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MDNI
"Didn't I tell you to keep those filthy little fingers out of your cunt 'til I came home?"
His hand was gripping your jaw so roughly that it made it hard to speak, but you nodded, looking up into John's eyes with lurid need.
"Yeah?" He spat into your open mouth as he held it in his grip, strings of his saliva coating your nose and lips, dripping and begging to be licked off, "So, why did I find my pretty fuckin' wife with her legs spread open, knuckle deep in this juicy cunt, hm?"
You tried to answer, but he was too quick. He shoved two wide fingers into your mouth, smearing his spit around on your tongue, purposefully pressing your head back so you'd need to swallow against them in order to breathe.
His cock was fighting for release behind his zipper, and you could see its fat outline in the soft fabric, aching to be used against you. Your eyes were fixated on it, hungry for it, and your pussy throbbed for him.
"I'm beginnin' to suspect that you like being a dirty fuckin' slag. Innit that right?"
"Yeah," you said around his hand.
"Yeah? My fuckin' slag, huh? Mine."
"Yeah," you could barely form the word around his huge knuckles, but he seemed to like that.
John Price took his hand away from you and stepped behind you as you sat, kneeling naked on the ground.
"Put those fingers back in your cunt, missus."
You obeyed, suddenly submissive in contrast to your previous, bratty behavior.
You knew what was coming.
You heard the jangle of his belt buckle. You listened as the leather slithered out of each loop, snapping and hissing as it was freed. Then, you felt the cold strap wrap itself around your throat and everything inside of you relaxed. All of your tension and your fervor was cooled by your makeshift collar and you sighed in relief.
He pulled it tight around you, looping a finger between your neck and the strap for safety, willing to get dangerous but only on his terms.
"That's it. You like this, hm? You like it when you're at my goddamn mercy. Show me how wet you are. Now."
He jerked the strap, pulling your body against the belt threateningly.
You shoved your fingers even deeper, collecting your come on your hand and pulling it out of yourself, holding it in the air to show him what he wanted to see.
You couldn't see his expression since he was behind you, but you felt his mouth. He bent over, pulling the belt tighter, and began to suckle from your fingertips, licking between them to eat your clear stickiness off of your skin.
"Turn around," he barked.
You didn't actually have to do anything. He spun you on his own, holding the end of the belt nice and high to keep you under control. Then, with his free hand, he unbuttoned his pants, letting his drooling dick loll out of the opening. It was pink and swollen, engorged from his pleasure and veiny with blue, dark blood.
You leaned forward to lick him, but he caught you, yanking you back like a bad dog.
"What do we say when we want something, pet?"
John looked down at you with a sinister satisfaction, his smile full of decadent lust and longing.
You met his eyes and gave him your best helpless fawn impression,
"Please..."
He tightened the belt until it bit into your skin, pinching you. Then, he was crushing your face into his pants, shoving your nose into his pubic hair like a naughty puppy.
"What was that?"
"Please! Please... I want to suck your cock. Please, please, please."
Now, you were wriggling and crying in earnest, no longer just playing the part of his helpless victim, but fully submitting to him, eager to be used.
The belt loosened, and a twisted part of you already missed the pain of its steel against your neck.
"Good girl. See? I knew you had it in you," he laughed softly, tapping your cheek with his rigid muscle, rubbing his cock across your face irreverently.
"Hope you're hungry, missus."
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horeformilfs · 3 days
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Sorry to bug ya but I was wondering if you’d mind a Alcina x ex umbrella experiment s/o
Like there super snuggly because “this touch doesn’t hurt what!!”
If you want to add some Demi fam in there I am not opposed because it’s cute
Only if you wanna
A Family's Embrace
Dimitrescu Family x Gender Neutral Reader
TW: Panic Attack, PTSD, Nightmares
------------------------------------------------
The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the wind against the ancient walls of Castle Dimitrescu. Y/N sat by the window, staring out at the endless stretch of darkness that cloaked the land. The room was warm, a stark contrast to the cold void outside, but inside, Y/N felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
Alcina had taken Y/N in under Mother Miranda's request. What was once a dark, twisted experiment of the Umbrella Corporation had somehow found refuge in the imposing, yet oddly comforting embrace of the castle and its inhabitants. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters had taken to Y/N almost immediately, showering them with a kind of warmth Y/N had never known. Yet, despite this new-found sanctuary, there was a barrier Y/N couldn't seem to break down.
"Y/N," Alcina's voice, smooth and deep, echoed from the doorway. Y/N turned slightly, catching sight of the towering figure of Alcina, her presence filling the room with a mix of elegance and power.
"Yes, Lady Dimitrescu?" Y/N replied, their voice barely above a whisper.
Alcina's crimson lips curved into a gentle smile as she crossed the room, her steps almost silent. "How many times must I tell you, dear? Call me Alcina." She reached out, intending to place a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder, but Y/N flinched away, pulling back instinctively.
A flicker of frustration crossed Alcina's face, but she quickly masked it. "Y/N, why do you shy away from me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" Her voice was still gentle, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of impatience.
Y/N looked down, their hands trembling slightly. "It's not that, Alcina. I just... I don't want to." Their voice broke at the end, and they clenched their fists, trying to steady themselves.
Alcina's patience was wearing thin. "Not want to? You barely speak to me, you avoid my touch, and yet you never explain why. Do you not trust me? After everything I've done for you?" Her voice rose with each word, the calm exterior cracking to reveal the storm beneath.
Y/N's heart pounded in their chest, the pressure of Alcina's words weighing heavily on them. "It's not about trust," they whispered, tears beginning to blur their vision. "I just can't..."
Alcina's temper snapped. "Can't what, Y/N? Can't let anyone in? Can't accept that someone might actually care for you?" She loomed over Y/N, her shadow engulfing them. "I have given you everything, and yet you give me nothing in return!"
The words hit Y/N like a physical blow. They stood, shaking, their mind a chaotic swirl of fear and confusion. "I'm sorry," they choked out, before turning and fleeing the room, leaving Alcina standing there, her anger giving way to a painful realization. 
Hours passed, and Alcina found herself pacing the halls of the castle, her mind replaying the confrontation over and over. She had always prided herself on her composure, but something about Y/N brought out a raw, unfiltered emotion she couldn't control.
Determined to make things right, she made her way to Y/N's room. She knocked softly, then opened the door, finding Y/N curled up on the bed, their face buried in their knees.
"Y/N," she said softly, the anger gone from her voice. "Please, talk to me."
Y/N looked into Alcina's eyes, seeing the sincerity and the pain reflected there. It was a moment of understanding, a fragile bridge being built between their two wounded souls. But the past held a tighter grip than Y/N had realized.
"I can't," Y/N whispered, the words heavy with regret. "I'm sorry, Alcina. I just can't let you in."
Alcina's hand froze, the warmth of her touch lingering in the air between them. A mixture of hurt and frustration flashed across her face. "Y/N, you don't have to do this alone. I want to help you, but you need to let me."
Y/N shook their head, tears streaming down their cheeks. "I'm broken, Alcina. And no matter how much you care, I can't change that. I don't know how to let anyone in without breaking even more."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and shattered hopes. Alcina slowly pulled back, standing tall once more, her expression unreadable. "I understand," she said quietly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her emotions. "I won't force you. But know this, Y/N: I am here for you, whenever you're ready."
Y/N nodded, unable to find the words to respond. They watched as Alcina left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone with their thoughts and fears.
The night seemed even darker now, the cold seeping back in as Y/N curled up on the bed once more. They knew Alcina's love was genuine, but the chains of the past were still too strong. And so, they lay there, wrapped in a cocoon of their own making, waiting for a dawn that felt so far away. 
Weeks passed in a tense stalemate. Every attempt Alcina made to offer comfort was met with the same response—Y/N flinching away, retreating further into their shell. Alcina tried to be patient, but the constant rejection gnawed at her. She wanted to break through, to help, but Y/N's walls remained impenetrable.
One night, a storm raged outside the castle, the wind howling and rain lashing against the stone walls. Y/N lay in bed, tossing and turning as memories of the experiments flooded their mind. In their nightmares, they were back in the sterile, cold labs of Umbrella, the pain and fear suffocating them.
A loud crack of thunder shook the castle, jolting Y/N awake. Heart pounding, drenched in sweat, they couldn't catch their breath. Panic seized them, and they bolted out of bed, the need to escape overwhelming their thoughts. Barefoot and in their nightclothes, they ran through the corridors, the storm's fury mirrored in their frantic pace.
They found themselves in the courtyard, the rain drenching them instantly, but they didn't stop. Lightning illuminated the path as they made their way to Alcina's wing of the castle. The wind howled, the storm's ferocity making the journey treacherous, but Y/N didn't care. They needed Alcina.
Reaching her door, they pounded frantically, their fists a blur against the heavy wood. "Alcina! Please!" they cried, their voice barely audible over the storm's roar.
The door swung open, and Alcina stood there, her eyes wide with shock. "Y/N?" She pulled them inside, closing the door against the storm's rage. Y/N stood before her, drenched and trembling, their eyes wild with fear.
"What's wrong?" Alcina asked, her voice gentle but firm, trying to anchor Y/N in the present.
"I... I can't breathe," Y/N gasped, clutching at their chest. "The nightmares... I can't..." Their words trailed off into sobs, their body shaking uncontrollably.
Alcina's heart ached at the sight. She wanted nothing more than to hold Y/N, to offer the physical comfort she knew they needed. But she held back, respecting their boundaries. Instead, she knelt down to their level, her eyes meeting theirs.
"Y/N, look at me," she said softly. "You're safe here. Focus on my voice."
Y/N's eyes darted around the room, their breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Alcina spoke again, her voice steady and calm. "In and out, Y/N. Breathe with me. In... and out..."
Slowly, Y/N tried to match Alcina's rhythm. The world narrowed to the sound of her voice, a lifeline in the storm of their mind. "That's it. You're doing great," Alcina encouraged, her eyes never leaving theirs.
Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity, but gradually, Y/N's breathing steadied. Their sobs subsided, leaving them exhausted and still shivering from the rain and the aftermath of their panic attack.
Alcina rose gracefully, her movements slow and deliberate. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes," she suggested. "I have something dry you can wear."
Y/N nodded weakly, too drained to argue. Alcina retrieved a robe from her wardrobe and handed it to them. She turned her back, giving Y/N privacy to change. Once they were in dry clothes, Alcina led them to a chair by the fireplace, where the warmth began to seep back into their bones.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Alcina asked, sitting across from them, maintaining a respectful distance.
Y/N shook their head, their eyes downcast. "It was the same as always. The labs, the experiments... I couldn't escape."
Alcina's expression softened. "I'm sorry you have to go through this, Draga. I wish I could take away your pain."
"I know," Y/N whispered, their voice barely audible. "I'm sorry I keep pushing you away. It's not that I don't trust you. I just... I don't know how to accept help."
Alcina nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Healing takes time. And it's okay to take things at your own pace. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and they looked at Alcina, seeing the unwavering support and care in her gaze. "Thank you," they said, their voice breaking. "I don't deserve your kindness."
Alcina shook her head gently. "Everyone deserves kindness, Draga Mae . Especially you."
For a moment, the room was silent, the storm outside a distant roar. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a small measure of peace for the first time in what felt like forever. They still had a long way to go, but with Alcina by their side, maybe, just maybe, they could start to believe in the possibility of healing.
As the fire crackled and the storm raged on, Y/N felt a fragile hope begin to take root, nurtured by the warmth of Alcina's unwavering support. It wasn't a solution, but it was a step. And in that moment, it was enough. 
As the night slowly passed, Alcina stayed awake with Y/N, the storm outside gradually subsiding. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Alcina kept a watchful eye on Y/N, who sat wrapped in a blanket, still trembling slightly from the ordeal.
After around two hours, Y/N, drained and needing sleep, gently curled into Alcina's side. Alcina hesitated for a moment, then softly rested her hand on Y/N's back. Y/N flinched but didn't pull away, a small but significant step.
"Draga," Alcina murmured, her voice gentle, "would it be alright if I held you?"
Y/N hesitated, their mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. The fear and trauma were still there, but so was Alcina's unwavering patience and care. Finally, they nodded, their voice barely a whisper. "Yes."
With utmost care, Alcina took Y/N and pulled them into her lap, wrapping her arms around them securely. Her touch was firm but gentle, a protective embrace that sought to shield rather than confine. It took a while for Y/N to relax, their body stiff and tense. Alcina remained still, her warmth a steady presence against Y/N's fears.
Gradually, Y/N's breathing slowed, and the tension began to melt away. They snuggled closer into Alcina's embrace, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "It's actually not bad," Y/N mumbled, their voice muffled against Alcina's chest.
Alcina smiled softly, her heart swelling with a mix of relief and tenderness. "I'm glad," she whispered, her hand gently stroking Y/N's hair. "Rest now, sweetheart. You're safe."
As Y/N and Alcina settled into their embrace, the tranquility of the moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Alcina glanced towards it, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, before rising to answer.
"Come in," she called out, her voice carrying a warmth that invited entry.
The door creaked open, revealing Daniela, Cassandra, and Bela standing in the doorway, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.
"We wanted to stay with you tonight, Mother," Daniela spoke up, her voice surprisingly gentle compared to her usual playful tone.
Y/N's heart sank at the sight of the three daughters, realizing they were intruding on what was meant to be a private moment. They began to untangle themselves from Alcina's embrace, intending to make a quick exit, but Bela's voice stopped them in their tracks.
"Where do you think you're going, little one?" Bela asked, her tone softer than usual, a hint of warmth in her gaze.
Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I... I was just going to leave, so you could have time together," they murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.
Cassandra stepped forward, her expression earnest. "No, we want you to stay," she said firmly, her eyes meeting Y/N's with unwavering sincerity.
Y/N's heart swelled at the unexpected invitation, but they couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. "It's really okay, I don't want to intrude," they protested, their gaze flickering between the three sisters.
Bela approached them, her movements graceful yet purposeful. "Nonsense, little one," she said gently, reaching out to take Y/N's hand. "You're not intruding. You're part of our family now."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes at the simple, yet profound words. They nodded, their voice catching in their throat. "Thank you," they whispered, overwhelmed by the acceptance they found in the Dimitrescu sisters.
With a soft smile, Bela led Y/N back towards the bed, where Daniela had already curled up in Alcina's lap. Cassandra and Bela made room for Y/N to join them, and soon they were surrounded by the comforting presence of the Dimitrescu family.
As they settled in, Y/N felt a sense of belonging wash over them, a feeling they hadn't experienced in a long time. Bela's arm draped around them, offering a sense of security they had longed for. When tears threatened to spill once more, Bela gently brushed them away, her touch tender and reassuring.
"It's okay, little one," Bela whispered, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. "You're safe here with us."
And in that moment, as the storm raged outside and the fire crackled softly, Y/N knew they had found a home, not just within the walls of Castle Dimitrescu, but within the hearts of its inhabitants. And as they nestled closer into the embrace of their newfound family, they allowed themselves to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find healing and happiness in the warmth of their love.
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p1nkcanoe · 3 days
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the polaroid collection: copia
this is part eight and the final part of the polaroid collection, based off of 'picture this'. you can either find the masterlist here, read on ao3, or read below:
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Swiss said he had been done taking pictures. He’d put the camera away – stored it back in its box in his closet and tucked away the extra film. He said he was more than satisfied with his work. He was done. 
So then how in the world did he get here? 
Swiss should have never invited himself into his Papa’s private quarters. He should have never agreed to stay for a glass of wine while something bluesy spun around and around on the turntable. He shouldn’t have made that flirty little joke that made Copia giggle, shouldn’t have reached for the sliver of pale, creamy skin that peeked out from the expensive fabric of his night robe, and definitely should not have pulled on the ties that held the entire thing together. 
But – fuck – Copia did not have the right to look that good. Captured under the caress of golden light and silhouette on full display as silk fell to the floor in a bundle, undereyes still smokey with old paint and graying hair messed from the long day. And his tongue didn’t have to be that loose after just a bit of wine… In truth, Swiss isn’t sure exactly what led to him wearing his Papa’s silken robe, his master below him and on his knees, covered in a thin film of sweat with his cock leaking profusely between his legs and a collar etched with the singular word “PRINCESS” buckled loosely around his neck… and to anyone looking in, the scene set out before him would look nothing less than taboo. A secret night of roles reversed, a servant become master, a most unexpected shift in power… but Swiss loves his Papa dearly, and he is hopelessly devoted to him, even with his leash wrapped securely around his fist. 
At some point between stripping him bare and guiding him gradually and carefully, step by step like an old dog to kneel in front of his own standing mirror, Swiss had managed to connect a leash to the loop at the front of the thing around his neck, and the pretty length of sleek leather felt too nice wrapped tightly around his fist. There’s an undeveloped photograph in his free hand and within the solid white border appears the faintest outline of his own broad silhouette as it looms from behind the one settled just in front of him. 
Just a ghoul and his Papa… spending quality time together over a vintage bottle of red… and yet he can barely focus because the larger-than-life Papa Emeritus the Fourth looks so small. 
“Nobody ever sees that,” Copia says in a single quick push of air. He’s panting, voice strained, shoulders slumped inwards, and a slightest wheeze has settled into his throat since he last spoke. He’s locked his mismatched eyes onto Swiss’ through the reflection of the mirror, something pleading and serious, and the corner of Swiss’ mouth curls upwards into a smirk as he flits his eyes back and forth between the photograph and his most unexpected muse. Copia swallows so hard that his throat clicks from behind the thick material of the collar. The metal loop clinks, glinting under the low light. “Not another soul, my ghoul, do you hear me?” 
The ghoul acknowledges his request but only barely. There are much more interesting things he’s become preoccupied with, and the future of the photograph in his hand is for, well, the future. 
Swiss watches in real time as the generous bulge of his own cock appears in faded color, just beside his Papa’s pretty head. It looks good, of course it does. Big and prominent. He presses the heel of his hand into his groin, pleased to find his arousal hasn’t deflated at all since the photo was taken, and Copia’s collar jingles as he twists his head up to readdress him, a hand firmly planting itself to the front of his strong thigh. 
“My ghoul–”
“Yes, Papa, I heard you,” he cuts him off, but doesn’t do so to be rude. Engrossed in the photograph, he’d failed to catch the hints of anxiety building in his words until he was begging for even a sliver of his attention – a sliver of assurance his dignity would be protected – and Swiss had been quick to stop him before any more of those terrible-sounding words could leave his mouth. For the first time since the photo was dispatched from the camera, he looks away and finds his Papa through the mirror’s reflection, his pink lips wavering between unspoken words and hands clasped shyly in his lap. His erection hid beneath them. 
Swiss doesn’t like that look on him at all. 
The photograph drops from where it was pinched between his fingers and flutters to the floorboards, flipping through the air until it settles somewhere out of sight, hiding partially beneath the edge of a woven rug. In an instant the ghoul drops to his knees and wraps his strong, dusky arms around the tops of Copia’s shoulders, hands lightly groping at his chest and tracing the curves of the tattoo on his breast. 
“I heard you,” he assures him and buries a lingering kiss to the crown of his skull, “and I promise that the only eyes that will get the privilege to see you like this are my own. You have my word.” 
He feels him relax in real time and only pulls him closer to his chest, allowing him a moment to shift his weary legs as he desires to feel comfortable settled securely in his ghoul’s arms. When his old knees crack and pop, Swiss pretends not to notice. The ancient floorboards are not kind to tired joints, but that is why Swiss is there to help him when he fails to find comfort and the pleasure in his aging body. He will always be there. 
Copia sighs and lets the air escape from his lungs in a single, drawn-out breath when he finds his position against his ghoul’s strong frame. Pressed firmly against his chest and nearly in his lap, the fabric of his own robe that has been borrowed by the other feels cool against his skin and yet fiery hot where the infernal heat of Swiss’ core leaks through. When he opens his eyes he’s met with the golden orbs of the other as they peer through the grand mirror’s reflection, watching the expressions change and shift on his features and returning only love and adoration back at him. It warms him. Somehow, this ghoul feels like home. 
“Comfortable, Papa?” 
“Yes, I–” he chokes on his voice when Swiss’ hand suddenly drops from his chest to reach for his cock and begin to stroke. Long, slow strokes from root to tip that make the old man want to melt into him for the rest of time and never leave the floor. “Yes– that. That is nice…” 
Swiss chuckles softly and the vibrations settle against his spine, blooming with warmth when his laughter rolls over into a lasting, gentle purr. His hand continues to rhythmically dance over his cock, tugging at the tip and dipping the tip of his index finger into the sticky pre that bubbles at his tip, spreading it over his skin for a more pleasurable slide. Copia goes practically boneless in his arms and lets his weight fall into the other’s more massive frame, and Swiss shuffles forward, humming softly when the hard bulge of his own cock finds pressure between Copia’s lower back. 
Swiss is warm there, too. Hotter than any other part of him, and Copia can’t help but lean further into it, asking silently for more of his body. Swiss is happy to oblige, spreading his knees slightly and rolling his hips forward, pulling Copia’s chest into him at the same time and moaning nice and low into his graying hair when they press together just right. A little more of that nice push and pull and Copia twitches in his hand, a little noise slipping past his lips that sets Swiss’ tummy aflame with desire. He dips his chin to nuzzle at the sweat-covered skin just behind his ear and shudders when his heady scent fills his nose, warm and so very human. The pulsing of his blood is deafening in his ears and he begins to radiate with a pulsating heat that not even dewdrop could match.
“Tell me what you need, Papa. I exist to serve you, my master. My muse.” 
His Papa moans, loud and pretty, completely unabashed, and Swiss clutches at his skin tighter, pulling him against his chest so insistently that his legs slide upwards along the floor and he’s pulled fully into his lap. He squeaks when Swiss’ arm temporarily restricts the ability for his lungs to expand and he clutches at his balls with his palm and the multi ghoul is quick to release him, smoothing the places where his hands were momentarily cruel with tender caresses of his mortal appreciation and a sincere, silent apology. 
Copia lifts a hand to one of the ghoul’s spiraling horns and sighs, catching his breath. “Reserve the roughness for your packmates, you know I am far more fragile than they are…” 
Swiss returns his hand to his cock and ghosts the pads of his fingers over the prominent vein at the side, his nose still buried in his hair. His breath tickles his skin when he breathes out and Copia shivers, grasping at whatever parts of the other that he can. 
“I know. Got the better of myself for a moment there.” 
Copia hums and covers Swiss’ hand with one of his own, guiding his much longer fingers to wrap more wholly around his shaft, and Swiss gets the message, stroking him more similarly like he was before, and Copia sighs blissfully into the air, eyes fluttering closed. The ring at the front of his collar jingles with every twisting stroke, glinting under the light of his golden lamp light, and the rest of the length of the leather leash lies in a messy coil to the side of their bodies. Merely a momentary prop for a carefully curated photograph. 
They continue like that for a while until Swiss is throbbing against his backside and Copia groans in slow building frustration. The position he’s been wrestled into is more than nice, but it is hard on his bones, and the constant pull of the multi ghoul’s arms has tightened his back and caused him to ache. He shuffles forward, cants his hips upward into Swiss’ hand, but it doesn’t seem to help. It only seems to make it worse and a sudden spike of pain zings up his spine and causes him to wince. He attempts to reposition himself again, twisting and turning in his lap, and Swiss loosens his grip, peering through the mirror and frowning at the looks of discomfort strewn across his handsome face. 
“So eager to get away from me? So soon?” He teases, yet his words are empty as he helps his Papa slide from his lap back to the floor. Copia offers him a breathy laugh and a slight roll to his mismatched eyes and reaches back to pat the multi ghoul’s knee, “Simply in need of a change, that is all.” 
“Tell me how you need me.” 
Copia sighs and settles back on his calves as he mulls over his options. His hands rest momentarily frozen on his thighs and his cock lies heavy between them, hard as ever and leaking. His knees ache in the position that he kneels in and he begins to feel a tingle in his toes from where his feet are trapped beneath his weight. 
Satanas, when did he get so old? 
The old man frowns and makes a pained sound when he attempts to readjust. Swiss is quick to assist him with gentle hands on his hips and his waist, yet when he manages to get up on his hands and knees, Swiss doesn’t allow him to go anywhere else. Copia strains his neck to find the mirror, and waiting there on the other side is his beautiful multi ghoul, holding him still and upright with both huge hands on either sides of his hips, and his eyes are darker than he remembered them being before–more of a deep cadmium now than a glimmering gold–and they stare into him like he wants to devour him, taste him beginning from his head down to the tips of his toes. That strong tail flicks behind him, gliding through the air, and Swiss pulls him back against him to press his hard cock into the meat of his ass. Copia feels something spread like ice water down his spine at the feeling, caught between pleasure and surprise. His voice shakes when he opens his mouth again to speak. 
“Per favore, my ghoul. Be gentle…” 
Copia looks so small on his hands and knees, somehow smaller than he appeared in the photograph. So fragile… Swiss could break him so easily. He could overpower his master in a single swipe of a clawed hand, a bite of sharp teeth, but he would never. Could never. His ghoulish hands are for holding, exploring and appreciating that most perfect body, his lips for worshiping every inch of creamy, wrinkled skin until he’s been blessed with the immortal magic that binds him to this mortal plane. Yes, Swiss wants to devour him entirely until nothing remains, memorize the scent of his skin and taint the richness of his blood that only mortals contain, but more than that, he wants to be a worthy servant. He wants to be the most devoted ghoul that his Papa has ever summoned. 
The air has gone still around them, suspended in a vacuum chamber, and Copia’s heart pounds between his lungs as the ghoul behind him grinds his cock more squarely between his bare cheeks and kneads at the swells of fat on his tummy. The fabric that separates them is barely there, shifting and changing in the light and bunching up over the swell of his ass. Fine silks that cost him a fortune, imported from places far away. He can feel Swiss’ cock weeping, leaking a wet spot into the material. It’ll ruin the fabric for sure, but it’ll be the least of his worries if his thighs continue to shake like they are. Copia swallows nervously and reaches back for one of the hands planted on his skin. He doesn’t even have to ask for what he needs. Swiss knows. 
The ghoul finds it in his eyes, the wrinkles in his forehead, the slight shaking of his muscles… he pulls his Papa up on his knees and wraps an arm across the front of his chest, hand tucked into the soft skin under his armpit, and gently knocks the fingers away that have migrated to his dick to take him into his own hand instead. Copia melts immediately, his shoulders falling forward and slumping slightly as Swiss takes good care of him and focuses all of his attention into his building pleasure. The position is less than ideal, and the grooves in the boards are already imprinting themselves into both of their kneecaps, but Swiss doesn’t plan on keeping him there for too long. He strokes him, pulls expertly at his slippery tip, and his Papa moans beautifully for him, whispering incoherent things into the air that get lost in the sweet heat of it all, and Swiss thanks him with kisses to his cheeks, his temples, and the soft curve of his ear. 
He shushes him when he begins to pant, reminds him to relax when his muscles tense and tighten, and noses at the slight stubble that he’ll happily shave for him when the morning comes – if he allows him the privilege to stay. 
He holds his Papa firmly and securely against his chest the moment he crests, his breath stolen away as his body climaxes and he paints Swiss’ knuckles with his release. And when it’s all over he continues to stroke him slowly until the bliss wanes and the sensitivity begins to creep in and he breathlessly asks him to stop. 
The reflection in the mirror that looms in front of them is starkly different from the one captured in the photograph that lies somewhere within the room, forgotten until it is found again, but it is one that Swiss will never forget until the day that he ceases to exist for a second time… And until then he’ll keep that mental image locked securely away in his brain for only himself to see. 
A privilege as great as this one, the photograph doesn’t belong in the box with the others, anyway.
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peaktora · 3 months
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𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).
a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here
p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!
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"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.
your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”
he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."
clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.
you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.
he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."
“what are y—“
“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”
"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.
he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."
you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"
he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."
two can play that game.
“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.
he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.
or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.
"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.
you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”
you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.
“satoru—”
“what happened to nicknames?”
“satoru.”
"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"
"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."
"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”
"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"
“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”
“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.
his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”
“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”
“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”
you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“
he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“
you tsk, making him drop his excuse.
“wh—“
"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.
you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.
before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.
the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.
“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.
"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."
you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”
“i love you more.”
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)
The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]
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The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.
"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.
"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.
It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.
"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."
Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.
You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?
After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.
"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."
Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.
"So then, what do you suggest?"
"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."
"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"
"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.
"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.
Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.
"Hey!"
"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."
The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.
"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."
"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."
"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."
"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."
Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.
"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."
Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.
"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."
You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.
"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.
Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.
"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.
"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.
"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."
You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.
"I'll carry you. Just hold on."
A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.
The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.
By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.
It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.
"That's Suma."
"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.
"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."
You cannot help but gawk at the structure.
"Is it, uh, life sized?"
"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.
You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.
"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.
"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.
"Really?"
You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.
What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.
You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.
"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 
"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."
Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.
"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 
He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 
"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."
It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.
"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."
"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."
"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."
And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 
Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.
Which reminds you...
The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.
He turns to you, mildly irked.
"What?"
"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.
"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.
"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."
And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:
"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."
"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.
Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.
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Note
Getting fucked by ghostface!Billy in an alley on your way back from Tatum’s. He tried to scare you and pull this little stunt, but you figure out it was him
More Billy, YES (this is 1.5k, enjoy)
Please read the warnings before reading this one, some of the content might make you uncomfortable or be triggering for you
Warnings: 18+, dub-con, semi-public sex, p + v, non-protected sex, creampie,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Dewey to drive you home? He should be there at ten,’’ Tatum asked again as you were getting ready to leave. ‘’The psychos are out at this hour...’’ 
You declined her offer. ‘’I can’t. My parents will have my head if I'm not home before curfew.’’ You grabbed your backpack and opened the door. ‘’See you tomorrow!’’ You waved at her before stepping out and closing the door. 
The chill autumn air brushing your face and the fallen leaves swished on the ground around you as you walked down the Rileys’ driveway and took the sidewalk. You didn’t particularly enjoy walking alone at night — no women did, honestly —, but Tatum’s house was only a few blocks from yours. 
On the way, you admired all the carved pumpkins out on the porches and other halloween decorations, making you miss when you were kids. Halloween was still fun as a teenager, but no parties could beat trick-or-treating and exchanging candies with your friends. 
As you turned on Elm street, a growing unease pricked at your senses. Someone was following you. Your steps became quicker, but not quick enough that your change of pace would alert the person behind you. The last thing you wanted was to let him know that you knew he was following you. He could take a run after you and it would be done for you.
You thought of going back to Tatum’s, maybe Dewey was home from work, but you were almost home. Instead, you took the shortcut to your house and turned in an alley, thinking you could kick a trash can at your pursuer's feet in case he tried anything, but a shadow loomed over you. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape.
Fear pulsed within you, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. You struggled against the grip, your instincts kicking in as you fought to break free. The scent of leather filled your nostrils as you twisted and wriggled, attempting to loosen the stranger's hold.
A distorted voice pierced the air, its chilling words sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’Don’t you know walking home by yourself at night is a danger-magnet? Especially with a tight little skirt like yours,’’ he said as the hand that wasn’t over your mouth slid up your thigh, making your heart race in fear of what was going to happen. 
A sickening feeling twisted in your stomach. Maybe you should have waited for Dewey to drive you home. Your parents would have been mad for not respecting your curfew, but at least you would have been safe. 
You tried to scream again, and fight back, but the stranger only laughed at your attempts. 
‘’You’re not gonna escape me, babydoll,’’ the distorted voice laughed, tightening their grip and pressing your front against the brick wall of a building. ‘’If you try, I’ll gut you like a fish.’’ Something cool touched your leg and tears pricked in your eyes. 
A knife. 
Tatum was right about psychos being out at this hour…
You turned your head slightly, trying to see who was holding you, but all you saw was a strange halloween white mask with a black hood. 
‘’Have you ever been told how good your ass looked in that skirt? Bet your boyfriend likes to take you from behind, uh?’’ The hand that was on your thigh moved up, pulling your skirt and lifting it up, making your skin crawl. 
The night air hit your bare ass, completely exposed to the masked stranger, and you pressed your thighs together. You doubted it would stop the man from doing anything, but you could at least try. 
‘’Mmh, what a nice ass,’’ he pointed out, smacking his hand on your ass-cheek, the sound resonating in the alley, and grabbing it. You squeaked at the impact. ‘’I can’t wait to feel it against me as I pound in your tight pussy.’’
Your stomach churned. Your night was turning into a nightmare. 
‘’Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you dare scream…’’ he trailed with a threat.
You nodded, having no other choice. He was the one with the knife.
‘’Spread those legs, hands on the wall,’’ he ordered, the distorted voice glitching a little, causing you to hear the man’s real voice. It sounded familiar, like you had heard it before, but a lot of men had similar voices. 
Shaking that thought, you obeyed and parted your legs, holding a hiss when pressing your hands against the rough brick.   
‘’Now what?’’ you spat, looking over your shoulder.  
The stranger chuckled, then pushed himself up against the curve of your ass, letting you feel his erection through his clothes, the hardness and heat radiating from his body admittedly kind of hot. ‘’Now I'm gonna stick it in you and rearrange your insides, you dumb fucking bitch.’’
You gasped at his words, arousal leaking through your panties. 
A car drove by on the other end of the alley, making the both of you go completely still. Minutes ago, you would have been relieved that a car was driving by. Not anymore. A sick and twisted part of you wanted the masked stranger to fuck you against that wall. 
Once the car was out of earshot, the masked man another grope of your ass, then pulled aside your underwear, running a gloved hand over your folds and discovering your little secret. 
‘’Is this…turning you on?’’ 
You kept quiet, disgusted and ashamed of yourself. 
He laughed, keeping going with the teasing by pressing a finger inside you, making you gasp as you automatically clamped around it. ‘’It is turning you on.’’ You heard the smirk in his voice. ‘’Dirty little slut.’’ 
You whined at his words, his finger moving in and out, but not nearly enough. ‘’Please,’’ you surprised yourself by saying, chasing his finger. ‘’I need more.’’ 
If anyone were to see you right now, you would be mortified. Not only were you getting sexually assaulted by a masked stranger in an alley, but you were enjoying it. It was sick.
Much too soon, he removed his finger, making you whine in protest. You turned your head to glance at him, but his head was down and you couldn’t see much. 
‘’Think you can handle my cock in you? Your slutty little cunt is weeping around my finger,’’ he said as he reached beneath his robe, fighting with his belt buckle and zipper to free himself. 
Your stomach bubbled with excitement, your teeth catching your bottom lip when you felt his hard cock pressing against your entrance. You pushed back against him, the hard press of his tip prodding at you, his pre-cum mixing with your leaking arousal. 
Your jaw dropped as you felt his cock part your folds, pushing himself all the way inside before stilling for a few seconds. Fuck. His dick was filling you so good. He gave a first snap of hips and a moan escaped from your lips, louder than you were expecting. 
Behind you, the masked man stopped moving, clamping a hand over your mouth as he hissed in your ear. ‘’Keep quiet or I’ll stop playing with your cute little cunt. Can't get caught, can we?’’ he warned, forgetting to use the voice distorter and giving himself away. 
‘’Billy Loomis, you sick fu—’’ 
Your words were cut off as his thick cock plunged back into you, making you moan instead. 
Billy laughed. ‘’Surprise, babydoll.’’ He gripped your hip firmly with one hand, the second coming around your throat while he was pounding in you from behind, stars flying around in your vision as the pleasure filled your whole body, explicit groans and muffled moans filling the dark alley.
‘’Always so fucking tight,’’ he grunted, getting really hot under the mask. Halloween costumes were not made to be worn during sex. 
You tried your best to brace yourself, both hands flat on the brick wall as Billy kept pistoning into you, your legs were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. ‘’Ahh, yes, just like that!’’ 
After he emptied himself and rode the waves of your respective pleasure, Billy slipped out from you, a white string of hot cum connecting you to him. He smirked under the mask, loving to watching himself leak from your abused pussy and drip out and down your leg. 
‘’You’re insane,’’ you said, turning around to face your boyfriend, your wrinkled skirt still bunched up at your waist. 
Laughing, Billy pulled the mask off his face, his lips curved into a wicked grin. ‘’The best people are.’’ 
You both fixed yourself in silence, having enough played with public indecency for tonight. As thrilling and exciting as this had been, you didn’t want an actual stranger to see you exposed like that.  
‘’How did you know I just left Tatum’s?’’ 
‘’Stu,’’ he explained. ‘’Tatum called him saying you just left, so I put on that sweet little costume and decided to surprise you. Did you like it?’’ 
You grabbed the front of the black robe and kissed him in response.
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3K notes · View notes
painism · 14 days
Text
𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐒, 𝐈𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐍' 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 !
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TRY NOT TO MAKE A SOUND ITS MY MOMMA'S HOUSE ! ; HOW THE JJK MEN GIVE HEAD !
WARNINGS; DRABBLES GOJO AND TOJI . PUSSY EATING. PUSSY SLAPPING, SPITTING, PRAISE, DEGRADING, FEMALE READER , FEMALE ANATOMY, NAMES LIKE : PRETTY GIRL BABY USED, FINGERING, EATING THROUGH PANTIES, CUM EATING, ABSOLUTE FILTH ! REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED NOT PROOF READ.
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
"shh toji, 'we gotta be quiet" you whine into the pillow, doing your best to bite back your moans as toji prys your panties off, moving over your cunt, rubbing over your nub and when he pulls his thick fingers away from your cunt they're coated in a layer of sticky cum that clings to his fingers, "she's excited for me hm?" he chuckles, his voice deepening as he settles on the ground his fingers pressed against his tongue, tasting you on his tongue, eyes still locked on yours, your legs spread open over the leather couch as his fingers work over your thighs, his hand coming down harshly on your clit. "be loud, i wanna hear you." he mumbles, his fingers working inside you, his fingers running past your gummy walls, "can feel you tightening round my fingers, how're you gonna take my cock?" your hand cards through his hair pulling him into your cunt, you'll never hear the end of it later, but all you wanted was his tongue working in you. his tongue flicks against your clit in slow antagonizing swipes, while his fingers work faster inside you. "please I need it, toji !" you whine, barely making sense from your fucked out state, plus muffled from your face pressed against the pillow "getting real bossy ma'." his tongue works over your clit in sloppy circles, his second hand running over your clit while he sucks at the swollen nub, your fingers tighten is his hair tugging him further in while your thighs fly closed over his head, he smacks against the inside of your thigh before you close your legs fully. his hands holding both of your legs to the either sides of him, his tongue fucking into uou as you moan and whine, feeble attempts at chasing your orgasm.
𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
"cmon princess ya gotta let me taste ya" he whines over the cushioned couch, his hand rubbing over your thigh as his head lays weakly over your legs. "I might die without it, seriouslyyyy" he drags out the 'y' while he whines, his cheeks plumping as he pouts "the strongest weak for some pus?" you question throwing your book over the couch and onto the ground. "for yours? absolutely." he smirks. lifting his head from your lap. "well then, get t' work toru!" you slide your thighs on either sides of his face, his hands instinctively sliding over meeting your thighs, his tongue rubs against your cunt through your panties experimentally, taking licks over your cunt as you whine through your complaints. "stop teasin' toru!" you feel his tongue prod at your clit through your spit soaked panties, your hand carding through his hair as you toss your head back, eyes rolling as you twist your fingers through his kempt locks, tangling them between your fingers "pull any harder n were both gonna cum, pretty" his hand makes its way up your thigh, slipping your panties to the side as his tongue slides between your pussy lips, his tongue sliding over your leaky hole, his fingers rubbing your clit as his tongue teaches past your tight gummy walls, pulsing and squeezing as he tongue fucks your tight cunt, his tongue retracting for a moment, followed by coos of praise as be fucks two fingers into your cunt stretching you out, his eyes locking with yours as he works you to your orgasm. his eyes never leaving yours as you whine out of want for him. "cum on my fingers baby" his muffled words does something for you as your belly tightens, your clit swollen and abused from satorus tongue and fingers working you overtime, you let out a thready moan and a shake, his fingers slip outside of you after a final deep thrust, his tongue working over his fingers as he smirks, at your fucked out state. he crawls overtop of you, "ya taste sweet baby." his lips meet yours as he works your taste into your mouth.
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© PAINISM / SAELESTIA 2024. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.
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601 notes · View notes
fluorynn · 1 month
Text
🎆 — 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫 | 𝐧. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 ( one-shot )
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Aged up!tattooed!Neteyam ✗ fem!human!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : AGED UP!NETEYAM — don’t like it? Please don’t read! implied!smut, spanking, teasing, heavy touching, tattooed!Neteyam being obsessed with reader’s tits, implied sex on the beach—Neteyam just loving on reader’s body, guys shsjdkdkdk—
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k+
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @rivatar @jioohyo @property-of-neteyam @pandoraslxna @xstarsdiary @xylianasblog
author’s note : neteyam with tattoos. The vision, THE VISION GUYS. Lemme know what you think😭😭
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“You see now, narlor ( beautiful ), these right here—” The pair of tattooed hands which belonged to Neteyam had skidded from your bare waist to the scarcely clothed plumpness of your breasts, the perkiness of your nipples. Hands which held a great convenience in engulfing entirely, slender digits practically entwining around the expanse of your back from how much smaller you were than him, his palms delicately kneading the soft flesh. “These lovely girls brighten my day. If I am upset, they commit to making me content. If I am stressed, they relieve me. They relieve me far better than anything else on Pandora.”
While your current sitting position upon his tsurak made it much easier for you to meet him at an eye-level as he was within the water, the pressure of his touch accompanied by the hefty weight of his elongated frame leaning forward pushed you further against the squirming tsurak.
“Teyam, baby,” The pair of dainty hands which belonged to you splayed over his ink etched shoulders to keep him from leaning forward. Hands which held purposeless strength when it came to be compared to Neteyam — or any other Na’vi for that matter. A giggle bubbled from your throat from the way that your ridiculously tall lover’s accent emphasized his words spoken in English while his affections dawdled every inch of you. “You play too much, you know that? I mean, you can’t be serious.”
“Uh, yes I certainly am fucking serious.” The edges of his mouth twisted downwards, a form of a crease upon his striped forehead. “I adore every part of you, tìyawn. From those pretty eyes and pretty smile, that soft belly and thighs that are so plushy and drive me insane,” The extent of his tail wreathed around your thigh, its length nearly taking up the entire limb. “And do you want to know something else, hmm? Just by receiving a look from you after a long day of training, swimming and patrolling makes me so content…but when I get the opportunity to do more than just look at you, and I get to touch you,'' His head canted back, the subtle clink of his plaits accompanying the groan that breathed into the star-filled sky, and the desperate sound was nearly enough to make a whimper drawl out of you. “Great Mother, words can’t describe that amazing opportunity.”
Your bottom lip curled between your teeth, gnawing the supple flesh at the flawless sight you had of the pillar of his throat; the vivid twinkles of Neteyam’s freckles clashing beautifully with the velvet blues of his skin beneath the night’s glow. The honed structure of his jawline contrasted beneath the beads of necklaces and tattooed art you had taken a passionate liking to.
His kuru was still entangled in the bond with his tsurak, mind giving a command to gently swim you to the coastline of Awa’atlu. While Neteyam followed along, that does not mean he paused the leisurely journey his touch made around your body; brushing from the outer curves of your breasts, finger pads grazing below your ribcage to encircle around your waist before a brim of some sort of curiosity crossed his features. His hands then deftly slid beneath you, and forgotten was the tsurak the moment the shore came to view.
“And this? This perfect ass of yours is so damn good for me, my love.”
The sharpness of his large palm colliding with the meat of your ass reverberated through Pandora’s atmosphere followed by your yelp of a stunned ‘hey!’. Stunned from both the vulgarity of his tongue and the outburst of his actions.
“Forgive me, narlor.” He chuckled endearingly, not resisting the urge to smack your ass once, then twice, applying almost all of his strength to the pressure which sent a wave of scorching heat across your neutral toned skin. You reached for him, planting your hands over his damp chest, the density of your lashes fluttering down as gleaming incisors scraped over the flushed apple of your cheek, softly biting down in a teasing manner until wisps of giggles flew from you.
“Yeah, that is the best of the best right there, is it not?” He mused, ear flitting near your jaw emphasizing his content. One arm now fully enclosed around your midsection, your forearms resting upon his shoulders while he made his way out the water which was halfway up his torso. He didn’t need to see to know which way he was going though. While he was entranced in the pretty depths of your eyes and let his forehead hover over yours, he was certain where he went.
“Well then, I believe I’m glad I could be of use to the mighty warrior.” you replied, the breathless and amusement of your voice bestowing how much you reveled in his act as one of your hands delicately soothed over your sore cheek. The other admiringly traced over the tattoos encircling his bicep, twisting and turning up across his defined collarbone and skimming up his neck, cheek, and temple, telling a story no other human would understand but you. Fingertips fiddled over the adorable flickers of his high perched wars, and soon threaded into the cascade of his dark braids.
He perhaps was not the only one completely enamored with every detail of his lover. But could you really be blamed? Every part of Neteyam was beyond captivating.
“Irayo ( thank you ).” Sharp incisors collided with the brilliance of his smile, squeezing his hold around you. In one smooth motion within the water, thanks to his inhuman strength, he hoisted you a bit higher so your legs now wrapped beneath his arms, chest now flushed against the length of his broad one, feeling the muscle’s tight coils, the immense heat he radiated despite being in the cool water.
You chewed your lip at how his large hand pushed into the small arch of your back, the subtle swirls of his tail due to excitement because of such proximity stirring you within.
Neteyam acknowledged how much you enjoyed being manhandled by him and him only — whether it be gently or unruly — and he never wasted any chance given to take action on it and witness the vulnerability you gained when he did, making the most of it in his time spent with you.
Long fingers glide up your throat, long enough to engulf the entire base, the index one curling around your jaw. His thumb gently pushed your chin up and slanting your head slightly up until you were met with the warrior’s resplendent irises.
“Yet do you know what, who else is the cause of my content?” He inquired, raking his (appealing) tongue over his lower lip.
The simple act had your thighs clench hard around him, a throbbing pulse flaring to existence between.
“N-no..” Lies. It was more than obvious by the feign of innocence glazing those pretty doe-like eyes.
His own eyes, gleaming and fierce, called out to you. Silent to others, yet soaring for your soul. His senses more than feel the spasms of heat from your every fiber, every curve. He released his hold on your face, both hands now enveloping your ass.
“You are certain of this, yawntutsyìp?”
“U-uh huh, yeah…” anticipation swelled in your chest as you shakily exhaled, mentally cursing for not having anything to physically support yourself other than Neteyam’s grand body. By now, his feet were already amongst the sand and you’re still being held up by him.
Without taking his sharp gaze off you, he slowly, so very slowly started to descend down to his knees in the middle of the beach. Though with his descent brought the ascent of your body, the intoxicating scent of your essence being inhaled by his flaring nose while your legs dangling over his shoulders. You could have been afraid, yet the trust felt for him and arousal growing outweighed that fear, and instead you let him do whatever it was he pleased.
He knew this from the mischief that struck his features as your back subtly met the damp sand, as you shuffled until you were propped on your elbows to look down at him and his large body slithered down, gazing up at you with love and lust.
He traced the abstaining desire on your face, thrill surging through the warrior. His face nestled against your tummy while nimble digits undid the twines of your own tewng, his nose and puckered lips feathering over the bare skin of your thighs while his hands slid lower and lower…
Eyes fell to the between your slightly parted legs, taking in the glistening appeal, and a soft smirk twisted his lips up. “May I show you just how much she makes me content?”
“I-if that’s what you wanna do…” Even you could not fall for your poor attempt at the facade of nonchalance.
His smirk spiraled, two fingers brushing down said curve between your thigh and hip bone before dipping down to your pussy the very exact time a wave came crashing along the shoreline, and if it weren’t for the shielding of his body you may have been caught in it. But somehow, the harsh sensations given from the ocean deliciously twisted something in your stomach when it came upon Neteyam’s silhouette, in a trance at the predator-like swivels of his tail.
He grinned widely against you, “Narlor, what I am about to do to you and my girl is going to make us very, very content…”
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satorusugurugurl · 4 days
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heyy!! how ru? soooo, i was thinking about jjk men found out that reader has problems with food, if you are okay with it, could you write it? if you r not its okay! you are a great writer and i love reading your stuff!! kisses!
JJK Men: When You Have an Issue With Food
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna
Word Count: 3,907
Warning: Themes of eating disorders, issues with food, negative body image, suggestiveness, fluff in the end
A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! As someone who has struggled with issues regarding an eating disorder, this took me a bit of time to figure out, but I feel proud of it. Please seek out resources if you struggle as well! There are so many helpful resources that have helped me!
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Gojo Satoru:
Satoru loved sweets. He developed his love in high school when stimulating his brain, which led to him developing a sweet tooth, so you could always count on him to bring home all sorts of sweets, which was nice. You enjoyed it until someone at work mentioned that it looked like you gained weight. You brushed it off at first, but it struck a nerve when she said you might lose your boyfriend if you continued eating the sweets. Did you put on a few pounds since you started dating Gojo? Was it all the sweets you had been enjoying with him?
The comment had you poking at your stomach in the mirror with a pout. That woman blatantly announcing their view in front of your coworkers was rude. It was embarrassing and had you questioning if Satoru had noticed if you gained weight. You need to stop indulging in sweets, or more people might start making comments about your weight. Or the worst-case scenario was that Satoru would leave you.
That same day, you went straight to the gym when you got home. You heard footsteps rushing to the door when you returned to your apartment. Satoru nearly tackled you as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly as you headed for the kitchen.
“Hi, Toru!” You giggled as Satoru shuffled with you into the kitchen, not once letting you go. “How did the mission go?”
“It was boring! I wish I could’ve brought you with me!” White strands of hair fly as he yanked his head away from your face. “But I brought you home some souvenirs.” He handed you a pink bag with a cute cat label. “Macaroons from France! This shop is known for its take on different flavors. Peanut butter and jelly blueberry and cinnamon roll. I bought one of every flavor for us to try.” His smile was wide and warm, leaving you feeling sick.
“Oh, thanks.” You placed the bag onto the counter with an evident frown. One Satoru saw your unenthusiastic reaction, and it made him pout.
“What’s wrong? You love macaroons.”
“I do. I just—” Nausea twisted in your stomach. “I can’t eat them anymore.”
The combination of ‘I do’ and ‘I can’t’ had Satoru reeling in stunned silence. “What do you mean you can't? Did you develop a macaroon allergy while I was gone?”
“No, I can’t keep eating sweets, Toru.”
Satoru could tell something had happened while he was gone. Usually, you jumped at the chance to try an exotic sweet he’d bring home. For you to be so dismissive wasn’t like you at all. He’d only been gone for a week, and suddenly, you had an aversion to sweets.
His fingers gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The second his eyes meet yours, he can feel your anguish. Tears glimmer in your eyes as a little hiccups sound in your chest. Seeing you in such a state had your boyfriend searching you for injuries only to realize it wasn’t on the surface but deeper.
“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and concern in his voice make you cry harder. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Satoru pulls you to the couch, sitting you directly on his lap.
“M-My c-co—“ si s wreck through you as you try to speak, “my coworker—”
“Your coworker what? Who do I need to Hollow Purple?”
Satoru runs his hands gently up and down your back, which is soothing. “They were asking if I gained wei—weight. A-And they said that I would lose you if I gained more.” His hands stopped moving, and his eyes widened in disbelief.
“I’m sorry. What the fuck did you just say?”
You spilled your guts out, telling him everything from what they said to you to going to the gym. Never once amid your rant did he interrupt you. He just held you, pressing kisses against your tear-stained cheeks until you shuddered with a sigh once you were done.
“Baby, my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Fuck them. Fuck those assholes; God, I hate people so much.” His hands grab your hips, making you straddle him to stare into his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. If you want different souvenirs, I’ll bring you something different. If you want me to bring you back, I will.” His hands gently stroke at your tear-stained cheeks. “But don’t let a bunch of assholes dictate what you can and can’t eat.”
Sincere cease the stream tears. “You think I’m perfect?” A smile graces your face, causing Satoru’s heart to flutter.
“Yes! I love you, whether you indulge in sweets or focus on going to the gym. Regardless of your choice, I’ll support you, whether I bring you home more treats or join you at the gym; say the word, and I’ll support you no matter what.”
You gently pressed your lips against him. To which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight as you messily made out like horn-crazed teenagers. You happily munched on the macaroons Satoru brought home the next day at work when your phone rang. The woman who had commented on your weight, Tadashi, appears on the caller ID, making you roll your eyes
“Yes?” You asked, licking the crumbs off your lips.
“You have a delivery here in the front.”
You rush to the lobby and pass other assistant supervisors into the waiting room. The delivery man is hidden behind the arrangement of your favorite flowers. You melted as you stepped forward, the floral scent drawing you in.
“Hi, those are for me.” You helped your hands out to the vase.
“Yes, they are!” The flowers lowered, and your grind blindfold creased as he stared down at you.
“Toru?!”
“Just had to remind you how perfect and loved you are!” he placed the flowers down before rubbing his arms around you. “I also want hollow purple the assholes who hurt you.”
“No, Toru, please don’t do that.”
While murder was out of the question, Satoru decided on a different approach to let your coworkers know how much you were loved. He wrapped his arms around you before dipping you in front of all of your shitty coworkers just before kissing you. He made such a scene making out with you and grabbing your ass that you were left a blushing mess. He finally managed to pull away; he flipped off the woman who had made such terrible comments to you.
“Hope this proves that I’m never going anywhere.” he slaps your ass again, drawing a squeak from you. “She’s mine forever and always, no matter what!”
Nanami Kento:
Ever since high school, you have had a food issue. When you were a child, your grandparents often commented about you cleaning off your plate or having seconds. They would frequently call you chubby or warn you that man would like a woman who finished her meals before him.
Because of their comments, you never ate as much as you would like. Purposely leave as much food on your plate as possible without starving yourself. While the habit was unhealthy, it pleased your grandparents to the point they finally got off your back about your plate and weight. After their deaths, the harmful habit caused by their poisonous words scarred you your whole life.
No matter how hungry you were, you never finished your plate. A handful of the entire plate was eaten at every meal you ate. If you were still hungry, water helped with the lingering traces of hunger. Because of your seemingly peckish behavior, you were called a bird throughout high school and even into adulthood. You didn’t see it in a bad way. You were eating the way you did, which never bothered you. You were happy and content with your choices until you started dating Nanami Kento.
When he first asked you out, you thought the good-looking man was pulling a joke on you. Much to your relief, he was serious. He wanted to take you out for dinner and drinks, which you excitedly agreed to. Nanami took you to the best restaurants in town, and it was. You moaned as you ate until you had to force yourself to stop, as you were dangerously getting close to finishing your plate for the first time in years.
Your grandparents' words haunted you as you reluctantly put your spoon down. That was the first time he picked up on your issue. The way you assured him that you were full when your eyes still lingered on your food or how you moaned when you took a bite of the sweet dessert, going in for another spoonful only to freeze and drop your spoon.
Something didn’t seem right, but Nanami wouldn’t pry on the first date. Perhaps you weren’t that hungry, or you were nervous around him. There was no point in bringing it up right now. He wasn’t even sure if he’d get a second date.
But he got that second date and the third, and soon, he became your loving, doting boyfriend
A boyfriend who noticed you not cleaning your plate off wasn’t just a one-time occurrence but a habit of yours. No matter the meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you never finished your plate. Even when you complained about how starving you were, you never ate until you were full.
You never looked satisfied whenever you ate; one would even say that you looked disappointed whenever your plate was taken away at restaurants. Or when you close the lid on your unfinished bento box. You wanted to eat, but something was preventing you from pushing past the limit you made for yourself
Nanami didn’t want to pry or embarrass you by bringing it up, but he could no longer hold his tongue after the two of you had gone to dinner. You stopped eating, and while he finished his meal, you chugged down an entire glass of water. Clearly, you were still hungry but not wanting to eat.
He decided he needed to bring up the manner in the comfort of his home, away from watchful eyes. So Nanami invited you to his condo for a homemade dinner featuring your favorite meal.
It was so good. The flavors were perfect, mouthwatering, and nearly orgasmic. You moaned eagerly, shoving more food into your mouth, losing yourself in the delicious meal made by loving hands; Nanami watched you while sipping on his wine, watching you eat until you stopped eating like always. The disappointment was evident on your face as you reluctantly put your fork down.
Now was the time to act.
“Darling, is the food not to your liking?” A sense of dread burned in your stomach as you looked up from your half-full plate at your boyfriend
“No, it was good! I’ve never tasted something so tasty.”
Nanami placed his wine glass down, licking his bottom lip. “ Are you just not hungry?” You shook your head, cheeks burning. “Then why don’t you eat more Love? You clearly want to.”
“But I don’t wanna lose you—”
Not expecting that to be your answer, Kento pulled his chair to your side, sat down, and gently grabbed your hands. You flushed as he brought them towards his mouth, pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles. Your boyfriend looked so distraught over your answer as if it had wounded him to the soul.
“Why do you think that? Have I made you feel if you were to finish your food, that would result in me leaving you? If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry.”
“Ken, no, no, wait a second.” Your fingers squeezed around his hand. “You didn’t do anything remotely close to making me feel that way.”
“Then why do you think you’d lose me if you were to finish a meal in front of me?”
Swallowing at the lump of dread in your throat, you sighed. “Well, it’s something my grandparents always used to say.” You told him everything about their crude remarks and terrible advice. You also confessed that despite their passing, their words still haunted you, making it hard for you to finish meals.
“That has to be the most asinine bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Kento snapped, irritation carved into his features. “People are so cold and cruel. They don’t understand that words can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.”
“Kento—”
“I can assure you that I would rather you finish your plate than starve yourself. Food is one of the many joys in life that is better shared and company.” He closed the small distance between you. “If you finish your plate, I won’t be disgusted or turned off. I promise you it’s the opposite; seeing you happy and enjoying yourself makes me happy.”
“It does?”
“You always look so happy when you eat something you like.” Nanami picked up your fork and is holding it out for you. “So please don’t let the cruel words of terrible people dictate how you live your life. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, so please eat as much as you’d like.”
Hearing those words from him, the man who stole your heart, made your soul soar. Confirming that your grandparents were terrible people and that he wouldn’t leave you left you feeling overjoyed. Like you had been set free. It was like Kento had taken bolt cutters to the chains wrapped around you for years. That rush of relief had you eating more food off your plate with a happy hum.
You ate all the food off your plate for the first time in years. Nanami grinned as he gently stroked your head, elated to you, so happy and satisfied. Seeing you in such a euphoric state delighted him; words could not describe it. Nanami Kento was falling hard for you, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.
Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):
“Big bro!” Sukuna Thomas is a slice of toast on Yuuji’s plate. “Bro!” The smaller boy pouts at his brother, who ultimately ignores him, tossing a butter knife into the sink. “Brother!”
“What?!” Sukuna snaps, running a hand down. His little brother is unfazed by his tone, happily munching away on the toast he had prepared for him.
“Big sis forgot her lunch again!” Yuuji always referred to you as his big sister, even though you were dating his older brother. Sukuna made a mental note to discuss calling you by either your last name or first name, whatever you preferred, when you got home from work.
“No, I handed it to her,” Sukuna is about to call Yuuji a brat for lying when he spots your Bento box wrapped in a cherry blossom cloth on the entrance table by the front door. He swears you’d lose your head if it weren't attached to your body. This was the third time you had forgotten your lunch this week. “Dumb little brat.” he snatches it off the entrance table to put it back in the fridge for you. “She’d if it wasn’t for delivery services and convenience stores. Always forgetting her shit.”
“She didn’t forget it.” Yuuji’s addition has his brother shutting the door to the fridge to box still in hand.
“The hell you mean she didn’t forget it?”
The smell of sterilized wipes makes your empty stomach twist. Maybe the fasting and the protein shake in the morning weren't cutting it anymore. This meant you would have to eat a bit more, which was something you didn’t want to do. Not when your beach trip with Sukuna and the boys was around the corner.
“Hey.” One of your coworkers tapped her knuckles on the door of the exam room you were cleaning. “Once you’re done here, you can take your lunch if you want.”
“Lunch?” You laugh, pulling your gloves off and tossing them in the trashcan. “If you count a protein shake as lunch, I’ll take it.”
“Oh,” your coworker covered her mouth, “ I think I just ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What the hell was she talking about? “Your boyfriend is in the lobby with your lunch.”
Oh fuck.
Without another word, you rushed through the office, heading to the lobby. Sukuna stood by the front desk with a scowl over his tattooed face. He was pissed, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to face him, but the plot to hide vanished the second his crimson eyes shot in your direction.
A chill ran down your spine as the sheer coldness in his gaze had you frozen in your spot until he motioned for you to come over with his index and middle finger. You approached him, smoothing out your scrubs, avoiding eye contact at all costs, which lasted for a second before Sukuna could use his fingers to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Let’s take a walk.” The sharpness of his tone left no room for discussion
“Okay.”
He at least waited until he was outside to turn and glare down at you. You would have to thank him for that. “Care to explain how you forgot your lunch?” His jaw is clenched, and the veins are popping out of his neck as he attempts to hold back his anger.
“I uh—”
“And before you even think about telling me ‘you forgot’ for the third time this week, long and hard about how you wanna answer my question.”
“I left it behind.”
Sukuna nodded with a scoff. “So does this mean you haven’t forgotten your lunch all week, or have you purposely left it behind?” You give him a guilt-ridden nod. “Why?” His being short and questioning your motives was exactly how you imagined his reaction if he found out what you were doing.
“Because of my diet.”
“Diet, the fuck you mean your diet?”
Your cheeks burn as he repeats the word diet ten more times as if repeating it will help him understand your reasoning. Sukuna listens to you sigh in defeat before sitting on the fountain's edge in front of the medical complex where you work. His frustration blinded him so much that he didn’t notice how you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth or how your leg bounced anxiously.
He sat down, putting your bento box off to the side. “Why are you skipping meals on this ‘diet’?” The bastard was using air quotes now.
“My coworker showed it to me. Two meals with protein shakes and eat only one big meal or day I could tone up.”
“So you’re basically ‘starving’ yourself to tone up?”
“Can you stop using air quotes?”
“I will once you tell me why you’re skipping meals for the shitty diet you don’t even need to be on. If you want to focus on your health and getting toned up, do it. I’ll go to the gym and show you how to use the machines. I’ll even spot you. But so that you know, I think you’re perfect the way you are.”
“You’re obligated to say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Your attitude in your tone has said boyfriend glaring daggers. “You’re muscular and buff, and I’m—“ you pout, “ I’m just me.”
“Yeah, and I want you, all of you.” He’s getting fed up with the piss-poor attitude you have going on. “What’s with the self-hate.”
Sukuna was expecting more attitude or possibly the silent treatment, but you didn’t; instead, it was quiet as your delicate fingers rubbed against your pants. “I-I bought a new swimsuit for the trip to the beach and—” your boyfriend perked up, interest peaked. “And it’s a little snug in some places.”
“Snug?”
“Yeah.” When you first got the swimsuit, you saw nothing wrong with it, but a friend of yours pointed out that your bottoms were a bit snug in the ass region—seeing that your beach trip was two weeks away, your coworker recommended the not-so-awesome diet you were on since you wanted to tone up; because if your friend thought it was snug. You could only imagine what your boyfriend would think. “I just wanna look good for you.”
“Oi.”
“Ye-mph!” Just as you turned to look at him, he shoved the tip of a rice ball into your mouth.
“I need to see you in those bottoms.” There was a certain cuteness with how he puffed his cheeks out as you eagerly chewed on the rice ball. Once you finish swallowing, you grab it by the end and pull it out, holding the remainder of it in your hand
“You want to see?”
“Of course, why the fuck would you listen to some nobody? Let me see them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”
That was the last thing you wanted, but you knew he wouldn’t let this go until you did. Taking another bite of the delicious rice ball, you sighed in defeat. “I’ll show you, Sukuna,” He flicked his finger against your forehead. “What was that for?!” He shoved the second rice ball into your mouth, silencing you.
“For being a dumbass, eat your lunch and bring those bottoms back to my apartment.” He pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I gotta get back to work, but don’t forget I love you the way you are. Please don’t starve yourself because you assume I wouldn’t like something on you.”
You ate all your lunch while dreading the mere thought of him seeing you in the bottoms, which your friend had deemed too tight. The anxiety of what was to come had your day flying by, and before you knew it, you were peeking your head out of the bathroom of Sukuna’s apartment. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, watching you closely.
“Promise you’ll be honest. I’m dead serious, Kuna.”
“Promise.” When you stepped out of the bathroom, Sukuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tight red bottoms you wore. They were snug and all the right ways. They were hugging your hips and the curve of your ass perfectly. The color complimented your skin tone. You were so fucking perfect. Your friend must have told you that your bottoms look too snug because they were jealous of you.
Sukuna stood up, crowding you against the wall, inhaling sharply as you hit the cool wall. Your tattooed boyfriend sunk to his knees, his lips and teeth nipping at your thighs up to the curve of your hips. The warmth of his mouth, how you gasped, your hands gripping the pink tufts of hair.
“Kuna.”
“Throw those fucking shakes away, babe. These are perfect.” His voice was muffled as he nipped harder at your skin.
“You don’t think they’re too snug?”
“No, they're perfect.” He whispered, drawing closer and closer to your core. “Now, let's have our own little experiment. I wanna see how well they do—” crimson eyes meet your panting flushed face, “when they’re wet.”
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks
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calummss · 7 months
Text
Sweet Ultraviolence | Klaus Mikaelson
masterlist
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summary: it was no secret that klaus mikaelson felt for you, but you didn’t, maybe deep down but not enough. so how do you react when the nortorious serial killer gives you the most fucked up surprise?
pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson
words: 4k
a/n: scene taken from the sexiest ahs scene ever. here’s a link !! probably my favourite klaus fic i have written. also smut!! i’ve written smut?? i’m not a smut writer so if it’s bad pretend it never happened….
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‘Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean it means anything.’
‘This date?’
‘Don’t call this a date.’
‘Why?’ Klaus asked,grabbing his wine glass, his gaze sitting on your frame as he sipped the red liquor. ‘We’re at my house, eating a lovely dinner with a beautiful girl. By my definition it is a date.’
‘Please,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you felt the warmth of the fireplace hit your bare skin, engulfing you in a hug. ‘You are fully aware of why I am here so let’s not read something into this.’
Sitting at a table with Klaus Mikaelson was not as romantic as it sounded. The dark walls pushing in on you, a dark gaze staring at you, darkness that made up the house. Even the plate of meat, potatoes and vegetables seemed less appetising as they normally would. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of the flesh that made you feel agitated, maybe it was the notorious vampire serial killer that so desperately wanted you to be his.
‘Still,’ he paused for a second, ‘you came.’
You yourself took a sip of the white wine you had mixed with sparkling water, the subtle bitterness biting your tongue, the warm fuzzy feeling of the alcohol leaving a familiar taste of comfort.
‘Klaus, sometimes I think you are so delusional, like how are you functioning?’
‘I function just fine, love.’
‘Get me another one of these,’ you held up your glass, lifting it to your red painted lips to drown the last drop of its contents. ‘And maybe I’ll continue to act like I am loving this dinner date from hell.’ You gave him a wide grin displaying your obvious sarcasm.
Klaus smirked, his twisted smile making your stomach churn. This would be a lot easier if he weren’t attractive but of course the maniac looks like he was carved by Lucifer himself.
‘That’s a tempting offer.’
He barely lifted his hand signalling the compelled boy that he wanted something. ‘Another white wine with sparkling water for my ravishing date, Taylor.’
‘Wow,’ you jested in fake astonishment, ‘so intimidating. Raising your hand, getting whatever you want…do you enjoy it? Getting everything with the snap of your fingers.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘You compel people to do stuff for you. Don’t you want people to do things because they want to? Care for you?’
‘No one cares about me, love.’ He chuckles, ‘I’m the monster, remember?’
You didn’t reply. You stayed silent, staring at him being the only communication amongst the quiet room, only the cracking of burning wood to be heard. ‘Why do you like me?’ You shoved the potato around your plate, using it to smear the watered down blood across the porcelain.
‘What’s not to like?’ Klaus shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the chair, the definition of his abs to see seen through the thin material of his shirt.
You looked up from your plate. ‘Just answer the question, please.’
‘You’re like a ray of sunshine on a bad day. When I’m near you I feel you good nature rub off on me—makes me want to stay close. You’re kind even if not to me, you treat everyone the same and give chances to people that probably don’t deserve them. You help when help is needed and disregard yourself for others. You’re beautiful. You smell good, and the fact that I cannot have you makes me want you even more.’
‘I’m not something you can own, Klaus,’
‘I can’t own you love, but I can own your heart if you let me.’
Again you stayed quiet, scared that if you speak he could hear the smitteness in your tone, knowing that for a second he had gotten under your skin.
‘Admit that you are drawn to darkness, Y/n,’ his eyes stared into the most inner part of your soul, ‘even the purest of heart are drawn to it.’
‘I never said I’m not, Klaus,’ you took a sip of wine. ‘I like darkness. The unknown, the excitement…Just because I don’t like your darkness Klaus doesn’t mean I’m denying my thoughts or feelings.’
‘Keep telling yourself that.’
‘You aggravate me.’ You downed the rest of your drink again, setting it down with a loud thud.
‘Makes you more attractive.’
‘Taylor?’ You smiled over at the boy Klaus had compelled for tonight’s dinner, that what you had hoped anyway, ‘Do you by chance have any earplugs, sweetheart?’
Taylor’s eyes grew wide, pressing his lips together as he turned his head towards Klaus for further instructions. Klaus felt his stare but continued to stare at you with a grin.
‘What are you staring at, Taylor? Get the lady some earplugs.’
Taylor left soon after, leaving the two of you alone which made you chuckle at Klaus who didn’t deny your request.
‘What?’ He asked plainly.
‘Nothing.’ You cut a piece of the steak and let the blood coat your tongue, continuing to feel his eyes linger on your for the rest of the night.
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A week later and you were back at school. Vacation was over and reality hit. Thankfully you were seeing Mr. Saltzman today. A class you could pay a little less attention to since you sat in the back of the room, daydreaming away. You were too busy talking to friends that you didn’t realise a pair of eyes that stalked you from afar. Eyes watching your every move.
Finishing up the conversation you said your goodbyes to Dana and Heather and turned around to head towards the gym but when you took a step back you collided with a body making them stumble and spill their drink on the floor.
‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?’ You reach out to help Connor find his balance but he slapped away your arms, letting out a deep growl.
‘What is your fucking problem, bitch?!’
‘Excuse me?’ You drew your eyebrows together. It was clearly an accident. Why was he getting so worked up?
‘I said what is your problem?’ He came dangerously close.
‘Hey,’ his friend pulled him back, trying to reassure him that it was an honest accident.
‘You better apologise.’
‘I literally apologised, asshole. How about you pipe down on your ego and take a long second to reevaluate your life? Pathetic.’
Connor’s face turned red, his strength releasing him from his friends grip, his face too close to yours for your liking. ‘I’ve disliked you since I’ve known you, Y/n. Don’t give me more reasons to hate you.’
‘Get a life.’ You laughed out loud.
‘You better watch your back!’
‘Okay, Connor. Will do.’ You called after him as he left the scene,his head turning your way as you cleaned off the few drops of water that caught themselves on your fabric. Chuckling to yourself, you headed the way you were supposed to go and headed towards cheerleading practice, the anger giving you a surge of adrenaline that reassured you that you were going to nail the landing you had failed to complete for weeks.
Klaus had watched the scene from afar, his eyes trailing Connor as he walked past Klaus whose forehead creased, his eyes turning lifeless as he turned around and followed Connor to wherever it was he was heading to.
Practice was good and you were right; you managed to pull off the stunt earning you praise from the coach, letting you know that if you keep up the good work you will be the best cheerleader Mystic Falls ever had. You hated saying it but you lived off of praise. Was there a better feeling than being seen for your hard work and determination? Not really, but that was your opinion. You headed towards the locker room, your red cheer uniform starting to slowly take up some of the sweat from practice. It was late. Everyone went home instead of you. You wanted to perfect the new choreography and stayed long after practice ended. So when you entered the locker room it was dead silent. The squeaking of the locker made you flinch as you placed your water bottle into the side pocket of your bag. You were about to take out your bag to change when you heard the sound of droplets hitting the floor. Wet drops. Only then had you noticed that your feet were also wet. And it wasn’t sweat…it was too much for it to be just that… When you looked up to where the sound was coming from you froze. Staring up at the ceiling just above the lockers, the body of Connor hung from the wall. Broken arms and legs that were twisted inhumane. His intestines spilling from his torso, head hanging from his neck like it was about to fall off. His blood was dripping onto your locker, the smell of blood prominent and not something that could be ignored. As you stared up at him, taking in his lifeless body, a faint smile spread across your lips as you thought back on the scene earlier in the hallway.
‘You like my surprise?’ A voice sounded from behind you and you knew exactly who it was so you didn’t bother to turn around, too fascinated by the body hanging like a spider.
‘You did this?’
You heard his footsteps come closer, his heavy footsteps giving away his exact location whenever he moved, so much that after a few seconds you knew that he was standing right behind you, him too staring at the body.
‘I didn’t like how he talked to you or his lack of respect, his entitlement.’
You rubbed your lips against each other, turning around to slap Klaus across the face, feeling a painful sting across the palm of your hand, grabbing a handful of his shirt and getting up on the bench looking down at him. Vertical wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, his eyes bigger than before. Fear. Fear that he had fucked up the last chance he had of being with you. Scared that you would never ever look at him again. Fear that he had lost you before he even had you.
You took your finger and slowly dragged it across his face, pulling down his bottom lips as you stared at him. ‘That is the most fucked up thing anyone has ever done for me,’ you stared into his eyes that were still wide, your lack of transparency making him feel sick. ‘That’s so hot.’ You dragged out, taking that fistful of his shirt and crashing your lips onto him, your hands roaming his hair, tugging as you felt him against you. His tongue running across your bottom lip, tasting what he had craved for so long. He continued to place wet kisses down your cleavage, continuing to kiss your legs, holding onto your ankle as he came face-to-face with the blood on your foot. Looking up through his lashes he saw you wipe away a single tear, inhaling the scent of blood before dragging his tongue across the top of your foot, licking the sweet taste of blood. Coming back up to kiss you again, you could feel his hot breath ricochet off your cheeks, his growling making your cunt ache from between your legs as he continued to kiss you.
‘I thought you hated violence.’ He breathed, allowing you to catch your breath.
‘I was wrong.’
‘Does that mean—‘
‘Shut up and kiss me.’
Klaus had never shut up so quickly, pressing his body against yours wanting to be one with you. Ripping off his shirt you felt him against your skin. His fingers curled around the hem of your panties, dragging them down your legs. You curled the finger around your top, ready to take it off but Klaus’ hands shot up to hold them still. ‘Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.’
You suppress a moan as he lowered his head underneath your skirt, feeling his breath on the inside of your thighs, already making your legs tremble. You let out a quiet yelp as you felt his tongue licked your slit, closing his lips around your clit as he started to swirl his tongue around your cunt, sending vibrations through your stomach as you moaned. ‘Fuck,’ your hands grabbed his hair, trying to give yourself some stability. Klaus noticed your legs growing weaker. He picked you up with your legs over his shoulders and laid you down on the blood covered floor, feeling the blood go up your ass. Klaus continued to suck on your clit, concealed groans vibrating against your cunt, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as his tongue focused on your most sensitive spot. You could feel your thighs go numb from holding them up. Your breath becoming shorter the more Klaus dragged his tongue across your cunt, collecting your juices, making you realise you were about to come. You felt your muscles contract, your legs starting to shake as the knot tightened faster than it had ever before.
‘Fuck,’ you pressed air past your lips, ‘please don’t stop.’
Close to coming, Klaus gave one last suck before you felt your stomach explode, squirming underneath him as he continued to flick his tongue over your sensitive clit, making your body shudder with aftershocks.
‘Fuck Klaus, fuck fuck fuck.’
You felt Klaus press a kiss on your cunt before coming out from underneath your skirt, catching your lips so you could taste yoursef.
‘You like this don’t you?’
You nodded.
‘You like the way I touch you?’
You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt again.
‘Stop,’ you breathed, stopping his hand trailing down to your cunt that had craved his touch the moment he stared into your eyes. ‘Let me,’ You slowly dropped to your knees, blood staining them s you reached for his trousers, starting to unbuckle his belt, your fingers slipping off the buckle.
‘What are you doing?’ Klaus let out a suppressed smile, his head hanging low to see your hands undoing his belt, your lips caught between your teeth.
‘I want this.’
‘My cock?’
‘Yes.’ Another deep breath.
‘I thought you hadn't done this before?’
‘I haven’t.’ Having undone his buckle and strap, you grabbed his front pockets and pulled down the rough fabric, the bulge beneath his boxer meeting your eyes, a warm heat spreading through your legs. ‘But how do you know that?’
‘Watching you is my favourite pastime.’
‘You’re fucked up…’
‘So are you, love.’
Taking a gulp, you pulled down his boxers to release his cock that sprang against his stomach. Your breath caught your throat. It’s big. Klaus could feel his pre-cum pumping through him just thinking of your innocent lips tucked around the head of his tip. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you, knowing that his size would make it hard to breathe. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre-cum. You grabbed his thick pulsing length, a groan leaving his throat as your fingers wrapped around him. You leaned over, carefully licking his tip, slowly building your way to sucking on his head, spitting on it as you wet his pink cock.
‘Fuck,’ Klaus hissed, his dirty blond curls falling back as his hand tangled itself in your hair.
You gagged on his size, but you refused to let go of him, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he gently started thrust in and out, not wanting to hurt you.
‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.
His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum dribbled from between your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his pink lips. The slight sound of you gagging letting his moans increase in sound.
‘Such a pretty face. Look at you.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Your first time having a cock down your throat and you’re doing so well.’
A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you were so turned on. You needed him. You need him inside of you soon. Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Klaus tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing length, earning a huffed moan. You continue stroking him, your hand gliding along his shaft, your own arousal starring to grow
‘You’re so fucking good at taking my cock,’ he thrusted in and out of my aching mouth. ‘Your first time and you already know how to send me over the edge.’
He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe. You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it. Your lips and throat we’re starting to turn numb, every thrust releasing a tear, every salty tear mixing with the shaft.
‘Look at me,’
Your eyes shot up and stared into his.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth; hot jets hitting the back of your throat. ‘Be a doll and swallow.’ He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heavy—you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, stroking your cheeks as he stared at you with sparks in his eyes. ‘You did so well, my love.’
Carefully grabbing you by your throat, Klaus pulled you up and swiftly turned you around, his hard cock pressing up against your firm ass as his hands glided over your tits, smearing the blood across your uniform and cleavage; drops of blood running down your chest as you placed your arms behind your head as Klaus started to place kisses again the thin skin on your neck, gently sucking on it, making the hairs on your body stand up.
‘God, you’re so fucking hot.’
You hummed in response, his mouth on your neck making it hard to concentrate.
Klaus brushed the tip of his cock against your slit, teasing you as his moved it along your cunt, adoring the way you whimpered at his slightest touch.
‘I thought you were a gentleman and wouldn’t fuck a girl so shortly after the first dinner.’
‘I’m not a gentleman tonight, my love. You make it hard to control myself,’ Klaus whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine that stopped before it reached your toes as he thrusted into your core making you shout out.
‘Oh my god, Klaus. Fuck you feel so fucking good.’
His cock stretched out the walls of your cunt that welcomed him, each thrust slowly adjusting to his size. His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving trails of dark marks. Hickeys or blood, it was hard to tell. You could feel the blood slowly dry out on your skin, but new blood spread across your body as Connor’s blood continued to seep out of him, letting you and Klaus be covered in his surprise. He began to pump his cock out of you with pace. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more. Throwing your head back onto his chest as one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your waist.
‘Not satisfied darling?' He smirked against your skin, picking up pace as he pounded into you. Your tits moving with every thrust, the sound of skin filling the locker room.
‘You're so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck. 'It's like you were made to take my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good girl you are. Who would’ve thought you were so sick and twisted?’ You felt a new bundle tighten in your stomach. ‘Fucking in a school locker room covered in blood. God made me immortal because you are my match. Fuck, you feel so good.’
Those words felt like fireworks exploding inside of your gut.
‘Shit!’ You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum. Klaus stayed inside of you for a few seconds, breathing heavily as a sweat pearl rolled down his forehead, holding you tight in case your legs were to give in.
‘Your body was made for me.’ He huffed. Klaus slid his cock out of you, staring at you, slowly lowering you to the red messy floor, setting you down before laying down next to you, holding his head up with the palm of his hand.
You took a few seconds to breathe, catching your breath as your high started to fade, catching a glimpse of the body up high. ‘You can’t leave that there. I’ve got class at seven in the morning.’ You mused, gazing at Klaus who had blood spread across his chest. He looked so hot you could fuck him again.
‘Don’t worry, love,’ he reached for the bag behind him. ‘I know how to clean up messes. I’ve done this for over a thousand years.’ He placed a cigarette between lips, pulling out a lighter and taking a drag of the hot smoke. He truly was irresistible.
‘Have you killed a lot of people?’
‘Yes.’
You grabbed a knife that laid behind your back, the knife Klaus probably used to cut certain parts of Connor. ‘Would you kill me?’
Klaus took another drag over the cigarette, the smoke making his voice sound deeper than it was. ‘No.’ He shook his head.
‘Would you kill for me?’
Klaus stared up at Connor pointing at him, ‘You have to ask?’
‘There’s this guy, Dean Gabriel. He took away the only person I ever loved.’ You said, staring at the knife, feeling Klaus prop himself up. ‘He violated my sister. Made her feel disgusted, defiled her without her consent. She took her own life because that man ruined her life in twenty minutes. And whilst she is no longer here, he gets to roam around like nothing happened…’
Klaus leaned forward, his voice sounding huskier, ‘Just tell me where he is and he won’t see any more sunrises after I find him.’
Gazing at the knife, you swung your leg over Klaus to straddle him.
‘Promise me he’ll suffer.’ A tear fell down the apple of your cheeks, ‘I want it to be painful.’
‘I promise.’
You lowered yourself to kiss him, your tears mixing with the blood on your face as your heart was finally lighter than it had been for a while. All because of a surprise you enjoyed more than he had anticipated.
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doromoni · 14 days
Text
Off Track Pace | MV1 , ?
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Ships Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader , ? x presenter! Reader , Platonic! Charles Leclerc x presenter! Reader
Genre : Fluff , Angst
Sub tags : mutual pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late,
Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?
Face claim: Sofia Wylie
A/N : I’m so sorry luvs! I’m working on updating Clash of Champions , i promise ~ it’s my uni’s finals exams so I gotta focus on that first… so here’s a peace offering.
Media day, usually on a Thursday — a day that most Formula 1 drivers dread. A day where cameras followed their every move, interviews with journalists that twisted their every word and silly PR stunts forced on them by their teams. It used to be just all racing and winning podiums, but modern Formula 1 is all about media politics and sponsorships.
If you were to ask any driver on the grid if they were given the chance not to do PR, they would say yes to skipping it. But not everything about media day is horrendous.
Not when a new motorsports journalist joins the paddock that was an absolute sweetheart and delight to have around. A natural on the job — she always made sure that every driver that she interviewed was comfortable and enjoying their time with her and the segment.
the.Y/N
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liked by skysportsf1 , lissiemackintosh, f1 , and 689,270 others
the.Y/N first day on the job? . i’m not nervous, you are! (She said literally shaking)
skysportsf1 Welcome to the team Y/N! ❤️
the.Y/N thank you kind employers. 🤍
lissiemackintosh Babe!! It’s finally official. Congratulations!
the.Y/N Thanks to you Babe!! I swear I would’ve been lost without you 😭
User1 who is she?
the.Y/N literally no one
User2 Ohhhh a new commentator? 🤔
User3 maybe she’s a journalist?
scuderriaferrari the kids had fun. They want their clay statues on display!
User2 Clay statues?? Hello?? Wut?
User3 Same question, Clay statues??
the.Y/N wait and see 🤷‍♀️ , the interview would drop tomorrow? Maybe~
User4 Its her first day and she literally had an interview with Charles and Carlos in Ferrari???
the.Y/N well no , the first interview was with Lewis Hamilton … so. 🤭
User5 WHAT?? Ok , queen slay!
User4 damnn , imagine being new to your field and already interviewing the big guys.
mclaren Do us next please 🙋‍♂️
redbullracing get in line!
the.Y/N gotta stop by Aston first , sorry besties.
User6 OK WHAT IS HAPPENING, ms. Y/N who are your connections 😭 i want in.
User7 why are all the teams here??
Y/N L/N was the F1 presenter and journalist who put drivers willingly out of their comfort zones and made them try something new. You genuinely loved what you do and you were passionate about it. You never showed partiality among the drivers, you treated everyone with the same attitude — this earned the respect of all drivers on the grid.
You were quickly becoming a paddock favorite. The fans enjoyed the content you put out and the drivers looked forward to your interview when they saw your name on their schedule.
Interviewing with you usually meant cheat meals and unusual activities that you thought they would like.
the.Y/N
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 740,155 others
the.Y/N maybe bowling isn’t the best idea. @charles_leclerc you suck, ngl. New vid out on Monday at the sky sports channel🤍
charles_leclerc i hate you ❤️
the.Y/N no you don’t 😌
charles_leclerc no, i don’t
User1 I love their dynamic so much!! I need more of the Paddock siblings pleaseee
User2 I can’t wait for more of Y/N bullying Charles into weird things and Ferrari doing nothing about it🤣
landonorris but why is charles in a cowboy costume?
the.Y/N i dunno? He just showed up in that 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc You told me we were riding horses and you wanted me to wear smth cowboy!!
the.Y/N oh yeah! Lmao
landonorris should i feel bad?
the.Y/N Nope. He’s happy either way. Aren’t you @charles_leclerc?
User2 NOT THE LMAO . Y/N thank you being you
User3 Y/N giving us Cowboy Charles , yes ma’am
User3 JUST DATE ALREADY!
the.Y/N EW. No
charles_leclerc Ok , the ew was unnecessary. But same. No thanks :)) i’m not dating my sister .
User4 Charles call y/n his sister 🥺
However, No matter how much you tried to keep things professional by being just a driver: journalist, something your boss commented during a quick meeting because fans kept shipping you with every driver. What you found weird is that most drivers you see as older brothers and some even uncles (don’t tell Nando). Plus most of them had girlfriends!
Nevertheless, your relationship with them seems to always end up with them hanging around your office at Sky, whenever they are free. Even the older drivers like Nando, Lewis and even Nico and Kevin use your office as an escape from the chaos of their motorhomes.
You didn’t mind hosting the older drivers in your room, as they were usually tame and kept to themselves as they read the books on your shelves in peace. They usually plop themselves down your couch and place the oversized plush you always bring on their lap. They always brought you snacks, so you looked forward to the times when their heads popped in your door and asked if they could come in.
But when the younger drivers visit your office? And if they came in groups — which they usually do. Oh boy, it was either a clusterfuck of them stealing snacks from your secret stash or your office becoming a den for hot gossip in the paddock usually led by the one and only Charles Leclerc.
Case in point. You now have Charles, Carlos, Max and to your surprise Checo in your office. The older Spanish-speaking driver was a rare visitor, but a welcome one nonetheless.
But considering the topic in discussion, you understood the presence of the two Red Bull drivers.
You were in the middle of typing away on your laptop when suddenly they barged in with ice cream tubs and spoons at hand then found a spot to sit and made themselves comfortable.
“Is Newey leaving Red Bull?” Charles asked Max and Checo, as he scooped a bite from his ice cream.
“We have no clue! Christian is saying nothing to us. Nothing” Max exclaimed exasperated as Checo nodded in agreement.
“So Adrian Newey is moving to Ferrari?” You questioned as you pointed your spoon at Charles
“Y/N, I love you like a sister and I know that you’re incredibly smart, but sometimes you are stupid. We’re clueless in Ferrari, hence my question ”
You threw your wooden spoon at the Monaco-born Ferrari driver. Which he easily avoided thanks to his fast reflexes. Freaking f1 reflexes!
“ I wasn't the person who got named for being stupid— HEY! Max give that back!! You don't even like salted caramel” You were trying to rebut Charles’ insult but were distracted when Max took your ice cream for himself.
Max just shrugged and placed his half-consumed chocolate brownie fudge ice cream in your hands — his spoon still in it. You didn’t complain further as you took his spoon and took a bite yourself. Yum! Brownie fudge is your favorite.
“Dude, what is even going on inside Red Bull? What was Horner under investigation for?” Carlos pressed on, trying to find answers. You were curious yourself
“Everyone is being weird. They’re keeping things from us. “ Checo added. You knew that they were truly left in the dark because if they knew they would’ve spilled instantly. NDAs be damned.
“Every interview, people keep asking if we know something! one more journalist and I swear I’ll run them over with my car! I hate each one of them” Max grumbled to himself.
You coughed. You knew that you were an exception but you couldn’t help but mess around with your friends.
“Don’t even, Y/N. You know you don’t count. “ Max waved you off.
“Wow! Thank you for that babe. Way to make a girl feel special” you said jokingly to the Dutch driver, as you winked dramatically. To which he only rolled his eyes — making you and the rest of the drivers laugh.
Max was immune to your flirting, unfortunately. It sucked especially when you had a tiny …. Ok big … HUGE crush on the 3 time world champion.
Max to you was like an Older brother’s best friend — Where you were the little sister crushing on him and you didn’t have a chance. You knew that like the other drivers, he just saw you as a little sister. But still you couldn’t help but fall the star driver of Red Bull.
Everything started when you brought your niece to the paddock because your sister had an emergency. You were scheduled to interview Checo in the RB motorhome and your niece was starting to feel fussy and you were slightly panicking on what to do— when Max suddenly came to your rescue and took your niece out to ice cream.
You admit you found Max attractive even before— like so damn attractive, but that was it— nothing more. But when you found Max carrying your niece in his arms as they played inside his garage, you knew that you were a goner to the charms of Max Verstappen.
You have been pinning for Max for a year now. You wished that you had the confidence and courage to just confess. But the fear of rejection freighted you, so you settled to just keep your friendship with the devastatingly handsome Red Bull champion.
As time went on, and nothing but friendship between you and Max developed — You’ve come to terms with the process of letting go of your feelings. Even when you’ve already met his mom and sister, hung out in his yacht and spent nights over his place when movie nights with Charles and his girlfriend went too late. You knew not to think anything of it.
And you were right to think nothing of it. Because not a week later, rumors had spread all over the paddock that Kelly Piquet had set her eyes on Max. You didn’t believe it at first, but when you saw with your own two eyes them engaged talking happily in his garage. The sparkle in Max’s eyes had solidified your will to move on.
A few weeks had passed and Kelly’s presence was constant in the paddock. Everyone had speculated that she had become Max’s girlfriend. But no one was sure, not even you — Max had been silent about it.
You tried to be happy for them you did. But you can’t blame yourself for wishing that it was you instead. Even to this day, you are still trying to forget and bury your feelings for Max.
“Y/N? Y/N? Oi Y/N” You suddenly were startled out of your thoughts. You forgot that you were still with the drivers in your office.
“What? Sorry, I just remembered something. What did you say?” You asked Charles as he was the one who called you.
“I asked if you had an interview today” Upon hearing the words of the Monegasque, your eyes grew wide as you remembered that you did have a job to do and you were indeed almost late.
“SHIT! I DO I’m late! “ You suddenly sprang up from your seat and quickly gathered the things you needed — while the 4 drivers looked at you with amusement.
“Who’s scheduled for you today, Y/N?” Max had also sat up from his seat and gave you an opened bottle of water.
You received the bottle from Max. You didn’t have to thank the driver — just one look from you and he knew.
The other drivers looked amongst themselves as they saw your exchange with Max. Everyone had a knowing look on their faces.
“I'm going to Mclaren today! I have the whole day with Lando. “ You said as you closed your once abandoned laptop and placed it in your bag — the one Max gave you on your birthday.
“What have you planned for Lando, Y/N?” Checo asked curiously. He still remembered his interview where you both made bracelets and stuffed toys for his daughters — his daughters loved it and went to sleep with it every single day.
“Oh! I’m taking Lando to a rage room, then drive-thru for food.” You explained happily to the older Mexican driver.
“Which part of that is the interview?” Charles had interjected
“While we eat the food in the parking lot, duh,” You said as if they should’ve already known. Well, they should by now.
“You know Y/N, Lando likes you right? ” Carlos had suddenly dropped a bomb on you. You didn’t expect it at all.
“What?” Max had suddenly said — catching all of you off guard. You didn’t understand, why Max had reacted so suddenly. But you pushed that aside for now as you continued to stuff everything you need in the bag
“What do you mean, Lando likes me?” You asked Carlos, with your eyebrows scrunched together.
“He likes you. Like you know? Take you out on dates and all that” Carlos replied as he gauged your reaction.
“Ohhhh, that’s cute! how did you even know about it, Carlos” you asked not taking any of it seriously.
“Cute?” You heard Max muttered under his breath.
“He told me. I won’t spoil anything else. I’m not even supposed to say that he likes you, but oh well.” Carlos shrugged as he finished off his ice cream.
“What do you think about Lando?” Charles suddenly asked you. The Ferrari driver leaned forward
“Will you date him if he asks you ?” Checo then joined the conversation.
“ You should say yes, I mean you two are the same-“ Charles had suddenly grown excited.
“Ok whoa, calm down dads. He hasn’t asked anything yet! “ you exclaimed
“But will you say yes if he asked?” Max then asked you, his eyes piercing your soul. After all of the other questions, Max was the one to Catch you off guard.
“Uh yes, I guess? I mean, why not? Lando is fun And he is single right … ” You were panicking so you said yes, even when you knew that you weren’t ready for anything like that since you still held feelings for Max.
“ YES! I thought that you-“ Charles wasn't able to finish his sentence when you cut him off.
“OK, bye guys! See you later. I need to go!” And just like that you were gone, leaving the four drivers in your office — not letting them question you further.
“I swear, that kid is weird.” Charles shakes his head from side to side at your actions.
“Lando likes Y/N?” Max had asked again just to make sure that he had heard the Spaniard correctly.
“ Lando is a good kid. They’ll make a good couple, no?” Checo asked no one in particular, as Max was not moving from where you left him.
“Wait, wait… since when did Lando like Y/N?” Max asked confused, looking green with jealousy. Fingers tingling as they clenched on itself
“Well he was interested in Y/N since the beginning but he backed off since everyone thought that you two had a thing” Carlos explained as he stood up and went to raid your snack stash.
“Yeah, but now you’re with the daughter of Piquet. what’s her name again? KELLY! yes, kelly. So Lando is taking his shot” Charles added
“You knew? Charles, you knew about Lando?” Max was aghast at the knowledge that was just receiving now.
“Well yeah? I was the one to encourage him to ask Y/N out. ” Charles shrugged nonchalantly. He knew about your feelings for the Red Bull driver, but he also saw how hurt you were when Max started seeing Kelly out of nowhere. Charles wanted to help his friends — specially the ones that he grew to love like his own sibling in any way that he could. Plus it was time for Y/N to have fun, and Lando Norris is exactly that.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Max was conflicted. His emotions growing uncontrollably by the second.
“ Mate, we haven’t seen you for how many weeks! You were always out with your new girlfriend. Even Y/N had no contact with you “ Carlos explained to Max.
silence filled the room, when suddenly pings of notifications sounded all over the rooms.
And Charles couldn’t help but whistle.
“Well he sure does move past” he had added.
Your story
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As Max looked at his phone. Your Ig story flashed. His heart had started to hurt and the feeling of a pit in his stomach grew. it was as if someone punched him right in the gut.
And another notification ping had popped . And it only made Max’s stomach churn even further.
landonorris
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
feeling generous
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dubcon!!, blackmail!!, blowjob, cum eating???, voyeurism, public sex, car crash but like its in a parking lot lol, pogue!/broke!reader
“shit, shit, shit.” you groan, quickly putting the car into drive and moving a few feet, cringing when you hear the crunch of metal coming undone. you throw the car into park and hop out to see your worst fears actualized.
“are you fucking blind?” the shout makes you jump. you didn't even realize that the owner of the car was sat in the driver's seat.
“im-im so so sorry.” you shake your head quickly, surveying the damage. you caught their back bumper with your own, the red paint from their car flaking onto your silver one. “i-i didn't see how close-”
“no shit you didn't see! jesus fucking christ, do you know how expensive this car is?” he shouts, standing to his full height and slamming the car door closed. you don't know how much the car is, but judging by the look of it and the man driving it, certainly not cheap. “this is a custom paint job too.” 
he places his hands on his hips, eyes shifting between glaring at the ruined back end of his car and you.
“insurance and id. now.” he huffs out. “before i call the cops.”
your eyes widen. you have the minimum required insurance, and even that payment is killing you, there's no way you'll be able to afford it if you get an increase for a crash.
“can i pay you out of pocket?” you offer, clearing your throat, trying to keep a level head.
“no way you're able to afford it.” his eyes turn towards your car. it's old, a junker, but gets you around fine enough. and best part, it was free, a hand me down after your grandma bought a newer car.
“i-i probably cant, but i can't afford the insurance increase either and i- we can work something out. please.” you don't care how pathetic it is, you'll get down on your knees in the parking lot if you have to. you're not beyond begging and pleading.
he looks you up and down before grunting, heading back towards his car. your feet spring into action, grabbing onto his wrist, not wanting him to reach for his phone.
“no, please, sir-”
“rafe.” he says, hand twisting so now he's the one holding your wrist. “my name is rafe.”
“oh.” you blink up at him before responding. “my name is y/n”
“you shouldn't have told me.” rafe holds his hand up. “in case i change my mind. you're lucky im feeling generous today.”
“oh my god, thank you so much!” you feel tears well up in your eyes.
��don't thank me yet, darling.” his gaze turns dark as he looks down at you, only now realizing how tall he is, how he towers over you.
“what do you mean?” you question.
rafe takes your hand gripped tightly in his fist, turning it and bringing it down to place it on his crotch. your eyes widen when he moves your fingers back and forth over his shorts, stroking along your length.
“i- what are you doing?” you try to pull your hand away, but he's holding on too tightly.
“it's either this or we can get insurance involved.” rafe looks at you, the shiny lip gloss smeared over your mouth. you may be a broke pogue, but your mouth should be good enough to please him, to ease some of the tension from getting his car hit.
“im not a prostitute.” you say, certainly not meaning this when offering to work something out.
“yet you're gonna get on your knees and suck me off. or i call the cops.”
“right here?” you look around the parking lot. it's pretty empty, but it's the middle of the day, the sun shining down on you, making the illicit act obvious to anyone who looks between where your two cars are parked.
“yeah.” he shrugs, pressing your hand harder into his crotch. he's obviously hard, seemingly almost painfully so.
you look back to the damage, the cherry red color that you're sure isn't stock, and then sink down to your knees. rafe smirks down at you as he drops his hand away from your wrist, light purple bruises already forming.
you gulp and resolve yourself to what you're about to do, tugging at his zipper before undoing the button on his shorts. you open up the flaps, eyes widening when you take in his length through his underwear.
rafe chuckles before pushing the elastic down to pull his cock out, exposing it to the warm summer air.
“suck.” he simply commands.
you open your mouth, taking an experimental lick at his tip, surprised that the taste isn't completely repulsive. you lick again before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.
“come on.” he spurs you on. “do it good or ill cum in your mouth and still make you pay.”
the threat has you moving quickly, sinking down onto his cock, closing your eyes so you don't have to see rafe looking down at you. he may be attractive, but you're still getting forced to do this. 
“ahh, that's good.” he groans as you set a quick pace, bobbing your head up and down. you pray no one pulls into this part of the parking lot or looks your way. you'd be absolutely mortified to be seen on your knees for a man in the middle of the day, not even going into his car to suck him off.
rafes hands grip your hair, pulling them into two makeshift pigtails.
he lets you stay in control for a while longer before he gets sick of you sucking him off however you please. he shoves his hips forward, causing you to gag when his cock buries deep in your throat.
rafe doesn't give you time to recover, thrusting while holding your head still by the hair, tears now streaming down your eyes as he pushes in then out, in then out.
“fuck, you're actually good.” rafe chuckles. just his luck the dumb bitch who hit his car gives good head, your throat tightening as you swallow around him with every thrust.
you feel the combination of drool and tears drip down your chin, hoping rafe cums soon so this can end.
you place your hands on his thighs as your knees dig into the pavement. your jeans are going to be completely ruined by the time rafe is done with you, but at least you'll have money to buy a new pair.
you feel rafes cock swell in your mouth, your eyes widening to look up at him, the sun behind his head, illuminating him in a perfect halo, but he's no angel.
rafe pulls his cock out before he can cum. you stick your tongue out, knowing exactly what to expect as rafe strokes himself quickly, moaning as if he doesn't care about being seen as his cock shoots out ropes of white cum onto your face and awaiting tongue.
he taps the tip against your tongue, smearing it through the mess of white. “kiss it.”
it's humiliating, but not any more than what just happened. you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the tip of his cock, seeing that it's already beginning to soften.
rafe tucks his cock back in as you pant on the ground, hands coming to your thighs as you try to gain composure.
“hey.” rafes voice has you looking back up, your eyes widening when you see he's got his phone now, taking a picture of your disheveled state, face still covered in his cum.
“what was that for?” you shout.
“part of your repayment in case you ever try to go back on our agreement.” you understand what rafe means. in case you try to tell anyone he forced you into it.
rafe smiles when the look of acceptance sinks into your features as you resign to your fate. he bends down, looking you in the eye before his tongue presses against your jaw, dragging up your cheek, tracing the trail of your tears, not caring that he also tastes his own cum on his tongue. 
“see you around.” he smirks, swallowing your tears dramatically as he gets into his car, speeding away before you even get your knees off the ground.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeyisthelastname @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut
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hoseoksluna · 3 months
Text
— WIP 𐙚 part 4 of wine
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader
about: the first time jungkook owns oc’s orgasm
word count: 0.417
note: because i started writing part four so late in the week (friday and i barely had time during this weekend to write) due to the fact i struggled hard, here i give you at least a little something on updating day. im really sorry its not the full thing yet, but i promise i'm working hard and i'll post it for you sometime next week. i'm really excited about what i've written and i can't wait to show you. please enjoy the little excerpt && keep your fingers crossed for me. love you all <;3
side note: happy belated birthday to my husband yoongi, the poetry to my words, the sanity to my mind. my anchor, my everything. i miss him terribly and i love him.
warnings: clit rubbing, shyness, riding fingers, jungkook penetrates her mid-climax and has a very tender reason for it
𐙚
He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 
A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 
Jungkook sees you. 
“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 
“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.  
“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 
Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re really not sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 
When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—
“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.
“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 
He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 
And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.
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bitchlessdino · 9 months
Note
I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.
so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.
until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say
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Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun
“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”
You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”
The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”
“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”
“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”
“I’m hearing a no…”
“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”
“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”
“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”
Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”
“What makes you roommate of the year?”
You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”
Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”
“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”
“The buttons and colors confuse me.”
“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”
“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.
“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.
“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”
Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”
You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”
You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).
But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.
And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.
The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?
“A few ground rules should be in order.”
Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”
“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”
“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”
You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”
Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”
“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”
His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”
“Why are you doubting me?”
He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“
“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”
His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”
“Okay. Have at it.”
He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”
You nodded, easy enough.
“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”
Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”
“And we have a safe word.”
You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”
“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”
You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”
“…Tiger.”
“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”
“Because we’re good friends.”
“How about ‘hamster’?”
He frowned. “No.”
“But look how effective that was.”
For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.
The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.
Even to you. Surprising enough.
If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 
The damn pull up bar.
You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—
“Oh, early class?”
“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 
His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”
“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”
“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.
“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”
“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”
You squinted at him, “Why?”
“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”
Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.
So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.
One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.
“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”
“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.
He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”
You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”
He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”
“Fineee…”
Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.
“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.
You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”
You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”
“Soonyoung…”
“Please, just do it.”
Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”
He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”
“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.
“Sorry.”
He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”
You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”
“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”
And you’re alone again.
You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.
You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 
Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.
Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.
But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.
Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”
You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”
“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.
“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“
“You’re gonna make me cum—“
“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“
“Shit—“
“Shit—“
Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.
Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.
The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.
“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.
“Soonyoung—“
“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”
An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.
He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 
He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.
“Wake up.”
Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”
It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”
Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.
“Plans today?” You asked.
He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”
The silence couldn’t be more deafening.
“You.”
“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.
The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?
After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?
You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 
When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.
Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”
“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”
“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”
“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”
“Alright.”
“Did you need something?”
“Hmm?”
You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”
“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”
Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”
“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”
He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“
“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”
“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“
“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”
You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“
“You knew I was masturbating?”
“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”
“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”
You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”
“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”
Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”
Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”
“Soonyoung—“
“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“
You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 
“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”
Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.
“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.
“Shut up,” you mumbled.
“May I remind you, you kissed me.”
“And I can back out right this second.”
“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”
“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”
He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”
Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he was you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he would just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.
Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to yours, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”
“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”
You nodded. “Good boy.”
He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.
You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”
“Soonyoung…”
He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”
“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.
“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”
“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.
“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”
Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 
You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”
“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”
“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.
“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”
You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 
Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.
That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”
You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”
He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”
Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—
“Put it in me.”
“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.
“Soonyoung,” You whined.
Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”
His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”
“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”
“Fuck, say my name like that again.”
He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 
“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”
“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”
You bit into his cheeks nodding, in the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 
Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.
And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.
“I’m glad I waited for that.”
You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”
He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”
“Really?”
He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”
Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”
That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.
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notjustjavierpena · 2 months
Text
Tension
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Back in November, I posted a fic where @nerdieforpedro wrote a comment in their tags that said ‘I need you to crack my back, sir’. This is stupid but it stuck with me, so here you go. I suppose it’s also my own way of saying that I see everything you all write about my stuff. I love y’all.
Summary: Your husband cracks your back when you come home from work. Also, you are trying for a baby.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, back-cracking, massages, a good girl, fingering, dirty talk, hard and fast piv sex, javier whimpering is its own warning, clit stim, breeding kink, creampie, they’re in loooove
Word count: 2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54705589
Tension
You drag yourself into the living room where Javier is currently napping on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and chin pointing downward. He looks peaceful but the tension in your back is enough to disturb him from his slumber and not feel bad about it.
You bend down over him, gently shaking him.
“Javi,” you call softly. It takes you three tries before he stirs, opening his eyes with a little confusion as he tries to figure out where he is. 
“What is it, baby?” His voice is slightly raspy from sleep. You smile apologetically.
“I need you to crack my back,” you say. 
You don’t know how it happened but it feels like something is pinched, probably from an awkward position during the night or even during other activities. You have tried to relieve the tension all day by twisting your body from side to side but to no avail.
“What?” He grabs the back of the couch to pull himself into a sitting position. You take a step back.
“I think something’s… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating. I’m tense as hell,” you explain, turning your back to him to try and point to the spot that’s been aching since you got into work in the morning, “It’s right here. Between the shoulder blades.”
“Right,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply, and breaks into a yawn, “Take your top off and lie down on the floor.”
You do as he says, smiling a little to yourself as you hear the groan that he makes when getting up from the couch. Perhaps you should return the favor. You lay down on the floorboards of the apartment, flat on your stomach, face turning to the side, and your arms along your sides. 
Another grunt is heard as Javier gets down on the ground with you. He places a knee on either side of your thighs, hovering above your legs, and then he takes a hold of the hem of your pants, “Okay if I pull them down a bit? Then I can do the whole spine.”
“Go ahead.”
Javier yanks down your bottoms, turning them into something that resembles low-rise style. He then heats up his hands by rubbing them together, “How rough can I be?”
“Can’t believe we’re doing something that requires you to ask that and it isn’t sex,” you wiggle your hips a bit but then wince as pain shoots through your body again.
“Answer the fucking question,” he says with a roll of his eyes, smiling but impatient.
“Don’t hold back.”
Javier’s now-warm palms settle on your back. You sigh softly at the feeling of him touching your skin so carefully, treating you like something delicate until you feel him place one hand on top of his other to center the pressure right between your shoulders. He pushes down and you exhale sharply.
Crack.
You moan in relief. Endorphins flood your system. 
“That was so nice, baby,” you praise, “Thank you.”
“I’m not done,” Javier kisses you right where he has just relieved the tension. Then he moves down and does it again.
Another crack is heard. You curl your toes, eyes fluttering closed as another wave of feel-good hormones begins to flow through your system. 
“Good girl,” Javier compliments, and you don’t have to ask if he is smirking because it’s evident from the tone of his voice as he sees the shiver that creeps up your neck, “More?”
“Please.”
So he does it again.
And again.
And again.
Until you feel like putty underneath his touch. You want to say something but with each skim of his fingers, each rough push of his entire body’s weight, you only manage to groan in pleasure. 
Above you, Javier has gone quiet but his breathing has turned more erratic. He has switched from cracking your back to massaging your sore muscles instead, kneading along your sides whilst you reward him with small sighs and moans of satisfaction as well as gratitude. 
You shiver as he presses his thumbs into the place where your neck meets your shoulders, holding it for a while before dragging his whole palms outwards. It feels good, almost like an embrace.
He repeats the move until you feel sweat starting to break out on your skin from how warm his hands are. A moan escapes your mouth, the same kind that you usually make when he kisses your neck. 
“You like that?” He asks in a tone that you know too well. You nod. He does it again but goes closer to your neck this time, fingers skimming along your pulse point.
Something in the atmosphere shifts after that. 
Soon, he descends on your body, going achingly slow as he searches out his goal. He ends up digging two thumbs into the very top of your ass. He isn’t downright groping you but there’s a hesitation each time he pushes into the plump flesh there. Teasingly, you push up into his hands.
“You’re so sexy like this,” he mutters and you can hear him move on the floor, crawling backward so he can kiss the small of your back when he leans down. 
“With a sore back?” You snort to hide how excited this is making you, a dull ache settling between your thighs.
“In any way,” he clarifies. He doesn’t even hesitate when he starts pulling down both your pants and your underwear, and you don’t protest but instead lift your hips to help him yank them down until they sit around your ankles. 
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he dips a finger inside of you, pushing down towards your stomach to make you squirm on the floor. You whimper. He makes a come-hither motion to rub against your g-spot and you immediately move your arms forward to grab at the ground. Your cunt squelches and Javier swears again, “You’re soaked.”
“Of course, I am, was so fucking good the way you were touching me, and… I’m like a damn clock with being wet for you when I ovulate,” you moan, pushing back against his hand. He groans at the realization of what time of the month it is. He gets to put a baby in you.
His fingers work you open, teasing you towards an orgasm by doing exactly what he knows gets you there quickly. The sounds of your wetness are obscene, only getting more lewd when you come right there on the floor with your pants around your thighs. 
“Baby, shit, more,” you pant with a desperate whine, clenching around Javier’s digits as they continue rubbing against your front wall even though your orgasm has long subsided. He doesn’t relent but you don’t mind, relishing in the pressure inside of your cunt. It’s good but it’s not his cock, “Fuck me, baby. Please, I— I need you in me.”
You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone and then the shuffle of denim being pulled down. You look over your shoulder to find him with his jeans sitting around his knees, too desperate himself to get fully undressed. 
“Eyes forward,” he commands you and ignores his own desire until you do as you are told. You hold onto the floorboards with flat hands, only spreading your legs slightly to make him as tight a fit inside of you as possible. 
His whole weight crushes you so heavenly in the next moment, and his generous length sheaths itself in the warm embrace of your soaked walls with ease until he bottoms out. Your face screws up with the intensity especially because he leans down over you to groan hotly into your ear. 
“Love this little pussy,” he moans as you both adjust to being connected like this. He rests a forearm beside your head, biting into your shoulder and soothing the mark with his wet tongue. It drives you insane that he is not moving inside of you yet, and he seems to know with how he taunts you, “Want me to fuck her silly?”
“Javi,” you whimper and nod frantically, “I’ll come so good for you, milk your big cock with my pussy. Please, baby.” 
“I bet you will, mi chica sucía (my dirty girl),” he answers before giving you exactly what you want; the first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank, even moreso when he starts fucking you into the floor like an animal. 
His legs frame yours, his pelvis crashes into the plump flesh of your ass with a dirty smack each time, and he is burning hot against your back. You won’t last long with him reaching so deep inside of you, the thick head of his stiff cock sliding over your g-spot like his fingers had earlier. Each nudge makes your cunt suck him further in, and he starts panting above you with the effort he puts into fucking you. It doesn’t even occur to you that your knees are aching when he has you like this. 
“Please,” you beg without exactly knowing what you want from him; everything he is giving you has you dizzy with lust. You tense up as your orgasm approaches with rapid motions, and he goes even harder now that you don’t fly forwards with the slamming of his body into yours, “Gonna come— I’m… oh, I’m coming, fuck, baby, I’m coming!”
“I can feel you,” he growls and barely moves inside of you anymore, having replaced it with grinding against you to not miss a single pulse of your spasming, peaking cunt. You writhe underneath him, and he treats you to a messy kiss as one of his hands comes up to cup your chin so he can turn your head. 
“Come in me, please, baby, need your babies in me,” you cry against his mouth with furrowed eyebrows. He whimpers at your request, faltering in his rhythm for the first time since he started fucking you. 
“I’ll make you come so hard again, mi amor (my love), want you to spasm around my dick,” he stutters a bit when he speaks. The hand on your chin slips down your body and then underneath it too, his flat palm against your pelvis until he presses up into it to angle your hips. You stay in this new position, back arched to perfection - dopamine in your body making you forget the ache - so he can stab at your g-spot and follow it up by rubbing your needy clit with no buildup. 
The neighbors are bound to hear you screaming as you come again a minute later. The clenching shocks of pleasure are mind-altering and enough for Javier to finish alongside you, spreading his warm seed inside of you with a desperate groan. 
You both collapse with him still buried in you. Your clothes are sticky with how much you have sweated, your knees ache with reality slowly coming back, and your body feels warm and sated despite it all. 
“Let’s just lie here for a while,” you say and reach behind you to grab at him as he starts to remove himself from you, “I think this was it. I know it sounds stupid but—“
“Nothing you say sounds stupid, mi amor (my love),” he still breathes hard, brushing your hair away to kiss your neck, “Love making babies with you.” 
You make a noise of agreement. Then you rest your cheek against the floor whilst he nibbles on your neck, humming softly at the feeling of it combined with the lingering pressure of him in your cunt when he finally slips out. 
“Te quiero tanto (I love you so much),” you say with closed eyes and a satisfied smile. 
“Love you too, baby,” he says back and you can hear the smile in his voice. 
.
.
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thewulf · 2 months
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Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here
A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
TW: Yelling, intentional hurt
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It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.
It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.
When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.
When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.
“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.
Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.
You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.
But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?
He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.
You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.
Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"
"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.
His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.
You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.
He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.
Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”
It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.
Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”
You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”
Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.
Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.
As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.
The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."
There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.
"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."
Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.
"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.
For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other
His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."
You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.
As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."
His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."
But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.
He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself.  He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.
He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.
But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.
And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.
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