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#Time for me to take a break from this man
misserabella · 3 days
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ask nicely
bodyguard abby x str!pper reader
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summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?
cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…
you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.
but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.
his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.
lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?
“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.
“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.
you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.
“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.
you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.
you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.
“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.
“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.
“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.
“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.
“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.
you took a sip of your drink, sighing.
“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.
you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?
“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…
“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.
“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.
“only you.”
your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.
“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.
“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.
“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.
“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.
you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.
your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.
“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.
“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.
“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.
“i want you to touch me.”
“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.
“you know what i mean…”
“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.
“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.
“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.
“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.
“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.
“please abby, please. fuck me.”
“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.
she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”
“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.
“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.
“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.
she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.
“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”
“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”
“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.
“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”
“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.
“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”
it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…
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noisilyscreechingsong · 24 hours
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Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.
“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”
Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.
The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.
“Are you sure?”
And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.
The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.
Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.
“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”
Not ominous at all.
Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 
He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.
Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.
The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)
He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.
One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.
Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.
Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.
It’s… nice. A good break if anything.
They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.
“Hi there! Is he yours?”
Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.
“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.
He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.
“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”
Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)
“Sure.”
Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.
“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”
Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.
“Grayson.”
Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.
Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.
Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.
“Funny guy, huh Dami?”
Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.
“Come here, little guy.”
He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.
“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.
Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.
That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.
“Damian,” Batman whispers.
“Bah-mun.”
The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.
Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.
Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.
Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.
“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”
Danny says it so plainly. So simple.
Batman straightens.
“He isn’t yours.”
He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.
Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.
So Damian says nothing.
“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.
“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”
“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.
They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.
“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”
When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.
The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.
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too pretty to think.
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when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…
a. donaldson x reader
word count: 2,216
contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.
Xx
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The first time 
You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,
“r u home?” 
It was hardly out of the ordinary.
“yeah. just changed clothes”
“can i come over?”
“of course”
Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 
He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 
When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.
“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”
Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 
It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.
“Aw, baby,” 
You sway him from side to side. 
“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”
After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 
“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”
Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 
You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 
Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 
“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 
You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 
“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 
Your heart broke for him. 
“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”
You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 
You analyzed his words.
“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”
He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 
“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 
Art froze. 
Well, that’s new. 
You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 
He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 
You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.
I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.
“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 
Eyes are fully closed now.
“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”
He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.
Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 
Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 
You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.
Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.
Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.
You toy with the hem of his shirt. 
“Can I take this off?”
He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 
It causes you to giggle. 
“Thank you.” 
Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 
Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.
Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 
I could do this all day. 
Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.
“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 
Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.
“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”
Who are you to refuse him?
“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 
You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 
You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 
You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 
“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”
“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 
You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.
“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”
We haven’t done a lot of this before. 
He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 
“I don’t want to crush you.”
At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 
“You won’t.” 
Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 
His tongue reaches new trenches. 
And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 
“Shit. Just like that.” 
Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 
“Oh god, oh god,” 
Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 
The only thing he knew was your body. 
You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 
“You made mommy feel so good.”
He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 
“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 
He whimpered and nodded. 
You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 
The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 
It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 
“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”
He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 
You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 
When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 
“Such a good boy.” 
His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 
You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 
“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”
Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 
You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 
“Did you cum for me, baby?”
“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“
“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 
“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 
“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 
You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 
“Can we go again please?”
“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”
He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 
“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 
It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 
“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 
There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.
“So wet and needy.” 
You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 
“You gonna let me take you again?”
He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.
“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”
And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 
What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 
You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 
“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”
A kiss to his forehead. 
“You know I love you so much.”
Tucked under the covers.
“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”
You raked your nails along his back.
“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”
You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 
“Are you leaving?” 
He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 
“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 
You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.
“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”
You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 
“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 
The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.
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chilumi-shipper · 2 days
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Dragonic Beings
Zhongli x Fem!Reader / Neuvillette x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Breeding Kink, Marathon Sex, They both have two cocks, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Manhandling, Cunnilingus, Oral Giving, Neuvi is an ancient virgin
Summary: They fuck you in semi-dragon forms.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Zhongli
You looked up at the man that was almost two times taller than you.
He was breathing heavily, his limbs glowed a bright golden color, and most notable of all, he was completely naked.
Actually...
That isn't the most notable thing here...
As you looked down, you saw two bulging hard cocks between his legs, both emitting that same glow that his limbs have.
The tips leaked with pre-cum, twitching as if asking to be touched.
You stood there in shock, and your husband could only look at you sheepishly. "...I'd understand if you refuse my request. You are human after all, my dear. I do not want to hurt you."
"N-No... no... I..." You took a step closer to him, looking up into his eyes. "Darling, you said that being in this form... would make you feel the most pleasure during our intercourse, correct?" He nodded at your question, looking away as if he's ashamed.
"Then..." You untied your robe, letting it fall to the ground to show off your body to him. "Use me all you want for your pleasure, dear."
He knew he had to control himself.
But still, he had you on your shared bed within a second, "I need you to be well lubricated, my dear." As he spoke, you noticed that his tongue was longer, had a slit in the middle and thinner than his human form.
Above you, he bared his tongue, gliding over the valley of your breasts before making his way down to your cunt, already pooling with wetness.
His tongue... it does wonders, and he probably knows that given the smirk you feel against your skin as he licks into you.
"Darling..." You mewed, toes curling when he took your clit into his hot mouth, sucking on your pussy earnestly while his tongue entered your hole.
Your hands itched to grab onto something, eventually ending up wrapped around his horns. He ate you out like a hungry man served a feast prepared by the gods' hands, and you held onto his horns, pushing and pulling to get him to prod at the sweet spots.
He pushed you to many many orgasms without a single break, and by the time he parted with your cunt, a string of cum still connecting his lips to yours, you were soaked and looking ready.
"Zhongli..." You parted your legs, letting him have a look at you sopping wet core. "It's your turn to pleasure yourself."
He locked eyes with you, his gaze piercing as his breath turns heavy. "Y/N, I need you to understand. When I start, it will be very hard for me to stop. I will use you until I'm fully satisfied and I've filled you up with my seed." You raised your hand to caress his cheek, smiling despite the seriousness of his tone. "And it may take more than just one round."
You brought his face down to give his lips a sweet kiss, "That sounds amazing..." You whispered, lighting a fire in his core as you gave him your full consent.
"You're gonna make me insane, darling." He sighs, knowing that no matter how he explains, you're not gonna pass up on this moment. "I truly may want to fuck you forever, you taste too divine..."
Your body perked up with excitement when he talked like that, it's something you don't hear from his often, but it really turned you on.
The tip of one of his cocks prods at your entrance, the other was left hanging between the both of you as he pushed in. A groan immediately left him when your walls clamped down.
He pushed until the whole thing was in, staying still to let you accommodate his length before slowly moving to caress your insides.
Your lover has two massive cocks, even just the one inside you already made you feel full, but you still couldn't help but look at the one between the both of you, left red and hard, precum still leaking from the tip, looking like it's about to burst.
"Ughh, darling..." His hand instinctively went to grab yours when it went to rub his neglected dick, but you don't stop, still caressing up and down, even occasionally rubbing the tip with your thumb and spreading the precum.
You tightened around him, catching his attention. "Fuck me, darling, please..." And so he does, from slow thrusts, he switched to a fast pace, starting to pound into you over and over.
Moans echoed around the room, and no matter how much you tried to stop yourself, he hammered whimpers, cries, even begs out of you. You couldn't even rub his other cock anymore, so he opted to fuck both your pussy and hand with his thrusts.
"Ohh, love! I'm gonna cum...!" You cried, legs opening even more to let his tip hit all the way to the entrance of your cervix.
Hearing you say that, he went even faster, and you felt the cock in your hand drip juices on your stomach, probably indicating that he's also close.
"Cum with me, darling." He groaned, giving you a few more hard thrusts before a large amount of liquid flowed out of him, covering your stomach as you felt your core fill up with your shared cum. His seed spread warmth all over you, inside you, and you felt your body relax.
Of course, even with the massive amount of cum that came from both his cocks, his hardness did not falter, and you still feel the hard shaft filling up your inside.
When you looked up at him, you see his eyes glowing gold, behind them held the gaze of desire. He picked you up, sitting you on his lap with his dick still inside you.
You can't help but feel bad for one of his lengths, if it had feelings it would probably be sad being left out of your pussy.
"Zhongli..." You slowly got up, up until only the tip of one of his cocks was inside you. He growled at what you did, but you immediately reassured him by grabbing his other shaft and lining it up to your entrance. "Can I put both inside me?"
He nodded excitedly, holding onto your waist to guide you down so both the tip were inside you. It was really gonna push you to the edge, but you wanted it, and you can't disappoint the cute little dragon that is your husband.
You pushed yourself down, stopping halfway as you felt his cocks stretch you out to your limit. "Ahh, it hurts..." Tears coat your eyes and so your lover's gaze softens.
"My darling, it's okay, take your time. You're such a good girl for me." He wrapped his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck as he kissed your temple.
"That's it, my dear, you're doing so good." With his encouragement, you managed to take both of his length entirely. He lets you cockwarm him for a few minutes just to let you get used to the girth of his cocks.
Then, his brutal thrusts start. He holds onto your waist, even his tail wrapped itself around you for a better grip, bringing you up and down on him like a fleshlight. Your mind blurred as he moves you faster and faster, you were left to drool and mumble nonsense as he makes you fuck him.
You came many times before he did, and his cum was just as before, filling you so much to the brim that some flowed out of you.
Not once after that did he pull out of you, he let you rest for a few moments before urging you into another position, after every orgasm the cycle continues.
With your legs pressed against your chest, against the wall, over the table, in front of the mirror, he did it all. You were fucked dumb, but you loved it. You could not think straight or speak anything coherent, but all you would say anyway was how good you felt.
When he finally softened, pulled out of you, he let you lay down on your shared bed, kissing you softly. "My dear... I love you so much." You could not close your legs to prevent the excessive amount of his cum to spill out. "I'm sorry for being so rough."
"Love youuu..." You slurred tiredly, your eyes slowly shutting as exhausted took over you.
Zhongli smiled, proceeding to clean you up nice and good. He then laid next to you, cuddling you and proving you with warmth.
After such a long night, he's gonna treat you to the best pampering day of your life.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Neuvillette
Never once has the Chief Justice, in his thousands of years of age, ever had an intimate moment, perhaps because he has also never had a romantic partner to revel in a moment of hot bliss.
So when you got around in the point of your relationship where you started living with him, wearing more dainty and loose clothes around him, kissing him on his face, neck, lips, cuddling with him every night, he started to notice the slight warmth that engulfs him when he interacts with you.
That warming bliss he felt quickly turned into burning desire, one that deeply confused him. It felt like he was thirsty, and only you, touching you, could satiate his thirst, as well as ease the hardness that keeps bulking up in his pants.
There was even this one time, you were both caught up in a heated make-out session, and Neuvillette felt light-headed as something hot exploded out and covered his crotch. He really did just cum while making out with you, no other form of sensation pushing him over the edge.
Long story short, you tucked your blushing lover to bed with a kiss to his forehead, explaining to him that it was okay and that you were flattered while he continuously apologized for what he did.
Ever since then, Neuvillette has been doing some research about all those sexual things, even asking a poor librarian to explain to him in detail about why he feels so attracted to you.
"Why do I always imagine my wife and I doing these 'sexual' things?" The poor librarian wanted to evaporate as he was forced to explain to the Chief Justice what horniness is and discover for himself the true nature of the Iudex of Fontaine (very horny for his wife).
You noticed that he has been showing signs of... really wanting you... all the time, so you eventually invite him to do it.
Now... there is one problem... something he had neglected to tell you.
When you both stripped yourself down of both your clothes, you did not expect to see two girthy shafts begging for you.
"Ah..." He said flatly, seeing your shocked expression. "I... seem to have forgotten to inform you of... this."
It's hard to explain how you were both shocked.... and turned on by the sight. You reasoned to yourself that it makes sense cause he is a dragon.
"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I'm afraid I never had to say to anyone that I have two... so I forgot." He looks ashamed, and your heart nearly broke for your sweet dragon.
"Honey, it's okay. I... like them." You laughed a little at what you said, but you still caressed his cheeks to reassure him. "Do you want me to suck them for you?"
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
His eyes widened, oh but his mind immediately wanted to say yes. "Please..."
You bring one of his shafts into your hot mouth, covering it with your saliva to smoothly take it in and out. Your tongue worked wonders to lick around him and press against his tip as you suck at the top.
His thighs quivered at the foreign feeling of pleasure, he wished you would never stop, but he also can't help but notice his other cock, left dry and hard as a rock, standing with obvious veins running through it as it craves the same treatment as the other.
It may be selfish but he took the length into his hand, pressing it onto your cheek while you were still working on his other. You look up to see your blushing husband looking sheepishly at you.
You part from his cock with a pop. "But of course, how could I forget this one. Ohh, just look at it..." You feign pity for it, before pressing your lips at the tip, giving it a sweet kiss.
As you cover his neglected cock with kisses, Neuvillette looks at you with shock, shock ignited by his love for what you're doing, peppering his length with kisses before you suck on it hard... it works him up to his climax.
And when he reached that euphoria, cum spurts out of both his cocks, one filling your mouth and the other exploding to cover one side of your cheek as well as his thigh.
You swallowed, smiling at the expression he had on his face as you did so. "You seem to like that, darling..." You giggled, looking down at the mess between his legs while you wipe some cum of your face with a towel you prepared.
"But it seems like it's not enough, is it?" You added, seeing his two cocks harden once again.
"My love, I apologize... I believe that a dragon possesses a higher stamina for these kinds of activities." He looks shameful, avoiding your gaze.
"It took a minute for me to suck you off before you came, honey..." You sit up on his stomach, and he finally gets to fully see your naked form.
He drools at the sight of you, "...Is that a bad thing...?" He asked, hoping to not have disappointed you.
"No, of course not. I just didn't realize I was that good."
"You really... make me... um... feel good..." He says in stutters, having no knowledge in this sort of thing, he has no idea how to praise your... service(?).
You grab hold of one of his cocks again, lining it up to your heat. "I'm sure you'll make me feel good too, my love."
As you plunged him deep inside you, he couldn't take his eyes off where you two connect, his mouth watering at the sight of you fully taking one of his in. He might as well have heart-shaped pupils with the way he's looking at it.
You started with rolling your hips, making him hit all the spots inside you that had your eyes rolling back. "Oh Archons... You fill me up so... good..." You moaned, and he feels a great sense of accomplishment with the way you praise him.
You started lifting yourself up and down to caress his dick, and his eyes travelled to your bouncing breasts, and, seemingly on instinct, his hands cupped your mounds and massaged them, feeling flushed at how soft and squishy they are.
As he did so, you looked at and smiled at him, never ending your your movement. Your hand reached to caress one of his own, encouraging him to keep going.
Neuvillette's moans were laced with some sort of humility, quiet yet you hear the lust within his being. He tries to keep them in, but with every hit of his tip to your inside, he could not hold back the whimpers to builds up within him.
You notice this and stop bouncing, which ushered a whine out of him. But his hands immediately go to your waist when you start squeezing him with your pussy walls.
"Ughhh... Y/N... T-That feels..."
"Let it out, darling..." You keep him tight and snug inside you. "You like me squeezing this cock with my pussy, right?"
You feel liquid falling on your lower back, and as you looked, you see his other cock, exploding with more cum. "Hmm, this one seems to like a little bit of dirty talk, huh?"
With a few final bounce and squeeze, you both came together again, him filling you up with his thick, warm cum.
After that, you proceed to clean up the poor little dragon, laying down and looking so blissed out from the session.
As you wipe his one of cocks clean, "I'll make sure to give this one some attention next time." You secured your promise with a final kiss on the tip, and Neuvillette once again realizes just how much he loves you doing that.
You lay down next to him, cuddling him into your chest, and, while quite embarrassed, he was more than happy to lay his face right onto your boobs. He tries not to think about how you had just sparked the greatest feeling of pleasure within him and how he's eager to learn more from his library friend so he can make you feel just as good as you make him.
The Chief Justice has finally realized the solution to that burning desire he feels, the reason for his wild imaginations when it comes to you...
He can't wait to tell his librarian friend every detail he has learned on his first night making love with you.
I hc Zhongli to have experience, so like, he knows what he wants, knows how to prep you for it, knows how crazy he gets and how much stamina he has to keep going.
Meanwhile, Neuvi has no experience, so he's discovering what he likes for the first time, discovering how to make it work with his anatomy and yours, and he kinda gets addicted to the feeling of making love with you so he will definitely crave it more in the future.
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watchmegetobsessed · 23 hours
Text
MAKE HER REGRET IT
A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!
WORD COUNT: 4.1k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.
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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago. 
You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child. 
Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles. 
It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor. 
“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks. 
“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent. 
Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason. 
You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe. 
When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much. 
The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery. 
“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression. 
“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts. 
Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him. 
“What’s up?”
“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”
Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside. 
“Do tell me.”
Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter. 
“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”
“When will the part where I can help come?”
“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”
You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him. 
“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”
The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much. 
“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”
“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing. 
“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”
“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide. 
“Y-You will do it?”
“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well. 
“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there.”
For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell. 
When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever. 
“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head. 
“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”
“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.
“Sorry, yeah come inside.”
“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with. 
“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”
“I have.”
“Really?”
“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”
“Then… I trust you with anything.”
“What’s the goal?”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind. 
“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”
“I want to make her regret it.”
“Regret what she said?”
“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises. 
“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly. 
At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation. 
And then the bell rings. 
“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again. 
You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you. 
“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up. 
“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable. 
“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”
Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well. 
“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it. 
“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”
“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”
“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues. 
“That’s none of my business.”
“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”
“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.
Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here. 
“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.
“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”
“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”
It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature. 
“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”
She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her. 
And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts. 
“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.
“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”
“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”
“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything. 
You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost. 
“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move. 
Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily. 
It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. 
It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses. 
And then you remember you’re not alone. 
“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it. 
“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.
“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly. 
Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned. 
“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you. 
Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.
“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”
The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his. 
Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like. 
“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 
“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast. 
“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door. 
“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”
He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.
“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 
The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit. 
“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars. 
You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before. 
You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone. 
You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is. 
“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining. 
Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time. 
When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing. 
“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”
“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly. 
“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.
“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.”
He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before. 
“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.
“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now. 
“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard. 
There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work. 
“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words. 
“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”
You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge. 
Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you. 
“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”
You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair. 
When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble. 
Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes. 
“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”
Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss. 
“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”
“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily. 
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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kxsalt · 3 days
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Part 1, Part 2, this is Part 3.
“My favourite subject…” The needy student flips through the biology textbook. Her teacher sits next to her on the bed. She needed his tutelage; she needed his attention. He was happy to take his spare time to ensure his student got everything she needed.
They discuss nature. The animal exists to procreate, to breed. He explains the theory, losing his train of thought. She stares and nods, forgetting to listen to his words. They fantasize about each other. It’s only natural.
“What was I talking about?” “Uhm, I forgot. Sorry.” “I got distracted.” “Me too.” A long silence hangs between them as they let the fantasy play out.
The teacher puts his hand on the student’s thigh. “Let’s try a more practical exercise.”
She straddles him immediately, pressing her lips into her teacher. Their first kiss, with tongue. Sloppy, wet licking as he gropes her. The student grinds her pussy into his crotch, feeling his hard cock though his slacks. The teacher grips her ass. Pulling up her skirt, he gives her a smack on the bum. The girl whimpers and grinds faster against his cock. She presses her tits against his chest, rubbing her nipples against him, begging for more spanking.
As he spanks her bare ass, they start to strip each other. Shirts tossed aside, the student slides down his legs to the floor. Humping his shin, all four hands undo his pants. The girl starts to give her teacher the blowjob they always dreamed of. His hands grip her hair, sliding her mouth onto his dick like a cocksleeve. Her drenched pussy is excited just to rub against his leg.
He picks her up. She’s weightless. He tosses her on the bed. She’s helpless. The teacher spreads her legs open wide and licks her needy, attention-starved cunt. Strong hands work into her submissive pussy. Two fingers, then three, stretch out her hole. His lips suck on her clit, his eyes never leave her heaving chest. Fingers push into her gasping mouth, first two, then three.
Crawling on all fours, the man climbs on top of the young girl. He pins her wrists to the pillow, she catches his tongue with hers. The teacher’s thick cock finds his student’s wet pussy. She pulls her legs up high to get him as deep as possible. His thighs spank her ass as he pushes himself all the way inside her with each thrust.
Rough breeding sex with her hot teacher. Letting him take her body how he wants. The student lets her fantasy run wild. Fucking her little whore pussy and filling her up with his cum. Pushing her into the mattress because she’s just a sex toy for him. Being the best student by asking him to tutor her in basic biology. Teacher’s pet, teacher’s cum dump.
Breaking in his slutty student. Put her in her place; cunt stretched out his dick. The teacher’s fantasy intertwines with hers. That cocktease needs a proper fucking. Boys her age wouldn’t know what to do with a slut like her. She needs an older man to show her what her wet pussy is good for. I need to teach her how to be a fuckdoll.
The fantasy ends the way it always does. They make each other cum. She cries from the stimulation while he growls and pounds into her. He floods her needy pussy, pushing in deep to make sure every drop of his cum is inside her.
He pulls his cock from her pussy and shakes his head to clear away his vivid daydream. The naked, panting girl stares up at him with teary eyes. The teacher blinks rapidly, expecting to see her clothed again. A thick stream of cum runs out of her used hole. The student touches herself and licks her fingers. He rubs his eyes and looks at the bruises on her wrists. She touches him, and feels his cock start to get hard again.
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thebearer · 2 days
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please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭
should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol
but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.
he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".
"richie said-"
"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"
"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."
so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.
pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.
"carm, h-hey, man-"
"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.
"uh, i-i don't-"
"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.
a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.
pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."
"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.
"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."
carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.
"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"
"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"
"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"
"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."
"nat-"
"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"
"-i am-"
"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"
"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.
sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"
"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."
carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.
"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"
"-i-i'm not-"
"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.
"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."
carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.
"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."
she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.
fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"
carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"
"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"
fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"
"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.
"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.
"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."
fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.
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lavenderspence · 3 days
Text
To Lean On You | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader
Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.
Word Count: 8.6K
Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 
A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3
Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:
Hearts by Jessie Ware
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift
Lost Without You by Freya Ridings
In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles
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79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.
70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.
65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 
Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.
March 4th, 2017
It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 
Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 
Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 
Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 
Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.
“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”
You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 
You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  
“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 
Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.
“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 
“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.
“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 
“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 
You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  
For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 
“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.
"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.
All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 
“Emily-” she cut you off.
“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.
“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 
As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.
“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 
You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 
His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.
Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 
“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”
You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 
You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 
You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 
You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 
You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 
“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 
You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 
And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.
“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 
“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 
“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 
“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.
“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 
“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 
“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.
You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.
“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 
She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 
“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 
“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 
“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 
“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.
“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off
“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 
“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 
“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 
“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 
Spencer’s POV
The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 
In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 
Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.
He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 
He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 
In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 
Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 
His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 
Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 
He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.
He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.
Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 
As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?
“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 
In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 
“Do what?”
She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 
“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 
Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 
Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 
For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 
Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 
He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.
And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 
He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 
Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 
Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 
How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.
Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 
Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 
Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 
And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 
Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.
Your POV
You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 
You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 
There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 
Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 
It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 
Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 
As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.
It’d either make or break you both.
You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.
You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 
The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 
Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 
Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.
You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.
Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 
Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  
You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 
He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 
70 days of slowly killing you both.
When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.
His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.
Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 
Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 
89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 
When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 
His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 
One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 
“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 
His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 
Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 
“That’s not fair.”
You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.
“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 
If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 
You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 
His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.
“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 
He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 
“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 
He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 
He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 
He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 
Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 
“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.
Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 
Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 
The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 
And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 
If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 
And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 
You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 
You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 
He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 
You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 
After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 
It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 
“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 
You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 
“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 
You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 
“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 
You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 
“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 
“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.
“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 
And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 
To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 
He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.
“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 
“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 
“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 
“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 
"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 
Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 
You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.
“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.
He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 
“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 
His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 
If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 
A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.
“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.
Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 
“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 
He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 
He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 
It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 
Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.
When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.
And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 
“I love you.” 
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Please can you write about ex boyfriend Konig can't moved on from reader. He sneaked in her house and raped her. She resist him at first but then he just dicks her down.
You Can't Leave Me (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, rape, stalking, toxic ex, p in v, oral
1.8k word count
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It’s now been eight months since you’ve broken up with König. When you found out about the trackers he put on your phone and car, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Since then, you’ve moved into your own apartment an hour away from König. Your phone number has been changed along with all social media deactivated.
The last several months have been hard, but you’ve been pushing through so well. Too well, actually. König never lost track of you. He knows your new address, phone number, job, and schedule. You changed your scenery, but not who you are. So, when you left one day, he knew where to look.
Of course, you move to your favorite city. You know König hates the city. He never wanted to move here. You move into the apartment that is only ten minutes from a bookstore, one that you become a frequent customer of quickly. König knows you like the back of his hand. There is no escaping him.
One thing he didn’t expect was you finding someone so quickly. It’s only been eight months. You were together for five years. It should take you longer to move on before realizing there is no one else for you. What the fuck is this?
König walks behind you at a distance as you walk to your date. Wearing a yellow summer dress compliments your body, paired with white sandals. Is that…make-up? That’s not right, you don’t wear make-up; you don’t need it. You’re so naturally beautiful. 
He watches you walk into a café. A very handsome brunette man stands and hugs you. His hand resting above your ass, comfortable with your body as if he’s touched it already. When did he miss this? He glares at the two of you before walking away and going to your apartment.
While you’re out on your nice little date, König breaks into your apartment. Not really breaking in when he finds your spare and uses it, right? He enters your apartment for the first time, taking a deep breath. It smells just like you.
König walks throughout your home, looking at the new photos on the wall of your city friends. One of you with this new guy. He knocks it over. He continues on to your bedroom, seeing your bed is messy; you never make it. His eyes drift to the floor where he sees a pair of black underwear. With little thought, he stands and walks to them. A little white stain, you were aroused? By what? Who?
König lifts the underwear under his mask and to his nose, taking in a deep breath. Exquisite. He shoves the underwear into his pocket and keeps looking. Stepping into your bathroom, he turns the light on. His eyes fall to a little purple case near the sink. It can’t be. Is his little Schatz on birth control?
A sharp stinging feeling deep in his gut travels up to his heart. The mental image of that pathetic worthless man going raw into his Kleine Perle disgust him. You’re whoring yourself out, he knew you’d be lost without him.
He turns the light off and sits on the toilet, pulling out your panties to sniff while he waits for you. An hour passes and he began to grow worried that maybe you went back home with that loser. Right as he was going to check his phone, he hears your keys in the door.
You enter your apartment while on the phone. For safety, you always call a friend while walking.
“Yeah, I’m home now though. I love you, Ann. I’ll see you Tuesday.” Once you hang up, you kick your shoes off and place your purse on the hook.
As you pass your photos in the living room, you notice the photo of you and Finn has been knocked over. A wave of anxiety rushes over you. You try to reason with yourself. It’s almost been a year and you’ve never seen König. He’s probably moved on the same way you have.
You enter your bedroom and turn the lights on. The door closes behind you as you take off your dress, tossing it into the hamper. You grab out a pair of pajamas, placing them on your bed. Reaching behind your back, you unhook your bra, tossing it aside. When you do, you look down at the floor and notice your black pair of underwear is missing.
Maybe you put it in the hamper? Slowly, you walk to the hamper and look inside. At that moment, your bathroom door opens. Your eyes go up and meet the dreadful pale blue eyes. Your heart beat sky rockets, your feet moving ahead of your brain as you turn to run.
König is fast. He reaches out and wraps his arms tightly around your stomach. Lifting you in the air as you kick and scream, slamming you down hard on the bed. The air leaves your lungs and your screaming stops. König pulls out your underwear from his pocket and shoves it into your mouth. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind your back, pulling off his belt with one hand and tying your hands together.
When you try to kick him to get away, but he just climbs on you, resting his weight on you. “Where are you trying to go, Hase?” He growls.
Your screams are muffles as you try to squirm away from König.
“I saw your birth control pills.” He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back. “That is still my pussy. You are still mine.”
You shake your head no and try to break free from his grasp. His 6 ’10 280 lb body is just too big to fight back against.
König’s hands begin to travel along your mostly naked body. Your skin is just as soft as he remembers. His finger hooks your panties and moves it down. You buck backwards like a horse and try to kick him. A heavy hand comes down and spanks your ass cheek, you whimper.
“Stay still. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” König finishes pulling your underwear off completely before standing off of your body and getting undressed.
“It’s a shame you thought that you could get away from me. Bigger shame you decided to give away my body to another man. You know I don’t like that.” You can hear his pants drop to the floor finally.
König walks to your body and drags you to the center of the bed. He joins you on the bed, spreading your ass cheeks and pushing his face between them, taking a deep breath.
“That’s still my fucking pussy.” He grabs your ass and jiggles them before climbing over you, one leg on either side of your thighs.
His heavy cock slaps against your cheeks. He spits in his hand and rubs it around the tip of his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds. The feeling of his cock being pressed up against your entrance makes you squirm your hips, but that doesn’t stop König.
König spreads your ass cheeks with his hands so he can have a clear view of your pussy. He looks down at you and pushes himself into you. You tense up, only making yourself tighter for him. A loud moan leaves his lips as he buries his cock deep inside of your pussy.
He doesn’t allow you any time to adjust to his enormous dick as he slams his hips into you. You shake your body, trying your best to break free of his belt around your hands. Eventually you manage to spit your underwear out.
“Stop!” You cry out as you kick your legs as you writhe under him.
“Just take my cock.” He groans.
One of his hands comes down on your head and pushes your face into the pillow, holding you there as he picks up his pace. He rams his cock hard enough to cause pain, forcing the full length of his cock into your tight cunt. Your cries are muffled.
König yanks his head back and forces your head up. “What? You can’t handle my cock anymore?”
“Fuck you! Get off of me!”
“What? You don’t like my cock anymore?” He asks in a condescending tone.
“No!”
“Shut up.”  He pulls his cock out of your pussy, grabbing you by your hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
König puts you on your back and slaps his cock on your lips, rubbing it back and forth. You try to turn your head but he grabs your jaw and forces you to stay still. The tip of his cock presses against your lips pressed tightly together.
“Open.” He lightly taps the side of your face.
Your mouth opens and König shoves himself inside. He forces his way into your throat, finger tracing the outline of his cock appearing. You gag, causing spit to come out of your mouth and on to your face. König keeps pressing in until his balls are resting on your face. Not being about to breathe, you kick and arch your body.
“Shhhh, calm down. You can take it.” He pushes even further.
König begins to rock his hips, fucking your throat. His heavy balls hitting your face over and over. This causes you to gag again and you throw up, turning your head to the side and vomiting on the floor. He laughs, “Are you going to be a good girl or should I keep going?”
“I’ll be good.” You pant with tears in your eyes.
“Gut.” König growls as he walks to the other side of the bed, joining you.
He lays behind you, lifting one of your legs and tells you to hold it. His hand covered in your spit handles his cock as he slips it into your pussy. Your gummy cunt welcomes him back. König grabs your face and turns your face to his.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Mine.”
“Say it, Schatz.” His voice trembling as he bullies his cock deep inside of you.
You try to suppress the orgasmic feeling his cock gives you. As much as you like Finn, his cock is nothing compared to König’s. No matter how toxic König is, you can’t help but to miss him.
“Yours.” You moan out bashfully, hating yourself.
“What was that?” A grin crosses König’s lips.
“It’s yours!” You angrily moan.
“Fuck yes!” König rolls his body on top of yours, your leg pushed over as he grasps your hip and thigh. As he thrust into you, he pulls your back to meet his thrust.
Pitiful mewls freely leave your lips; a mixture of shame and euphoria consumes your whole body. You look back at him, your eyes meeting, as you see the same possessive glare in his eyes as he always has. Will you ever escape this man?
213 notes · View notes
sonarspace · 3 days
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deception, nanami
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content: mdni. angst. soft sex. breeding kink (? kinda) wc: 1.1k a/n: trying to get out of my writing slump but it’s bad! so here’s this…
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
nanami’s laying in your arms when he gets a call from ijichi telling him he needs to be at shibuya in an hour. and instantly you’re being filled with dread. “don’t leave,” you tell him as soon as he hangs up the phone.
but he’s already buttoning up his shirt. you huff a frustrated breath and follow him to the bathroom where he fixes his blonde locks.
“don’t go, please” you try again your voice breaking. his eyes meet yours through the mirror. your lips wobble as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. he turns around his eyes creased in worry. “darling, what’s wrong?” his voice’s sweet and soft dripping honey with every word he speaks.
“i’m scared,” you voice your worries into his chest – wetting his blue shirt with your salty tears. he tilts your face to meet his eyes. you’re quietly sobbing now – eyes red and nose turning a shade darker.
“don’t leave me,” your melancholic voice tugs at his heart. he can’t leave them when they need him the most. “i have to, it’s urgent.” he just says in return. it was hurting him to see you like this. be away from you in this state.
“no, ken, please” you drag out the word. his lips match your downturned lips. he hated not doing what you asked of him but this was different. he had people relying on him – the higher ups, his colleagues, the students, the first years…
he drops his head to yours in defeat. his fingers brush away the tears streaking your cheeks. “take me with you,” you request. “you’re pregnant,” he retorts. “so what, i can protect us,” you argue back. your technique similar to gojo’s, allows you to create an invisible barrier. the only difference was, you could include other people.
“i’m not even sure what’s happening there but i don’t wanna risk your safety.” he says placing his hand on your bump. he feels a light kick against his hand and smiles. “it’ll make you use too much cursed energy, there are too many people there,” he adds. “ken,” you’re about to say but you feel another kick – harder this time. as if telling you to listen to him.
he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. a part of him hurts as he lies “i’ll come back”.
“i love you kid,” he whispers as he places a kiss against your stomach. “i love you,” he tells you. holding your face firmly and placing a kiss against your lips — once, twice, and finally a third time. “i’m going to marry you when i get back,” he murmurs against your lips eliciting a teary laugh from your lips.
“promise,” you ask. “promise”. he vows.
but he doesn’t come back that night. or the night after. and you know it was normal for him to take a day or two for missions but the lack of texts and calls has you crying into his pillow. a text chimes from other side of the room. you get up and move quickly — shoko’s name on your screen. you feel like your heart going to jump out of your throat. this can’t be good.
shoko: i’m so sorry.
and you don’t need to read more cause your worst fear has come true. the phone slips out of your hand and hits the floor with a loud clack. you follow as your knees buckle and a weeping “no” erupts your throat.
you gasp for air through your cries. a set of arms pulls you into a hug. “i’m here, i’m here,” he whispers into your hair. “baby, i’m here.” he says again – louder this time. you calm down slightly pulling away from the embrace to see the face of the man you love so dearly.
“kento,” your voice cracks. a hand reaching up to touch his face. was he real? you feel his freshly trimmed hair prick your fingertips as your trace his face freely. his pink lips that kiss you and mark you like a canvas, his slender nose that nudges against yours playfully, & his brown eyes that never failed to take your breath away. “kento,” you say once again.
“yes, baby.” his eyes twinkle with love for you. “are you real,” you ask hazy from sleep. “i’m real,” he lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “you had another nightmare,” he cups your face and wipes away dried tears from your cheeks.
“i’m here. i’m okay. you’re okay. we’re okay.” he confirms. you sigh against his hand. his cold ring presses against your cheek and you’re reminded you’re married — have been married for a year.
you lay your head on his chest and he rubs your back comfortingly. “i was pregnant in my dream and you weren’t there”. he huffs in return. “and that’s why it’s just a dream. i’d never leave you. much less when you’re pregnant.” you smile into his chest.
“i want a baby,” you say. his body rumbles under yours with joyous laughter. “yeah?” he asks with a grin – his thumb under your chin pulling your face up to face him. “yeah,” you kiss him.
he kisses you back. his hand moves down to your neck – rubbing over your quickening pulse. you pull back and let his oversized button up fall off your shoulders. the slightly opened windows lets in a gentle breeze and hugs your body. the night sky is filled with moving pink clouds.
the sound of salty waves from outside, along with nanami’s gasping moan fills your ears as you lower yourself onto him. “ahhh,” your plushy walls are snug around his cock, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought.
before you can move too much, he flips you over. as much as he loved seeing you on top of him, he loved having you underneath him even more. loved seeing the way your eyes rolled back as he thrusts into you. the way your lips parted in moans and whines of his name.
“ken,” you whimper. he drops his head into your neck. kissing and biting at your soft skin. lolling out his tongue to soothe a bite. you wrap your arms around him. your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace. the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter at the way his cock pushes against that sweet spot in you – turning your brain to mush and leaving your sentences incomplete.
your legs shake around his waist as you cum with a loud cry of his name. “you sure you want me to fill you up” he asks as you calm down from your orgasm. “filthy girl,” he teases when you nod with his fingers occupying your mouth. a muffled yes is all he needs to dump ropes and ropes of his seed deep into you. he pulls out his fingers from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue.
“we’re gonna make a baby,” he groans happily into your mouth.
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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prythianpages · 2 days
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Too Good To Be True | Lucien x Reader
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...you're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...
summary: in which your newest muse catches you red handed.
word count: 1,600
a/n: I do struggle writing Lucien but I had seen this tiktok and wanted to write a meet-cute over it and when I saw this fanart above made by IG user kri_stasss_, I took this as a sign lol. I also listened to the song can't take my eyes off of you like 100x while writing this.
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With a sigh, you lean back into your seat, allowing your eyes a break. You had been sitting at the corner of the bustling cafe for over an hour, choosing to surround yourself with Velaris’s warmth and the smell of coffee in the hopes to finally draw something.  But your sketchbook is spread open on the table with a half-finished drawing.
You look at the view before you, the Sidra River shimmering like pure sapphire under the sun’s gaze. The leaves of surrounding trees rustling gently in the soft spring breeze and flowers vibrant hues adorn the riverwalk. It’s a beautiful sight–one that many stop and admire. Yet, it is not enough to fuel the inspiration you so desperately need.
The flowing water and distant laughter of children blend into a soothing symphony as you absentmindedly twirl your pencil between your fingers, thoughts drifting. Send me a muse, you plead to the Cauldron, yearning to feel that thrill again.That spark that ignites your passion of drawing. The very one that moves your hand effortlessly across the paper.
The sound of iron against pavement startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. You blink your eyes back into focus and instinctively, they land on the source of the noise. The table diagonal from you, that had been vacant for the past hour, now has an occupant. An occupant who is blocking your view of the Sidra River, the very one that is half drawn across your sketchbook.
But you can’t bring yourself to complain.
Not when there is a man of striking beauty seated there. 
His mere presence commands your attention, his red hair catching the sunlight and gleaming like fire. You feel your breath catch in your throat as your eyes trace the elegant lines of his face. Brutal scars mar the left side of his face–from his brow all the way down to his jaw. 
Despite this, the male is devastatingly handsome. Ethereal. 
Too good to be true, you think, finding yourself captivated by his eyes. His right eye, whole and russet-colored, holds a depth that draws you in. But his left eye…His left eye is a mechanical marvel, golden and intricate, and gleaming with an otherworldly light.  
And suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to touch him. To reassure yourself that he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Gods, with a face and built body like his, he’d be heaven to touch…
A rush of excitement floods your veins and you feel a familiar thrill coursing through you. Your hands are turning the pages of your sketchbook until a blank page sits before you. And before you know it, you’re pouring your awe and fascination into each stroke of your pencil. Your eyes flicker up and down as you commit the details to mind, heart pounding every time with the fear of being caught. 
Though you're cautious about it, you’re too lost in his eyes to catch the way the male’s lips curve slightly upwards.
**
Lucien takes the last sip of his coffee, admiring the sight before him. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in twilight hues and dancing across the Sidra River. Along the riverwalk, Fae stroll leisurely. Couples walk hand in hand, children skipping along the cobblestone path, pausing to catch the fireflies that are now visible in the dimming light.
Velaris was proving to be more beautiful with each passing day—a sight he’d never expected from a place like the Night Court. All his life, he had only come to know the Court of Nightmares. A place that truly lived up to his name. And though there were children laughing and running freely, he couldn’t help but still be wary of the City of Starlight. It was still part of the Night Court, after all.
His eyes scan along the riverwalk, golden eye making a soft sound as it moves, in search of something. Or rather, someone. Just as a frown is about to settle on his face, he finds what he was searching for. The reason why he was at this cafe…despite the fact that the best espresso in town was at a little coffee shop in the Rainbow of Velaris.
You.
You are sitting at a bench, knees drawn up and a sketchbook nestled onto your lap. As the sun continues to make its descent, the street lamp near you croaks to life. It bathes you in its soft glow and he is able to appreciate the slight furrow of your brow, the slight way your lips purse in concentration. He wants to know what you're drawing.
Ever since he caught you staring at him at this very cafe, he had an inkling as to what may be hidden within those pages of your sketchbook. He had meant to approach you about it but you had been so into your sketch, he found the sight endearing and feared disrupting you. 
So he had left you to it and showed up to the cafe the next day at the same time in the hopes of seeing you again and he did. That time, your gazes had met and though it had been brief, it felt everlasting. He remembers the way your cheeks tinted with blush before you turned your head away, flustered at being caught. If only you had seen the way he had smiled softly to himself afterwards.
It’s been days since that incident. Though he didn’t find you in that same spot the day after, he came to the conclusion that this was your favorite area to frequent in Velaris. It slowly became his too, his eyes always finding you amongst the busy riverwalk. 
Lucien had never been the shy type–at least, not when it came to pursuing people he was interested in. He had just been waiting for the right time–for the right moment to talk to you. And as you closed your sketchbook with a light exhale, his heart fluttered as he realized what better time than now.
**
Calling it a night, you close your sketchbook with a soft sigh. The sun had been replaced by the moon and the street lamp’s light was too dim for your liking to continue you drawing. You feared messing up what you had meticulously spent hours on. As you rise from the bench and turn to make your way back home, you bump into a smaller frame than yours, the sketchbook in your hold falling from your grasp.
“Sorry, miss!” A lively voice chirps and when you look toward the source, the small child is already far away from you. Kids, you muse to yourself as you turn back around.
Your breath catches in your throat. Standing right in front of you is the male who has become your muse.
But he’s not looking at you.
No, he’s looking at the sketchbook on the ground. Your heart skips a beat, heat rising to your face. The sketchbook had opened to the pages you've been working on—the ones with multiple sketches of his eyes.
You’re frozen in horror, watching as he studies your work. None of you say anything for a moment. It’s when his gaze lifts to yours that you spring into action. “Oh,” you gasp, beginning to bend your knees to gather your belongings. You're absolutely mortified, praying to the Cauldron he can’t hear how fast your heart is racing.
“I’m so sorry.”
Before your hand can reach for your sketchbook, another hand beats you to it.
“Don’t be,” he says, his voice deep and enchanting, causing your hand to freeze in midair. There seems to be a magnetic pull in his words, a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. Is there anything about this male that is not attractive?
“I’ve never seen the beauty of my eyes until now.”
The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them. “You’re joking, right?”
He’s knelt before you, his hand hovering over your book. But instead of picking it up for you, he grasps for your hand instead. It’s warm and calloused yet feels so good against yours. Like heaven. His eyes finally meet yours, holding you captive. He slowly brings your hand to his lips, and you don’t think you’re breathing as he presses his lips against your skin.
“No,” he grins as he rises to his full height, using his free hand to grab your sketchbook before bringing you with him. “I’m Lucien.”
It takes you a moment to realize he is waiting for you to speak, his presence overwhelming but exhilarating.
“I’m—” you clear your throat to steady your voice. “I’m y/n.”
“y/n,” Lucien repeats with a smile, finally handing you over your sketchbook.
You take it, immediately clutching the book tightly to your chest and avert your gaze, casting it downwards. “I promise I’m not a creep. I was drawing the Sidra–well, attempting to, anyway. But then you came along, blocking my view and something came over me. You see, I’ve been struggling with artist block and your eyes–your eyes are so pretty”--and under your breath, you mutter–” All of you is, if I’m going to be honest…”–Lucien’s smile widens at that–”and I finally felt inspired–oh gods, I’m rambling. I should just shut my mouth.”
Lucien’s russet eye twinkles with amusement. “I inspired you?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly and bashfully.
“Then perhaps,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I should let you inspire me as well.”
Slowly, you lift your head back up, meeting his eyes once more. A wave of relief surges through you as you find nothing but sincerity and shared interest in his gentle gaze. You find yourself mirroring his smile, and something warm blossoms in Lucien’s chest—the start of something beautiful.
And he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Night Court isn’t so bad after all.
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a/n: okay, that's enough Lucien for now. Can't keep letting him distract me because I need to focus back on the other Vanserra *cough* Eris *cough*
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen
178 notes · View notes
minkiverse · 3 days
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PARK SEONGHWA FIC RECS
Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho
HWA TIME!! A man who is so earth shatteringly gorgeous of course gets written incredibly by atiny 😩 like this man is just art!! As always, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!
Dividers by @iluvpooks
DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!
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Key:
✨ - My Favs
🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)
⛈️ - Angst
💗 - Fluff
🍑 - Humor
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SERIES
New Horizons - @fivestar-outlaw 🔥⛈️💗 Idol AU
this is just the cutest series!! like meeting him through animal crossing is the most adorable meet cute i want to cry 😭😭 we all deserve a lil bit of delusion as a treat asfgdssfgdf
The Way to His Heart - @edenesth ⛈️💗Joseon Period ✧ Arranged Marriage AU
im a big BIG fan of historical au's and i just loved reading hwa falling for the mc and then doing everything he can to destroy the people that hurt her 😩😩 that kind of devotion is just soooooooo attractive😍😍 it kinda reminds me of the anime My Happy Marriage (which i did not finish OTL) but if you enjoyed that i think you will love this~~
Wallflower pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️💗 Office AU
seonghwa is mc's nerdy coworker but boy can he fuck 😩😩😩 the smut in this is 🤌🤌 but honestly this fic is so much more than that and how the mc changes and grows as a person because of hwa's influence is so enjoyable to read i just love them 🥹🥹
Sans - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 SMAU ✧ Childhood Friends AU
this author really knows how to break my heart 😭😭😭 definitely be aware of trigger warnings for some chapters!!! but this fic was also so wholesome?? like i just love the mc and how they grow from the events of the story 🥹🥹 SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO SAN AND WOO!!!!
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ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES/ETC
sycophant - @ncteez ✨🔥 Business AU
there will always be boss x employee fics BUT this take on it 🤌🤌🤌 hwa is just so attractively straight forward and him teaching the mc on how to dom him is truly just so fucking hot i could scream 😩😩
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
The Thing About Pretty Boys - @wonusite ✨🔥 Friends to Lovers AU
never say seonghwa can't fuck.... or maybe do bcs this man goes fucking feral 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i had like a full body physical reaction to how hwa is written in this fic 😩😩 like this is so filthy in the hottest way possible
Dune - @hongism 🔥 Outlaw AU ✧ Biker AU
Untitled - @orgverse 🔥 Sci-fi AU
Warning Signs EP. 1: The Showman - @mphountitled 🔥Rebellion AU
Everyday at the Bus Stop - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥💗
persistent desire - @bro-atz 🔥 College AU
Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Red Dress - @wooyoungiewritings ✨🔥⛈️💗 Enemies to Lovers AU
i love a holiday/winter themed fic ok sue me 🫵🫵 its just COZY and this hwa drives me up the wall 😩😩 he's such a charming lil shit and the banter is soooooo good 🫠🫠 i looooooooove this couple!!!!!!!
Scattered bunny!seonghwa thoughts - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
Morning sex with Seonghwa - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥
realistic sex with seonghwa - @byuntrash101 🔥
VIP Access - @hwashotcheeto 🔥 Idol AU
multiple??? - @lomlhwa 🔥 Hybrid AU
I Can See You - @daemour 🔥⛈️💗 Single Father!Hwa
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU
heavy and sticky - @k-hotchoisan 🔥
Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥
belong to me - @ateezscupid 🔥⛈️ Idol AU
Untiled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Dragon!Teez ✧ Sugar Mommy AU
Untitled - @bombuni 💗
Honest (But Happy) Accident - @ad0rechuu 💗College AU
amazing grace - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥⛈️💗 Church Boy!Hwa
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Bad Boy!Hwa
paradigm - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥 Bartender AU
switch!hwa nuff said 🤤🤤🤤 no but how this author does banter is just so good like idk even know how explain it because it feels so natural and charming and the smut is so fucking good like im in love with hwa and the mc ?????
The Heart's Filthy Lesson - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️ Toxic BFF!Hwa
Untitled - @hee0soo 🔥
Damnation of a Saint - @byuntrash101 🔥 7 Deadly Sins AU
My Little Empress - @holybibly 🔥 Historical AU ✧ Arranged Marriage AU
the lamb and the wolf - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗 Hades!Hwa
Make Me Water - @bangtanintotheroom 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU
Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Cyberpunk AU
mirror mirror on the wall, who's the filthiest of them all - @almightyddeonghwa 🔥 Idol AU
boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑
273 notes · View notes
crvptidgf · 15 hours
Text
Through My Fingertips
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
➸ summary: how mattheo grapples with the fact that he can’t admit his true feelings towards you
➸ warnings/notes: angst, mentions of sexual activity but nothing explicit, mattheo being emotionally unavailable, fwb!reader
A/N: based on this post from @leona-hawthorne. also listening to CHIHIRO by billie eilish while thinking about this… it hurts good.
word count: 2.9k (it’s a long one)
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IF THERE WAS one thing universally known, is that Mattheo Riddle didn’t do serious relationships. He would sleep around, maybe take a girl out on a date every once in a while just to take her back to his dorm, but that’s as far as his emotional availability went. It was a result of the harsh and arduous years living with his father.
Until you came along. You managed to break down his walls with every brush of your fingertips and every soft kiss that you’d bless him with. He could never let you go, but was simultaneously scared to fully let you in.
So now, you were in a weird in-between place of casually sleeping together, while also cuddling and having sleepovers every other night.
Theo can’t remember the last time Mattheo kept one of his hook ups around for so long. At most, the women would last a week or two before it got too real for him, and he would break it off. In all the years that they’ve been friends, Mattheo has never really even showed romantic interest. Commitment wasn’t necessarily a virtue that he had.
When you stepped out of the boy’s dorm for the fourth week in a row, Theo and Blaise’s eyebrows shot up; but they regained their composure as they greeted you, watching as you happily shuffled away.
“This is new,” commented Theo when Mattheo stepped out of his room, his pants hung low and his arms shoving through the holes in his t-shirt.
“Is it? I bring girls around all the time.”
Mattheo knew what Theo meant. He didn’t want to be bombarded with questions that he didn’t have the answers to. The past few weeks, all he’s been able to think about is you.
You, with your sweet laughter and infectious smile. You, with that fresh rose perfume that you always seemed to have on hand, spraying it on your collarbones before jogging away to your class. There was nothing more that he wanted to think about - and the fact that his mind hasn’t been able to forget about you scared him shitless. He should be the cold, heartless player that everybody believes he is. Yet something about the way you looked at him made Mattheo want to forget all about his reputation and his fears. If only he was a little stronger, a little less afraid to become the man you deserved.
“You do,” said Blaise, breaking the silence. “Just haven’t seen you so… committed to one, like, ever.”
Mattheo’s head whipped up at the word ‘committed’. The son of the Dark Lord, willingly committing to someone? Impossible.
“Please,” he scoffed, “the only thing I’m committed to is getting her into my bed.”
It wasn’t really wrong. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you made your arrangement with him. There was strictly to be no feelings involved, it was a purely sexual relationship. However, this fact did not make it any less painful to hear the words that tumbled out of Riddle’s mouth any easier. If only you kept walking instead of sticking around behind the wall to tie your shoes.
“I don’t know, man. You-“
Mattheo held his hand up, his nostrils flaring. “Look, if you’re gonna keep hounding me with this bullshit, I’d rather leave now.”
He waited for a moment to see if anyone would say anything else, and when they didn’t, he sat down on the couch. The conversation switched faster than you could stand up from your kneeling position on the ground.
‘Bullshit’ is what he said when he referred to your friends with benefits situation. Was that really all he thought of you? Sure you were aware that he didn’t want feelings involved, but you wished he was at least a little more respectful when he spoke about you. Especially behind your back. It hurt knowing that his friends thought nothing more of you than some ‘bullshit side piece’ of Mattheo’s.
The following day you managed to avoid him at all costs. When you’d see him making his way towards you, your head would turn to the opposite direction, finding a classmate or friend to occupy your time until he walked away.
You only had yourself to blame. You should’ve known that him letting you stay over was only because you insisted. Maybe you were pushing him too hard - and perhaps all the gentle kisses you two shared while he slowly rutted into you was a one time thing. Mattheo Riddle didn’t do relationships. You were stupid to think you could change him.
The negligence didn’t go unnoticed by him. It was weird not having you next to him during class, whispering to you to meet him in the broom closet for your next period. It was even weirder you not eating lunch with him in the Great Hall.
Something must have happened in between yesterday and this morning, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything specific.
Mattheo’s mind only wandered. At some point you would get sick of the ‘no feelings’ agreement that you had made, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. In another universe you would already be his, hands clasped together as he walked you to class. Instead he was subjected to the shit-storm of worries that clouded his brain.
Out of anyone he’s ever been friends with, you were the only one who could get him to smile when he felt like the world was against him. He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but you really were melting the ice around his heart, and he was subconsciously sabotaging himself every step of the way.
He didn’t deserve to be happy. Why should he, when he’s caused so much pain?
The day dragged on without a word from you, and Mattheo was growing antsy. His former angry demeanor was back. Every word from Draco’s mouth set him off, and he snapped at Theo more times than he can count on both hands.
“What happened? Your girlfriend break up with you or something?” muttered Theo at dinner. This only pissed Mattheo off even more.
“She’s not my fucking girlfriend and she never will be.”
He couldn’t help it. The only way to protect himself from embarrassment and rejection was by becoming a defensive shell of a human. He didn’t like yelling at his friend, but he felt pushed to the limit. It didn’t help that his thoughts were a constant jumbled mess, the confusion of what he felt for you and the fear of abandonment melting into a cocoon of pure anxiety.
He wanted to shout some more, tell Theo how wrong he was, but that was when he smelled it. The familiar rosy scent of your perfume and shampoo.
Your footsteps halted at the venom in Mattheo’s voice. Never in the three weeks that you’ve been seeing him have you heard him speak with such disgust. It was almost like he was spitting out the words, trying to get rid of them as fast as he could - he would never see you as anything other than a fuck buddy. This, what you were to him now, was all you will ever be.
What made it all the more embarrassing was that half the dinner hall heard him. Being one of the most popular guys at your college, everybody already knew you two were hooking up, which meant they also knew that he was speaking about you in that moment.
Did he really hate you so much that he had to let the whole student body know?
Mattheo just have seen the horrified looks on his friends faces, because he turned around in the blink of an eye, his gaze landing on you automatically. You were gorgeous. The books you held were covered by your soft hands, the rings that adorned them remind him of how he held your hand while his head was in between your legs, the cold metal pressing into his palm. Your hair that was pushed back by a hairband bringing him back to last night when it was splayed around you like a halo, framing your face like the angel you were. He was almost happy to see you, if it wasn’t for the way your lower lip trembled before you turned away and sped out of the hall.
In his mind, he was running after you and coming up with the best apology he could muster. In reality, though, his feet were glued to the ground, his mouth hung open in shock as he mentally reprimanded himself for letting his fears get the best of him. He was an idiot, really.
If he didn’t fix this soon, he would lose the only thing that made him happy. If he just gave himself over to you, and was honest about his growing feelings for you, maybe you could forgive him.
Instead he let his friends berate him at the table. He let the judgmental eyes of his peers burn into his skill. After all, it was what he deserved for fucking everything up; for losing the one good thing he had left in his miserable life.
That night you spent all your time in your dorm room, wishing that he would gain the courage to come find you.
He never did.
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YOUR PHONE WAS bombarded by texts the next morning. Thankfully it was a weekend, so you could spend all day in your room uninterrupted if you so wished.
Switching your phone to silent mode, you dropped your head onto your pillow. Seeing Mattheo’s name pop up in your notifications only made your morning worse. He had some nerve to text you. He should be groveling and pleading for forgiveness, not shying away behind a screen like a coward.
Little did you know, Mattheo was in a similar position as you. His hand was gripping the mobile device to his chest, head pressing into the plush mattress below him.
It was in quiet moments like these that he felt the most vulnerable. When the silence of the room enveloped him, and his ears rang from the lack of sound, his mind drifted to images of you. A distinct memory of his was the first time he realized he couldn’t kick you to the curb like he had initially hoped - his heart clenched at the mere thought of seeing your adorable features shift into a somber, sad one. He hated the thought of seeing you teary eyed and upset, but in his attempt at protecting both his and your hearts, he only ended up saving his own ass and hurting you in the process.
Eyes staring at the ceiling, he sighed, hand rubbing down his face. He wasn’t surprised that you thought he didn’t care about you, but you didn’t know that he traced the words ‘I love you’ on your skin when you slept in his arms, your bare chest pressing against his own beating heart. He wished he could tell you with his mouth instead of only his fingertips.
Mattheo groaned, slapping a pillow over his face in an attempt to stop his racing thoughts.
If he could take back everything he said, he would. You meant more to him than he could understand, you were everything to him. During the many times you’ve spent in his dorm, your face pressed into his shoulder as you snored, he wished be could just open up and tell you what he truly felt for you. But the thought itself was daunting - he was barely able to admit it to himself that he was in love with you.
He shouldn’t have let this go on for as long as it did, it was inevitable that your intoxicating nature would pull him in and make him question everything. You were everything he’s ever wanted, how could he not love you?
Cringing at himself for the nth time that morning, he decided that enough was enough. He either needed to man up and confess or finally let you go to find your peace.
A knock sounded on your door twenty minutes later. You didn’t have to check to know who it was, but you figured that if he came, it was better that it was now rather than never. You opened the wooden door and your face was met with a disheveled looking Mattheo. Any other day you’d let him in in an instant, ready to ask him about his day before being pressed into the mattress, his fingers massaging that one spot that you could never seem to reach yourself.
“What do you want?” you asked, your tone making Mattheo flinch in embarrassment and shame. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid - but look at him now.
“I wanted - I needed to explain myself.”
You shook your head. You didn’t need his pity, nor his half-assed apologies. If that was truly how he felt, then so be it. You could eventually learn to live with it. “You made yourself pretty clear. Quite publicly, I might add.”
Mattheo gently forced himself inside, his broad stature a contrast to how small you felt in the moment. He closed the door behind him and you only stepped back, trying to create as much space as possible between you and him. If he got any closer you knew you would give in and let him take you into his arms, and most likely to your bed.
Why did you let yourself fall for his lies when everybody warned you against it?
“Please just hear me out,” he said, his hands clasping together in a silent plea. There was no doubt he wasn’t going to leave until he said what he needed to, so you gestured with your hand for him to continue.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I wasn’t thinking, I-“ he stopped to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t really sure where he was going with this, but he knew that he had to make up his mind now whether he was gonna take a step forward, or several steps back.
“Mattheo, it’s okay.”
Stopping in his tracks, he gave you a puzzled look. It’s okay? Surely he heard that wrong. The look in your eyes when you heard what came out of his mouth was something he wasn’t going to forget any time soon.
“Is it…?” Mattheo said, confused.
You took a step forward. One last time. You would let yourself be wrapped up in his arms, his lips touching all the right places just one last time. There was a big chance that this wasn’t going anywhere, and if the situationship was going to end, you wanted it to end on a good note.
“The only thing you’re committed to is getting me into bed,” you quoted, your voice lowering a few octaves as you reached to push some hair from his eyes. Mattheo’s breath hitched, and all the facts were linking together. He was a bigger idiot than he initially thought.
He wanted to say so much, to tell you that he didn’t mean anything he said, but his words got stuck in his throat at your gentle touch. You were always able to turn him into a puddle of mush with the smallest of movements.
“So take me to bed. I don’t need you to be someone you’re not - you don’t want me, and I don’t want you if you’re only just tolerating me. Maybe one day you can be the man I wish you could be, but today isn’t that day.”
All at once, he felt his world crashing down. Pretty much all of his fears came true - he was going to lose you. Not only that, but he was going to lose because of something that he did, something that he couldn’t change. He was right. Mattheo wasn’t the man you needed, and your clarification only solidified his deepest, darkest abandonment issues.
“Okay,” was all he could get out.
That morning seemed never-ending. Mattheo laid between your thighs for what felt like hours, pouring all of his love for you in the way he moved his lips against you, in the way he left reminders of himself in the shape of purple bruises. Everything he so badly wanted to say was disguised by the swirls of his tongue and slow thrusts of his hips. He planted a million sweet kisses to your cheeks and neck, and if you weren’t so in your own head, you probably would have seen the pained look in his eyes as you fell asleep next to him. For one last time.
Mattheo left shortly after, picking up any remnants of him from your room, and when you woke up, it was almost as if he was never there.
A part of you was disappointed that he didn’t stay. Another part was glad - because it meant that you were right in telling him what you did. You were never enough to make him change his ways, and him leaving before you awoke made the pain easier to handle.
Unbeknownst to you, there was a crumpled piece of paper in Mattheo’s hands as he trudged back to his dorm room. A piece of paper that would never see the light of day.
With his head in his hands, and your head on your tear-stained pillow, you both had an uneasy sleep later that night.
One more time, Mattheo let himself get carried away with flimsy feelings of love and affection. And if he had it his way, this would hopefully be the last, too.
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©𝐜𝐫𝐯𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐟
173 notes · View notes
7ndipity · 2 days
Text
Slapping/Grabbing Their Ass
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: How the members would react to their S/o slapping or grabbing their booty(i.e. mid hug)
Warnings: crack, lil suggestive,
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This legit made me laugh to write, so I hope you like it!
Masterlist
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Jin: Soo offended(not really), like “How dare you strike the worldwide handsome booty?!” Fr tho, he’d probably be into you grabbing it tho while hugging him, unless you’re around other people or smth.
Yoongi: If you just slap it, he’s gonna start complaining. “Yah! Are you trying to make it hurt for me to sit down?!” If you just grab it while you’re hugging him or smth, he’ll just tease you, claiming you’re trying to start something 👀
Hobi: Very different reactions depending on the situation. If you smack it, he’s gonna start yelling in pain like the dramatic mf he is. If you just grab it while you’re hugging or whatever, he’s just gonna break into giggles.
Namjoon: He’s kinda an ass man, so I could honestly see him being cool with it. Not necessarily the spanking tho, that’s his job. If you do that, he’s gonna either laugh and try to put you in your place(watch your 🍑, just sayin’)
Jimin: He’s spent years living with Jungkook and Tae, so he’s used to it(maknae line’s notorious for being the butt hunters of the group, lol). It might surprise him the first few times, but otherwise he's pretty chill about it.
Taehyung: Loves it ngl, he’ll take any sort of attention from you that he can get. But just beware, whatever you do to him, he’s gonna give right back to you. You spank him, he spanks you, he’s all about equality in your relationship, lol
Jungkook: Honestly? I don’t think he’d really react. He’s constantly smacking everyone else's ass, I think he’d just take it as you accepting one of his more specific love languages and return the gesture.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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londonfog-chan · 3 days
Text
I Will Not Keep My Mouth Shut About this High School Romance Between Eddie Munson x Reader (Headcanons)
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Why lord? Why are we not talking about this?
I’ve dated metalhead guys in the past, and believe in me when I say these fuckers move fast.
Eddie is no exception to this rule. He loves hard and quickly, especially if you’re into the same things he’s into as well.
I’m talking balls to the wall insanity like: the day won’t even be over and he’ll have already asked you out, kissed you, offered you weed, and secretly be planning the names of the four kids he wants with you.
Mans is delulu as fuck for you.
As much as he has his passions there’s just something about the fact that you actually gave the town freak unconditional love that makes him desperate. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club, he’d pick you over them any day if it meant he got to keep you.
Guarantee, you’ll already have gone all the way before the weekend is up of that first week of the relationship.
Cherry boy cherry boy cherry boy.
But he knows what he’s doing. It will have been awkward but the best part is now “Rainbow in the Dark” makes you feel all hot under the collar and “Shame on the Night” makes you laugh and reminds you of the awkward panic cleaning up after.
The epitome of live fast die young. He will throw his life away if you ask him to, so make sure you use your powers wisely.
At some point Eddie will ask you to run away with him. He doesn’t give a shit where, so long as it’s with you.
Shared interests are probably how the two of you met in the first place, especially if you’re like me and unable to beat the weird kid allegations. You drifted towards his club because you for whatever reason were an outcast too.
Eddie would probably crush on those who are conventionally pretty, popular, the epitome of the 80’s beauty standards. That’s just human nature. But with you… it’s so much more different.
You’re like his nerdy fantasies come to life, like the princesses he writes about in his campaigns that are a mix of dark, dangerous, able to hold their own and fight for him and with him. Think of if you will a sexy bombshell rotoscoped into those old metal music videos. Facing the world wearing only red lipstick and a cocksure expression.
He would get along so well with someone who wasn’t afraid to let their wild side show, or to express it. But at the same time if you’re more shy and reserved, he is determined to help you come out of that shell and be the best possible version of yourself.
It’s impossible not to match his excitable energy, it’s just so goddamn contagious. It might scare you how far you’re willing to go for Eddie and how quickly you might find yourself changing. Because believe me, you will change, and it will be for the better.
Eddie will always be your number one hype man.
He will literally be so excited about everything you do because it’s you! The person he loves more than anyone in this whole entire world.
Eddie will literally put up with so much for you. Even if you guys fight he will struggle to maintain his composure because he does not want to fuck this beautiful thing up.
Drives himself up the wall with anxiety about it too. But that’s the thing about Eddie’s dynamic with you: is that he will do what it takes to keep his fucking cool around you.
Your fights are infrequent but can get explosive if there are unsaid insecurities. So to avoid this: keep honest with him. About everything. Don’t lie to him, because as fast as he fell for you, lying is the quickest way to break his trust and send him packing.
One of his flaws in the relationship is that his insecurity that this will all go away will make him all that more prepared to leave if you have a massive blow up fight.
Like he’s already preplanned his exit strategy and everything.
But the longer you’re together, the more comfortable he gets and eventually he settles down from jumping the gun into taking things one day at a time.
He’s a fucking keeper. And all I’m gonna say is you better start training with swinging a blunt weapon because once you have him, you’re going to be right there in the Upside Down fucking up some monsters keeping them away from your man.
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shysuccubusstuff · 1 day
Text
feral! wuthering waves males pt. 1
Characters: Jiyan + Scar
Context: playing them a silly little prank with some aphrodisiacs wasn't your smartest moment...
Jiyan: foul language, overstimulation, oral receiving, established relationship (married), breeding kink, just a bit of degradation.
Scar: Overstimulation, oral giving, degradation, breath play (?,
Note: Just read the most ground breaking smut so I just had to-- I'm sorry if the smut is bad, I hurt my wrist a few days ago :( Credits for the dividers to anitalenia + cafekitsune.
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You had already prepared everything, the cake was already set at the table, little strawberries decorating it. It had been a few days since you had last seen Jiyan, so of course you thought that adding a little... spice would help both of you relax a little. Just a few drops of the aphrodisiac were supposed to be added to the strawberries, but you had decided to add just a tiny bit more, enough to create some kind of reaction from him, you supposed.
A few minutes passed until Jiyan finally opened the door, his hair down, making him look even more handsome. As soon as he saw you his lips curved into a smile, looking as a happy puppy running to your arms. He swiftly lifted you, making you twirl a little until he let you down, his lips giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.
"Dear, you don't know how much I've missed you, the work as been exhausting because of the lack of employees." While he kept talking about his work, you you broke a piece of the cake, serving it to him while you took a little bite from the frosting. His eyes shined, happy from getting to eat his favourite cake just as he arrived home. His plate was cleared soon, not leaving even a single crumb. Your hands were sweating a little, was the dose too little for him?
Your question was answered just a few minutes ago, his eyes were flaring, his breath heavy and hot, making you feel just a bit intimidated. Jiyan quickly raised from his seat, taking one of the strawberries and shoving it down your mouth.
"Dear, you really thought I would be unable to tell? God, the cake was reeking with the smell of the aphrodisiac, were you that desperate for me? Couldn't handle a few days without my cock shoved deep into your sweet cunt?" His words were foul, somewhat making your cunt a bit too wet for the situation given. Without letting you reply, Jiyan's hands were lifting you, walking to your bedroom as fast as possible and letting you lay there. His hands caressed your skin, your sweet scent filling the room and mixing with the scent of the herbs he always carried. "Sweet girl, trying to play with a much more experienced man..." While he taunted you with his words, his hands were already over your body, losing no time on undressing you and throwing your clothes to the floor. He had already taken off his own clothes, finally being able to see his chiseled muscles, making your mouth drool as you saw his cock, standing proud, tip slightly reddened. He got on his knees, moving you to the end of the bed, your pretty pussy being presented to him, while his fingers were already toying with it, playing with your sensitive clit with his rough fingertips while entering you with his other hand. Even despite how much shame you felt, you were only able to pull from his hair as a sorry attempt of getting him just a bit far from you. Of course, despite your efforts, his mouth got even closer, using his tongue to prepare your little slit, while he kept playing with your clit, not stopping even after making you cum all over his mouth, your hands almost giving out as he didn't even budge a bit.
It took several minutes (and at least three orgasms) for him to leave your sorry cunt, clit all reddened and puffy from the overstimulation. He got up, lifting you in between his arm and sitting you on his lap, slowly entering you, your nails digging on his back. "Too big... it won't fit..." Your sweet cunt squeezing him just right, Jiyan trying his best not to shove it in with a single trust. "It won't fit..." Jiyan smiled, his hands squeezing your waist as he kept inserting his dick in your pussy, your eyes starting to water as the stretch began to sting.
"Stay put, dear, I swear it won't feel as painful, just give it a few minutes." Jiyan caressed your hair while peppering your pretty face with his kisses, trying to distract you of how he was slowly inserting his whole length inside you. He stayed there, the tip of his dick being far too close to your cervix, making you whine each time he moved a bit and hit that place with his tip. Little by little, his hips started to move, letting you cling to him while your teeth pierced his shoulder, sometimes kissing your pretty lips in a nasty way, your saliva falling to your chin as his kiss left you a bit light-headed.
As time went on, his movements got rougher, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, lips parting as you were unable to stop moaning from the overstimulation. Jiyan's eyes were glistening, happy to see his pretty wife all dumb on his cock, unable to do anything but take it. "You're so pretty baby, all pretty over my dick, you're gonna be such a good mommy, I'm gonna be the best daddy... treat both of you so good, let me make you a mommy dear..." His hips started to move faster, his dick starting to twitch inside you, your mind being completely melted, only being able to nod to his pleas as his cock ramaged your insides, tears falling down your cheeks. You were able to kiss him, his cum filling your tummy while you digged your nails on his back, thanking him between blurbs for making you a mommy.
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Scar already knew just as he entered the room, your expression was a bit too calmed, while your body was as stiff as a board. You quickly raised from your seat, approaching him with a nervous expression as you tried to give him some "special recipe" you had found in the Internet. Despite that, he accepted gracefully, taking the little cookie with the shape of a heart, how could he deny you when your eyes were sparkling with anticipation? Your eyes were fixated on his expression, perhaps searching for any type of hint that the aphrodisiac was working, although you gave up soon after you realized that the recipe you had found was probably just a prank of some person with a lot of time. You were about to sit down when Scar's hands gripped your wrists, almost with a bit too much strength, causing you to quickly turn over" What the--?" Before you were able to say anything, his lips were already against yours, devouring you as if you were one of the best plates in the world, leaving you breathless as he separated for a moment.
"God, I didn't know you were so naughty, playing with aphrodisiacs and stuff... are you trying to make me fall in love even harder?" His expression showing just how much excited was he with this new way of "playing". "If I had known you were that feisty I would have done this way sooner." He chuckled, taking your face between his hands and giving you a sloppy kiss, while his leg got in between your thighs, grinding shamelessly against your clothed cunt, your head began spin a bit due to the stimulation.
"Get on your knees, I've got something for well-behaved girls." You did as you were told, your knees falling to the carpeted floor while he unzipped his pants, his cock springing out of his underwear. He took it with one hand, getting it closer to your soft lips and rubbing his tip against them, making your thighs rub in anticipation. "Someone seems eager to start, uh? Pretty little slut who gets wet just from sucking my cock." As he said that, he slowly introduced it into your mouth, the warm cavity making him lose his mind even more. The rhythm started to pace up, almost making you choke on it as he hit the back of your throat with his tip, he didn't even flinch when you started to feel as if you were choking all over his cock, it wasn't until tears were streaming down your cheeks that he finally let you go, a small string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth. Without giving you a moment to breath, he helped you get up, swiftly undressing you in the middle of the house hall, your whole naked body being displayed. Scar smiled, playing with your pretty tits while he made fun of your flushed cheeks: "You're as red as a cherry, but you weren't that bashful when you decided to play me a little prank uh? You're only shy when you don't think with your cunt?" Scar kept taunting you, making fun of how you moaned at the tiniest touch of his hands, his lips leaving wet kisses all through your neck and chest. Several minutes had passed until he decided to end the foreplay, your cunt extremely sensitive because of his constant mocking while his fingers were playing with your clit, the other hand playing with one of your nipples. He smiled, taking his cock with one of his hands and slowly inserting it, his other hand keeping your face still so you could see yourself in the mirror. "Damn, can you see that? You're squeezing me like crazy, did you want my cock that fucking bad? Look how you're taking me in, sure you don't want to become mine? I'll keep you full all days, baby." He kept whispering those nasty taunts while his hips slammed against your ass, his tip hitting your cervix and making you lose the strength on your legs. As soon as he noticed that, he took each of your legs in his arms, lifting you with ease and allowing you to see your cunt being filled with his cock.
"This position is much better , uh? I can see all the good stuff from here, you look so pretty being fucked dumb on my cock." He smiled, moving your body up and down as if you were some fleshlight, your saliva falling down your chin as you were unable to shallow it. It took him just a few more thrusts against your sorry cunt until your brain was completely melted, your mouth blabbering some sorry excuses like "I'm sowwy! Please don't be so rough! My pussy is breaking!" Despite your pleas, Scar's trusts only increased, not slowing down even if you had already cummed all over his cock, faded rings forming all over his shaft.
When he suddenly stopped, you were almost imagining your sweet bed, but your fantasies were completely crushed the moment you noticed how he was simply changing positions, his expression looking as wicked as always, a dark glistening on his eyes as he saw your sorry face with tears running down your face and your drool falling from your chin. "You look the cutest when you're pathetic, you know?"
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