groans as he pumps you with another hot load.
“Give me all your cum, daddy!” You cry out, hips moving on their own when you feel his seed spill into your welcoming cunt.
You allow him to move you as he pleases, dragging out your orgasm as it bleeds into another—you can barely breathe as he rubs your sore clit. Seungcheol fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat cock. Your sweet cries of pleasure are music to his ears. He knows then that he can’t possibly let anyone hear the lovely little noises you make.
“This pretty little pussy belongs to me now.” Your stepfather’s possessive grunt has you clenching around his dick. “Gonna fuck you like this every day. Gonna fill this tight cunt with my cum until your belly is swollen with my baby.”
His cum keeps spurting along your sore walls, trying to find space as if there’s any left. You moan wantonly when you feel it seep out of you. Seungcheol moans along with you, loving the sight of his seed leaking down your ass and drip onto his heavy balls.
Seungcheol pulls back with a fucked out smile, sweat brimming at his hairline. His chest fills with pride at your dazed expression. Slowly, he keeps fucking his cum into you, desperate to knock you up how he promised. Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your cum-filled thoughts. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt so good.
Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your hole from the inside out. Seungcheol doesn’t hide his lascivious smirk. The sight just might be his favorite thing—next to that dumb expression you have on your face of course. It only makes him want to do it all over again. Each grind sends little shocks throughout your body. Seungcheol groans gutturally when you lazily start to meet his thrusts.
“My bratty little princess.” Seungcheol coos adoringly as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. “You’re sleeping with daddy tonight.”
The triumphant little smirk you give him is enough indication to let Seungcheol know that once again he’s fallen into his pretty little freak’s selfish trap.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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heart4gyu · 27 days
Text
wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader
note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |
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this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.
he just couldn’t help it though.
you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.
how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.
after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.
you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.
jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.
you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.
the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.
all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.
and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.
you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.
jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.
you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…
jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.
it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…
so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.
and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.
he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).
you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.
“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”
he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.
giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.
he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.
“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.
“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.
there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.
you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.
so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.
he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.
he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.
“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.
“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.
and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.
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goldenworldsabound · 11 months
Text
posts I want to make:
Clayman College AU (I've been obsessed tbh though I haven't been talking about it BUT I SHOULD-)
Clayman meow meow AU (new AU just hit owo)
two atsv SIs - Spidersona and The Spot's partner and how they intertwine and relate to each other-
my SI post Clayman's death in canon and how they recover from grief and build a new life
thoughts about SI's relationship with Kazalim (Clayman and clown fam's parent) which I've been rethinking recently
My ff7 OC who is Rufus' doctor!!!
I think that was mostly it 🤔if y'all are interested in any of these in particular feel free to drop me an ask because then I DEFINITELY will eventually get to it fkjdsahf it's been busy around here so I keep forgetting things kjdhsakjfda
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gubsbuubs · 2 months
Text
Headache Relief
(18+)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Sex duh, creampie.
Summary: When Spencer seeks relief for his intense headaches, he finds more than just painkillers in Y/n's room.
A/N: Hi everyone, I've been away... I know... I know. This bar exam prep is kicking my ass. I've got some other works on the way but I had to finish this one and share it with you guys.
English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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Y/n laid on the bed, her tired eyes scanning the pages of the worn book, the weight of today's concluded case still heavy on her mind. The darkened motel room was softly illuminated by the gentle glow of the muted television, casting faint shadows that danced across the walls. Her peace was abruptly shattered by a knock at her door, soft yet insistent, pulling her away from the comfort of the pages.
Glancing at the bedside clock, the red digits of 1:52 glowed back at her, stirring a sense of urgency.
Could something have happened? Her worry mounted with each passing second. With a quick exhale, she rose from the bed, her heart pounding with apprehension. Her slender fingers fumbled with the lock as she approached the door, anticipation gnawing at her. When it swung open, she was met with a sight that caused her stomach to twist with concern.
There he stood, his appearance disheveled, his exhaustion evident in the lines etched upon his face. The fingers of his left hand pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose, while his right hand leaned heavily against the wall for support. Dressed in a mismatched ensemble of a band shirt and pajama pants, he looked like he had been through a rough night.
"Spence?!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry, the concern evident in her tone.
His bloodshot eyes met hers, "Y/n, I'm sorry... I know it's late," he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Are you okay?" Her hand instinctively reached out to touch his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips.
"I….I need your help…" His breathing was ragged, and his words came out in a rush, "It´s happening again," he admitted, vulnerability seeping through.
"Come in" Y/n said softly, tugging lightly on his shoulder.
He sat on the end of her bed, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of his posture. She closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the dimly lit room. Turning to face him, she found him hunched over, his hands pressed firmly against the sides of his temples as he massaged his own head, his face contorting in pain.
"I... I know you always carry a pouch of medicine everywhere you go," he began, "I thought... maybe you could help me."
Y/n's heart softened at the vulnerability in his voice, realizing he must be in significant pain to ask for medicine, so without a word, she crossed the room. Rummaging through her bag, her fingers closed around a small pill bottle, and then she grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge.
With a sense of urgency, she handed them to Spencer before sitting by his side.
"Here, Spence," she said softly. "Take this. It should help."
Spencer accepted the pill and water with gratitude, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to open the cap. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the pill with a gulp of water, placing the bottle on the floor afterward
A moment of silence passed, and Spencer attempted to stand, but his head swam with dizziness. Y/n reacted swiftly, rising faster than anticipated to catch him just as his legs gave way beneath him.
With a gentle yet firm grip, she guided him back down onto the bed, her heart racing as he sat back down.
"Whoa, whoa, Spence, are you okay?" Her voice was filled with worry as she steadied him, her hands offering support and holding him upright. "I think you might need to lie down for a bit," she suggested, concern evident in her eyes.
He opened his mouth to talk, even looked up to lock his eyes with hers, but feeling unsteady he leaned forward, and breath in deeply as his head came to rest against her stomach.
"I'm sorry," he rushed, his voice muffled against her, "The dizziness... it's from the pain" his words tinged with frustration. "It'll pass as soon as the medication kicks in."
As he attempted to lift his head, another wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway once again. Y/n instinctively pulled him closer, stepping between his legs and encouraging him to hug her waist for support. "Hey, it's okay, Spence," she reassured "Just hold on to me until you feel better. I'm here for you."
"I'm sorry," his voice was soft and as low as whisper.
“Shhhhhh” Her right hand met the back of his head, applying gentle pressure to certain points.
"I just… I don't want to impose on your space, I just..." His sentence was interrupted by a relieved sigh, the tension slowly melting away under her comforting touch.
"Spencer, that's what friends are for," Y/n murmured softly, as she continued to massage his head, the tension gradually ebbing away.
As her words reached his ears, Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a caring friend by his side.
"Friend… right...." he taught to himself.
Amidst the urgency for the relief of mediation and the dizziness that followed, he'd become oblivious to the situation he found himself in. His hands intertwined around her, gripping tighthy on her waist, his head nestled against her stomach, while her gentle touch sought to alleviate his suffering.
In that moment, the intimacy of their position became glaringly apparent. Yes they were just friends, yet here they were, intertwined in a way that transcended mere friendship.
Another sigh of relief left Spencer's lips as he felt her touch soothe his pain and provide a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Is this helping?" She asked gently.
"Yeah, it is. Thank you, Y/n," Spencer replied gratefully, lightly nodding his head against her stomach.
She looked down at him, nestled against her, he looked calm, relieved, like he belongs close to her.
She paused the movement of her fingers for a moment, considering how she could further alleviate his discomfort. "Maybe I could massage your head. That could help, right?"
Spencer nodded once again, lightly lifting his chin to grace her with a faint smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Actually, head massages can be quite effective for relieving headaches," he said, slipping into his familiar role of sharing facts and statistics. "They help to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension, which can provide significant relief from pain."
"Well then, let me try something," Slowly, she stepped away, feeling his hands brush against her sides and hips as she moved back. With measured steps, Y/n climbed into the bed behind him, settling against the headboard. Spencer turned his head back slightly to look at her, a hint of confusion evident in his expression.
He watched her as she motioned with her hand, encouraged him, "Come here, lay back." She patted the sheets between her legs, inviting him to find comfort in her embrace.
As Spencer looked at her, the world around him seemed to fade into the background. His gaze traveled up her legs, lingering on the bare skin of her thighs barely covered by her shorts and the oversized shirt that draped over her frame. Despite the pain that throbbed in his head, he couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him. There was a softness in her features, a gentleness in the way she sat against the headboard, her legs spread slightly, inviting him closer.
A wince of pain brought him back to reality, and with a nod, he complied, scooting back onto the bed and laying back into her embrace.
His head found its place between her legs, his head lightly leaning onto her lower stomach, the warmth of the bare skin of her thighs brushing against his cheeks and neck.
Despite the pain, his mind started to wander as he laid there.
As her fingers worked their way through his hair, easing the tension in his temples, Spencer's thoughts began to drift. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of the softness of her skin against his face, and the delicate scent of florals that surrounded her.
As they lingered in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/n's gentle massage continued to soothe Spencer's temples. Though the pain started to subsided, the thoughts of her only seemed to intensify, swirling through his mind like a tempestuous storm. Lost in his reverie, Spencer's awareness heightened as he glanced down and noticed … his pants were a little tighter now.
A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he realized the effect she was having on him. Quickly he sat up, his cheeks burning and his breathing picking up speed.
"Is everything okay, Spencer?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. "Did I hurt you?"
Spencer hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't want to admit that he got hard and now had to leave the room, but the concern in her eyes urged him to speak.
"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "You were a real help, but I should leave. I don't want to... You should rest now." As he attempted to get up and leave the bed, Y/n's hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. She tried to meet his eyes but his gaze kept shifting away, so Y/n's eyes inadvertently wandered downward, drawn by a curious instinct. And there it was, beneath the fabric of his pijama pants, a subtle but unmistakable tenting. Heat flooded her cheeks as realization dawned on her, and her hand instinctively flew left of his arm to cover her surprised mouth.
"I... I..." Spencer began, his words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. Despite his attempts to speak, the words remained elusive, trapped on the tip of his tongue like a fleeting thought.
"I need to go," he finally muttered getting up. But before he could make a move to leave, Y/n's hand now met his, halting him in his tracks.
"Spencer, wait," she implored, her tone gentle yet firm, her eyes searching for understanding.
"Y/n, I... I'm so sorry," the words tumbled from his lips in a rush of guilt and regret. "You've been such a great friend, and I couldn't help but..." he sighed heavily.
"Oh, you probably think I´m such a pervert..." His voice trailed off, unable to continue, as shame washed over him. He felt like he had crossed a line, making her uncomfortable in a way he had never intended.
"You don't need to apologize," she said, "And you're not a perv, you haven't made me uncomfortable."
"What?" he asked in disbelief, looking up at her with confusion in his eyes.
Y/n smiled softly, "I understand Spencer."
"You understand?" His eyebrows were furrowed, and his heart was racing.
"Humm humm," she nodded her head, looking up in to his eyes.
"What do you mean?" He asked, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him.
He watched closely, as she gently took his hand, guiding it down until his fingertips met the warmth of her covered core. His breath caught in his throat as a rush of heat surged through him, his heart pounding with a mixture of shock and desire.
"I understand," she whispered softly, her voice filled with desire.
Spencer's mind reeled with the intensity of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her arousal and the softness of her touch. He felt a surge of longing flood through him, a primal urge driving him to lean in closer, to explore the depths of her desire.
"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice almost faltered as he felt the wetness seeping through the fabric. His heart pounded in his chest. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw nothing but longing and desire reflected back at him.
She nodded, her lips parted in anticipation of what was to come. With a gentle touch, his hand met her cheek, guiding her closer until their lips met in a passionate kiss.
The intensity of their kiss grew, fueling their desire as Spencer's hand ventured boldly, tracing circles over her covered clit. A small moan escaped her as his tongue brushed her bottom lip asling for enterence.
"Fuck," she gasped, her breath hitching as she felt the bed dip beneath her. Her heart raced with anticipation as Spencer knelt before her, his gaze filled with hunger and desire.
With trembling hands, Spencer reached for the hem of her clothing. Before he peeled away the fabric, he looked up at her, his gaze searching for reassurance.
"Do you want me too keep going, Y/n?" he whispered, his voice tinged with urgency. He needed to be certain that she was ready to take this step with him, to surrender to the passion that burned between them.
Y/n met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes... yes... I need you, Spence," she whined.
With a shaky breath, Spencer slowly dragged the fabric of her shorts down her legs, his hands trembling with anticipation as he revealed her nakedness to him. Y/n watched him with bated breath, a flush of heat spreading across her skin as her clothing fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric before she managed to pull it over her head, tossing it aside with a sense of urgency. Now fully exposed, she stood before him, her body illuminated by the soft glow of the room.
Spencer's gaze trailed over her naked form. He watched intently as the slight chill in the air caused her nipples to harden, standing erect against the smooth curve of her breasts.
Y/n felt utterly exposed, her body laid bare before him.
With a steady hand, Spencer reached out, his touch gentle yet firm as he took her right nipple between his index and middle finger. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the sensation ripple through her. She arched her back instinctively.
"Fuck... please," Y/n whimpered, her voice laced with desperation as she parted her legs further, inviting him closer. With a sense of urgency, she reached for his hand, guiding it to where she wanted it most.
Feeling her warmth and wetness against his fingers, Spencer's desire surged as he explored her delicate folds. Now there was no fabric between the soft skin of his fingers and the warm, slick slit of her pussy. He moaned at the sigth and teased her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Spencer's breath hitched as he added another finger, the sensation of her tightness and warmth driving him wild with desire. With each movement of his fingers, he couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly she fit around him.
"God, you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't even imagine how good you'll feel wrapped around my cock."
The thought of being buried deep inside her, of feeling her tightness enveloping him completely, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
As Y/n writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans filled the room. "Please," she gasped, her voice thick with need. "Fuck me, Spencer. I need you."
Spencer withdrew his fingers from within her, eliciting a soft whimper of protest from Y/n. But before she could voice her longing, he brought his fingers to her parted lips.
"Open," he commanded.
Without hesitation, Y/n obeyed, parting her lips to accept his fingers in to her mouth. With a hunger that mirrored his own, she sucked eagerly, tasting herself on his skin. The raw intensity of the moment sent a thrill coursing through her, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing second.
As she eagerly licked and sucked his fingers clean, Spencer's hands moved to the waistband of his pajama pants, his movements urgent and determined. With a quick motion, he undid the strings, discarded his pajama pants and shirt, revealing his throbbing erection that sprang free. Y/n's gaze locked onto his member, her eyes widening with desire as she took in his arousal.
As Spencer lightly stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, he whispered, "Imagine how good it will feel inside of you,"
Oh, what a sigth! Her eyebrows furrowed in a plea, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured. "I need to be inside you." He positioned himself, aligning his throbbing length with her entrance. With a sense of urgency, she reached behind him, grabbing a handful of his ass, urging him forward as he lowered himself onto her.
With a shared moan, he entered her completely. The sensation of him filling her to the hilt overwhelming their senses.
Spencer began by fucking her slowly, his movements deliberate and passionate, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. As he thrusted into her with a gentle rhythm, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, seeking to subside her moans of pleasure.
Her hands tangled in the curls at the back of his head, in response Spencer tilted his head back slightly, letting out a throaty moan. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "You're so fucking tight."
"Oh, Spence," she gasped, her breath hitching with pleasure as his movements intensified. "You feel so good, filling me up like this."
"You like that, baby?" Spencer's voice was low and sultry. "You like feeling my cock deep inside you, making you mine?"
"Yes," she moaned. "I want you to take me. I want you to fuck me harder."
Spencer's thrusts grew faster and the bed creaked beneath them, the wooden frame protesting the force of their passion. His right hand gripped her thigh forcefully, his fingers digging into her skin as he sought to anchor himself to her. Meanwhile, the fingers of his left hand found their way to her clit once again, expertly stroking the sensitive nub with each rhythmic movement.
With each thrust, his hips rocked against hers, driving deeper into her. The sensation of him filling her so completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.
Y/n's hands roamed over his back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles as she clung to him for dear life. Her nails dug into his skin with every powerful thrust, leaving crescent-shaped imprints.
"Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" Spencer's voice was low against her ear as he pounded into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Oh fuck, yes…" she moaned. "God, yes, I want to cum so badly."
"I'm close, too," he admitted, his voice strained with pleasure.
As Y/n's moans intensified, Spencer continued to pound into her with relentless fervor, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of her impending climax. With each thrust, he felt her walls clenching around him, the tightness driving him to the edge of control.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice strained with desperation, "let me cum inside. I need to feel you come undone around me."
With a fervent nod, Y/n surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body, her walls clenching around his cock as she reached her orgasm.
The feeling of her tightness milking him was all it took to push Spencer over the edge. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his hips grinding against his own release washing over him in powerful waves as they came together.
They stayed there, tangled together, basking in the aftermath of their shared passion. The room was filled with a hazy, contented silence as they caught their breath.
Eventually, Spencer stirred, untangling himself from Y/n's embrace with a reluctant sigh. "I'll grab us a towel," he murmured, slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom.
Returning moments later, he set to work cleaning them both up, his movements gentle and unhurried. There was a quiet intimacy to the way he wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking, as if each touch carried a silent promise of care and affection.
Once they were both cleaned up, Spencer rejoined Y/n in bed, pulling her close once again as they settled into the warmth of each other's arms.
"Hey, how's your head feeling now?" She asked softly with genuine care.
Spencer looked into her eyes, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Much better. Thank you for caring about me and for taking care of me."
"I'm glad you came knocking on my door," she replied warmly.
Spencer chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you know what else helps to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension?" He quipped with a playful smirk.
"Now we know what to do next time you have a headache." With a smile, Y/n leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
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Text
Stomach Bug (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 1,4k
Max hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, he turns into a complete drama king.
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Y/N stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by an unsettling darkness. The silence was even more disturbing; the usual hum and glow from Max's sim racing setup were conspicuously absent. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, fear gripped her heart. When she finally found it, the overhead lights flickered on, casting harsh shadows around the vacant living room.
“Max?” she called out, voice tinged with worry. She received no response, only the quiet pressing back at her. Panic bubbled up, and she hurried through the apartment, her mind racing with possibilities.
In the hallway leading to their bedroom, she tripped over something soft and warm. Looking down, she saw Jimmy and Sassy, their two cats, pacing restlessly. They meowed mournfully, their eyes reflecting the same concern she felt.
With a sense of dread, she pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world. The only light came from a small bedside lamp casting a feeble glow over the disarrayed sheets.
On the bed, Max was curled up in a fetal position, his body trembling slightly. His face was buried in his arms, as if shielding himself. A pained groan escaped his lips.
“Max, oh my god, what's wrong?” she whispered, rushing to his side. She knelt on the floor, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was clammy and feverish.
Max flinched at her touch but didn't move away. “It's... it's the end,” he mumbled dramatically, his voice strained and barely audible. “I'm dying, schatje.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Dying? Max, what happened?” her tone firm but filled with concern. She brushed a few strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead, her fingers lingering to check his temperature. He was burning up.
“It's my stomach,” he groaned, shifting slightly to peer at her with one eye, the other still hidden in his arm. “And I have a fever. I'm pretty sure this is it. Tell the team... tell them I fought bravely.”
Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at his theatrics. “Max, honey, you have a stomach flu and a fever. You're not dying.”
“This is no ordinary flu,” he moaned, clutching his stomach. “I can feel my organs plotting against me. They're staging a coup!”
Despite her worry, a chuckle escaped her lips. “A coup, really? Let me get you some medicine and water. Have you taken anything yet?”
“No,” he replied, his voice pitiful. “I was too weak to move. I thought I should conserve my energy for my final moments.”
“Your final moments are a bit overdramatic,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “I'll be right back.”
Oh, if only everyone could witness how ridiculously cute Max Verstappen looks when he's under the weather.
Jimmy and Sassy jumped onto the bed, curling up near Max's feet as if trying to offer their own comfort. Their presence seemed to soothe him slightly, and he let out a shaky breath.
Y/N returned with a glass of water and some medicine. “Here, take these,” she instructed, helping him sit up. He took the pills with exaggerated effort, making a face as he swallowed them.
“Ugh, even the medicine tastes like defeat,” he grumbled.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh. “The mighty Max Verstappen, laid low by a stomach bug. The world will mourn.”
He cracked a small, weak smile at her teasing. “Stop it, or I'll vomit just to spite you.”
“You're going to be fine,” she reassured him, peppering a few kisses on the side of his head.“Just rest and let the medicine do its job.”
Max sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. “If I don't make it... remember me as I was. Fast, fearless, and full of life.”
Y/N laughed softly while adjusting his pillow and blanket. “I'll remember you as you are: a dramatic, lovable idiot who will be just fine by morning.”
Max managed a weak smile. “I suppose that's acceptable.”
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Y/N watched Max until his breathing slowed and he finally drifted off to sleep. His dramatic groans and exaggerated expressions faded into peaceful slumber, leaving a quiet calm in the room. She smiled softly before turning her attention to Jimmy and Sassy, who were still perched near Max's feet, their eyes wide and attentive.
“Alright, you two,” Y/N whispered, her tone mock-serious. “I need you to keep an eye on our drama king here while I go make dinner. Think you can handle it?”
Jimmy meowed as if to say, “We got this,” while Sassy flicked her tail, as if acknowledging the weighty responsibility.
Y/N chuckled. “Good. If he wakes up and starts acting like he's on his deathbed again, just give him the 'you're being ridiculous' look. You know the one.”
With one last affectionate glance at Max, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen.
As she chopped vegetables, she couldn't help but imagine Jimmy and Sassy as tiny, furry nurses. Jimmy, with a stern expression, patrolling the foot of the bed like a guardian, and Sassy, lounging elegantly, occasionally casting a disapproving glance at Max whenever he stirred or muttered in his sleep.
The thought made her giggle, and she shook her head. “What a day,” she murmured, stirring a pot of carrot soup on the stove.
As she continued cooking, Y/N kept an ear out for any signs of distress from the bedroom. The occasional muffled groan floated down the hallway.
Dinner was almost ready when she heard a particularly loud groan followed by a meow that sounded suspiciously like Jimmy trying to shush Max.
“Looks like my reinforcements are doing their job,” she said with a laugh, pouring the delicious smelling soup into bowls. She added some bread to a plate and carried the tray carefully back to the bedroom.
Entering quietly, she saw that Max was still asleep, albeit with a slightly dramatic frown on his face. Jimmy was curled up by his side, looking very pleased with himself, while Sassy had taken up residence on Max's pillow, one eye half-open in lazy vigilance.
“You two did great,” Y/N whispered, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Now let's see if we can get him to eat something."
As she gently woke Max, he blinked groggily, his eyes focusing on her. “Schat... what time is it?”
“It's half past eight,” she replied softly.
Max groaned, his face scrunching up in dismay. “Oh no, I was supposed to play padel with Lando, Alex, and the others tonight. I forgot to cancel on them.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head affectionately. “Don't worry about it. How about I call Lando for you and let him know you're out of commission for the night?”
Even in his sickness, Max managed to give her an incredulous look. “Why do you even bother asking? You can open my phone anytime. You're practically the other half of my brain.”
She laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his phone. “I just like to be polite, you know? Didn't want to intrude on any top-secret racing strategies.”
Max chuckled weakly, then winced as his stomach reminded him of its displeasure. “Trust me, no strategies. Just lots and lots of cat memes.”
Unlocking his phone, Y/N scrolled through his contacts until she found Lando's number. She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear while keeping an eye on Max.
After a few rings, Lando's cheerful voice answered, “Max! Where are you, mate?”
“Hi, Lando, it's actually Y/N,” she said. “Max is feeling pretty terrible right now. Stomach flu and a fever.”
“Oh no, poor Max.” Lando replied, his tone immediately concerned. “Is he going to survive, or do we need to send an ambulance?”
Max, overhearing the conversation, groaned dramatically from the bed. “Tell him I'm fighting valiantly but I don't know if I'll make it.”
Y/N relayed the message, rolling her eyes playfully. “He says he's fighting valiantly but might not make it.”
Lando laughed. “Classic Max. Tell him to rest up and we'll catch him next time. And give him our best.”
“Will do, Lando. Thanks,” Y/N said, ending the call. She turned back to Max, who was watching her with a tired but grateful smile.
“You always know how to handle everything,” he said softly.
She smiled, setting his phone back on the nightstand and handing him the bowl of soup. “That's what I'm here for. Now, eat this. It's carrot soup, made with love.”
He took the bowl, looking at her with genuine affection. “Thanks, schatje. You're the best. This smells lovely.”
As he eats, Jimmy and Sassy moved in closer, as if to supervise the meal. Y/N sat beside him, ready to keep his spirits high.
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anisespice · 16 days
Text
“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
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synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
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When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
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RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
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SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
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likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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vsimp · 11 months
Text
bitter
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pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader
wc: 3k
genre: angst
summary: where you are in an arranged marriage with him and you rarely ever see him
warning: somewhat traditional housewife roles, negative thoughts
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What a cruel fate it was, to fall in love with a man who neither loves or hates you.
To spend long, cold nights alone. A large, indifferent room divided by two separate futons.
You knew that your husband was a busy man. He worked all night, barely resting during the day, and every time you’ve caught glimpse of his office, there was always a huge mess laying around on his desk. But having been married to him for such a long time, you felt that the distance between you two grew longer and longer every day.
In the morning, you would greet him with the biggest smile you could muster. He would greet you back with the same gentle smile everyday. At this point, you knew what his real smile looked like. You don’t recall when the last time he’s ever given you one.
If Miss Ayaka and Thoma were busy, and you dined alone with your husband, the table would be silent. You didn’t know what to say, and he’d also be reading over papers while eating, so you were afraid to disturb him. If the two were present, or if there were any other guests, Ayato would be more active in the conversation, joking lightheartedly and appearing like he was actually enjoying himself.
This man did not treat you unkindly despite having these feelings that lurked in your chest. In fact, it was the opposite. He was a true gentleman every time you interacted with him. He would open the door for you while you two walked together. He would pull out the chair when you wanted to sit. He would hold your hand and escort you to any event, or if you were getting on/off a carriage.
But it was all superficial. It felt like he was forcing himself to do these actions for you. You couldn’t even tell what his intentions are for doing so. You couldn’t tell if he just disliked you, disliked this arranged marriage, or if he just wanted people to see what a loving husband he was, that everything was okay right now even though it really wasn’t.
From touchless nights to meaningless small talk, your heart ached at the thought of everything. You don’t ever recall the last time he’s kissed you on the lips in private. You don’t recall the last time he’s ever opened up to you about the depths of his heart, from the things that scared him the most, to the things that has made him truly happy.
And while you know that a relationship thrives off of communication, you couldn’t help but feel scared. You were scared that the man in front of you would grow even colder, shutting off the depths of his heart forever, pushing you away if you were to ever confront him. Maybe he’d even take it to an extreme and call off the marriage with you, telling you that he never loved you, as this was really only an arrangement between your two families. Maybe he was in love with someone else prior to this marriage, and he has only reserved his heart for them all of these years.
You have seen his darker sides. He doesn’t think that anyone has noticed, but you have. You were always watching him, after all.
A more mischievous side of him existed deep down in there, a certain sly foxiness that could even rival Guuji Yae herself. Sometimes, it would scare you to see that forced smile on his face as if what lingered in his mind were true thoughts darker than what he had initially led on.
But despite his flaws, despite the mask he constantly wore around, you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You loved how he cared for people despite them being complete strangers to him. You loved his gentle smile as he holds your hand so tenderly when you accidentally trip. How could a man be so kind, yet so cruel to your heart?
And even as you laid in bed most nights alone, shedding tears as if you were the dark side of the crystal moon longing for the light of the sun, you still loved him regardless.
You were in your futon all alone as of this moment, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch black and silent, other than the occasional sounds of the residual droplets from the passing rain. Ayato would never let you rest in a room that was cold, so the temperature was heated comfortably, yet you couldn’t help but bundle yourself up under the covers even more.
It was cold without him. You didn’t even realize when the last time he had actually went to bed in this room you both allegedly shared.
But it didn’t matter anyways because his futon laid far away from yours.
Your own husband wouldn’t even come near you when you’re together in the same room. You didn’t know if he just wanted to be respectful as a formality between husband and wife, or if he is repulsed by being in the same vicinity as you, but it hurt regardless.
You sighed as you covered your face with the blanket, trying to get rid of these harboring thoughts. It was no use, no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him every single night. He is what plagues your mind at night, like a thorn lodged deep in a fingertip. It was only soon that you will be bleeding out your love for him.
How could you make a scene about all of this anyways? You've seen how hard he works. You knew that everything he did, it was for the sake of protecting his family and home. Who were you to complain about how busy he was? That was another reason why you continued to keep silent. You thought that your worries meant nothing compared to his own.
Your mind was racing a mile per minute, and you knew you weren't able to get any sleep like this. You got up and out of your futon as you decided to go for a stroll around the estate. The guards protected the outside and prevented from anybody from coming in. As long as you walked around inside, there should be no problem with you strolling the corridors, so long as you remained quiet.
Lighting up a candle, you started meandering through the halls, your footsteps nearly silent with no goal or destination in mind. You didn't even realize your feet had automatically taken you to the doors of his office, the same door that you have stared at many times, knowing that your husband was in there, but you had no reason or courage to open. You see the dimly lit light through the translucent paper sheets, and you knew that tonight was going to be another long night with no rest for him.
You sighed, not remembering the last time you had been in his office, and you were about to step away, but the door suddenly slides open rather violently. You flinch in shock because you didn’t expect for anything to happen, as he usually never notices your presence.
"Who is there?" He said in a serious tone, and you were finally greeted by the man who plagued your every thought and dreams. His hand laid on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was ready to strike down any intruder who was lurking in the shadows. But instead of drawing his sword, he blinked a few times, realizing it was just you who stood there. He instantly let go of the sword and his expression relaxed a bit, although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly to show confusion. "Y/n? What are you doing here? It is almost 2am right now."
His presence stunned you for a second before you snapped out of the current awe-struck daze you were in. It had been quite a while since you've seen his face. He was rarely home anymore, but when he was, he would be holed up in his office. You only ever see him to greet him when he returned back home, and sometimes when he leaves, as he had a habit of sneaking out secretly every so often.
"Oh." You were flustered at this unexpected situation. "I had trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk..."
"Is something troubling you?" He asked in concern. "If it is work-related with the household, then I know Ayaka would be happy to give you a hand.”
"It's not that..." You shook your head. You didn't want him to worry about you, so you tell him a small lie. "It's just one of those nights..."
"I see."
"Have you been faring well?" You then asked him.
He gave you a small, gentle smile, but you have seen this many times. It was one of the masks he wore when he wasn’t telling the truth.
"I've been doing alright," he replied. Anybody would've believed him, as he would never appear disheveled in front of anybody, but from the way his eyes had a slight dark tint underneath them and the mess that apparently was his desk with papers and pens strewn everywhere, you knew that he was far from so. "I was actually looking to take a break soon from my paperwork. Since you probably will be up for a little bit, would you care to join me?"
An invitation from him was rare, and you immediately jumped ship. You nodded. "Let me go prepare some tea."
"Oh, there's no need to do that."
"Nonsense," you gave him a reassuring smile, knowing what he was going to say. He was so considerate as always, not wanting to trouble you. "It will only be a few.”
You start to walk down the hall to head to the kitchen, but you were surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Before you knew it, Ayato was walking beside you, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest.
"Ayato?" You questioned.
It was dim, as the candle was the only thing that lit the dark halls, so you can barely make out his expression.
"I'll tag along with you then." He said softly, as to not wake anybody else up. "It will be a good change of pace from being stuck in my office all night."
To you, he was so hard to read at times. If he was accompanying you, he surely must have his reasons, as he had never used any of his personal time on you before. He only accompanied you outside when he had a special meeting at an event that required for both spouses to arrive. Those were the only times when he was somewhat affectionate. That was why you were nervous when he decided to come along with you, thinking he had an ulterior motive like he usual does. But a small, small part of you hoped that it was something else; that he wanted to join you because he missed you and just wanted to idly chat.
You stepped into the kitchen and then lit a brighter lantern to illuminate the room using your own candle. But before you could do anything else, you watched as Ayato's hand pushed a portion of your hair aside. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the action, your eyes making its way towards him now that you were able to see his face.
He wore a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at you tenderly. A rare expression indeed, you’ve only noted him to give this look to Ayaka. It made your heart hurt a little as it thumped away in your chest, feeling like you could soar to the moon and never come back.
"Your hair was getting close to the flames, so I didn't want it to burn,” he explained.
"Oh..." You didn't know what else you could say. "Thank you..."
With that, you started boiling the kettle of water, your body moving to find tea leaves. Ayato watches on without speaking a word, and you two drift into a somewhat lulling silence.
As you prepared your leaves, Ayato interrupted the silence no sooner than later.
“There’s another event that the Kanjou Commission is hosting,” he said. There it was. He needed you to attend another political event with him. You were once so naive to think that he would actually spend time with you just because he wanted to. You knew he hated small talk and would rather get straight to the point. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind attending it with me.”
Of course you didn’t mind, if it meant that you would be spending more time with him. But even if you did expect for this, you were still disappointed.
“Sure. When will it be?”
“In two months. They’re hosting a party event to discuss upcoming financial plans for the winter.”
You nodded, your hands a little rougher than usual as you crushed up the dried tea leaves in the mortar. Usually you would hide your emotions well, but it definitely showed in the way you pounded at the leaves.
If Ayato had noticed your switch in moods, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went over to the cabinet to grab two cups for the tea.
“I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
Another blatant lie fueled only by courtesy. He always says this whenever you did a favor for him. If you were to truly ask for a favor, he would have Thoma somehow fulfill it, or he would say that he was too busy to do it himself, and that he would make it up later. He would send a gift, picked out by either Thoma or Ayaka of course, to later apologize for not fulfilling your promise.
And although it has only happened four or five times before you’d stop asking him for favors, knowing that he was too busy to fulfill them, it still left a bitter feeling within you.
You felt that it was selfish for you to feel this way. You knew that he had lost his parents at a young age, having to resume the role as the leader of the Yashiro Commission and head of the Kamisato Clan very early in life. You thought it wasn’t right for you to feel bitter about small things like this. Yet, as you glanced at the man in front of you, who barely looked at you and instead stared at the bright full moon outside, your heart ached at this solemn expression— one that loomed with fatigue and tiredness.
Maybe what you truly longed for was his happiness. Maybe you wanted to share that happiness with him, although you knew it would be a long shot. So long as he was the head of the Yashiro Commission, the leader of the Shuumatsuban, there will always be a distance between you two, as he prioritized things differently from any other typical person. Even though he was in the same room as you right now, as the moon peaked through the small window, the cicadas singing in the distance, he still looked as alone as ever. Like there was an unmeasurable length between you two, and you were too afraid to cross it, in fear that you would never be able to reach him.
The kettle soon starts to heat up, and you take it off the flame to start steeping the tea leaves. A few minutes of silence passed, and you wondered then if he was going to leave immediately after he finished his tea. It was still hot, so you had a couple more minutes left with him, right?
You poured the tea carefully in the cup and then proceeded to hand it over to him.
“It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Thank you,” he smiled at you and graciously accepted the tea. He picked it up to his lips, blowing it a few times as he inhaled the scent. “This smells like a different type of tea than the one you served at the event the other day.”
You remembered that event. You were attending a birthday party for an old couple who were close friends with the Kamisato’s. You brewed that tea with extra care, knowing that Ayato was going to drink it on that very occasion.
“It was truly delicious,” he complimented and you felt your heart soar at his words once more. “I know I never told you this, but it was one of my favorite hot teas.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I smiled, making note to remember that information. “This one that I brewed helps with stress and calms the mind.”
He took a sip once the tea is cooled down a bit more. “I can see how this one can have that effect. It’s a very mild, but calming flavor. It’s a good choice for you to brew this, since it will probably help you sleep.”
Actually, you had brewed it for him, so that he wouldn’t stress so much, but you held your tongue back. Instead, you took a sip of the hot tea, trying to match his pace so that you both could finish at the same time.
“I hope you like it,” you said.
“I do enjoy it quite a bit,” he replied with a small smile on his face. “I will take it to my office and savor it. I appreciate you willing to spend time with me.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“I hope you get some sleep soon, and try not to stay awake for too long,” your husband stated. “Please pardon me, I must return to my work.”
You forced out a smile in return, knowing that he had cut his time off with you short on purpose.
“Have a good night, Ayato.”
He gave a small nod as he walked out with the tea in his hand. You waited for the door to fully shut before you leaned on the counter with your back pressed to it.
He didn't even wait to finish the tea before he left. He just went straight to the point, pushing you aside as if your feelings had never mattered to him in the first place.
Your hands gripped the ceramic tea cup tightly. It felt like if you had held it tight enough, it would shatter and break, scalding your skin like the way your husband did just now.
Your tears dripped into the tea, the salty solution messing with the delicate taste of the drink as you sipped it, not wanting anything to go to waste. What was once a calming, smooth taste was now bitter.
So, so bitter.
It was another cruel, lonely night that awaited you.
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