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#anyway no one reads this anyway so yes this is mostly a call out to bp lmaooooo
manicpixiefelix · 1 day
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love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.
Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.
Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.
Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.
A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀
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It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.
Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.
"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."
In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.
The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.
Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.
So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.
A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.
And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.
The first step is submission.
All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.
So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.
Praise.
It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.
Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.
"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.
Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.
And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.
Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.
The second step is acceptance.
Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.
Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.
All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.
Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.
Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.
"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.
"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.
Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.
He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.
When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.
"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.
"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.
So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.
It doesn't take long.
One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -
"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"
You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -
"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.
"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"
"I don't think of you as my dog!"
"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."
It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.
Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.
"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.
"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.
"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."
"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.
"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"
When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.
"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"
This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -
"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."
"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.
"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."
"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.
"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.
"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.
"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.
"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."
Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.
"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.
"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.
"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.
You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.
But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.
"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.
He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.
Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.
While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.
"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.
He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.
"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.
"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.
"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.
"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.
Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.
The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.
After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.
Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.
Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.
So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.
But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.
He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.
"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.
"Thanks, it's Ollie's."
"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.
Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.
Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.
In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.
"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.
"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.
The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -
"Good dog."
But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.
On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.
Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.
But he does, of course.
There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.
Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.
Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.
"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.
"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.
"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."
"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."
Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.
"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.
"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.
"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.
Not that Oliver actually minds.
Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.
When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.
Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.
"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."
Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.
"Ollie, what are you -"
"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.
"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.
Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.
"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.
"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.
"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."
"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.
"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.
"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."
"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.
"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.
"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.
"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.
"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.
Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.
"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.
Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -
"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.
"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.
"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.
Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.
"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.
"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."
Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.
"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.
"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.
A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.
And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.
"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.
Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -
"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.
"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.
"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.
Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.
So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.
"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.
You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.
Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.
"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.
"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.
"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"
"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.
"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.
"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.
"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.
"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.
"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.
"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.
"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.
"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.
It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.
"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.
But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."
Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.
"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."
Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.
"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"
"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -
"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."
Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.
Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.
Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.
A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.
Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.
Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.
Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.
"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.
"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.
Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.
Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.
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yanderambling · 11 months
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omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)
pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)
words: ~ 4.6k
you can read the previous part here!
CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds
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Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.
It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.
Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.
As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"
You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).
Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.
(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)
Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).
You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.
The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.
As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!
He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.
He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)
Yeah, fat chance.
When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.
...The fuck.
You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.
You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.
Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.
Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.
Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).
The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.
"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."
Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.
You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).
He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.
Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...
You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.
It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.
“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”
You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.
"We?"
Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.
He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"
You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"
Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...
"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."
As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!
You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"
Adrian can't answer fast enough.
"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"
But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.
He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.
Apparently, you’ve trained him well.
You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).
"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."
Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.
You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...
Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.
It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.
Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.
"I'm hungry."
Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.
He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.
"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"
He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)
The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.
You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.
“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”
You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.
Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.
“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”
Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,
“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”
You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”
“N-no!”
The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.
“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”
Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.
Bingo.
You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.
“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”
“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”
You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.
He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...
All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.
He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.
You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.
"Open it."
"N-no-"
You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"
"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"
"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."
That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-
But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.
Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.
Yeah, good enough.
Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.
Then you're lifting the lid.
"No!"
He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.
Fuck.
It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)
"What. The. Fuck."
"I-I can explain- It's not-!"
"I literally do not believe that you can."
Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"
You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.
But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.
They’re all you.
Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.
It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.
(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)
"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.
Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"
While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.
It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.
But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...
This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?
And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.
The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.
"Alright, shut it, stalker."
Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.
"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."
Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.
Jesus, he's shameless.
This is gonna be fun.
But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).
"Alright. Sit."
Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.
You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.
He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.
"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."
Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.
You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.
You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...
He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.
What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...
"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"
Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.
You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.
You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."
You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.
Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.
A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.
"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"
If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.
He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.
“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”
Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.
“Use your words, mutt.”
He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-
“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”
He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-
“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“
He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.
"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.
He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.
Oh god yes please-
Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.
"Use your words, puppy."
Puppy.
Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.
It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,
"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"
A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.
"There, that's a good boy."
Adrian's vision whites out.
He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.
He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.
His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.
He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.
Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.
Hot.
"Pathetic."
You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.
"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."
Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"
You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...
"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."
You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.
Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.
He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.
“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.
“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.
“See ya tomorrow!”
Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.
He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.
He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.
The phone drops from his fingers like lead.
How?
His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).
It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?
Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.
[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]
A shaky giggle escapes him.
Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.
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thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3
check my pinned post~
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peachie-bumblebee · 9 months
Text
FNAF SECURITY BREACH NSFW HEADCANONS
MAIN 4
MINORS DNI
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getting back to my ROOTS with this one!! hope my community is still out there- the dlc has brought back my love for the game :) i haven’t posted SB content in a LONG time so a reminder- I ONLY WRITE FOR CHARACTERS WHO PASS THE JACK HARKNESS TEST. They are OF AGE OR ABOVE, have HUMAN OR ABOVE INTELLIGENCE, and can VERBALLY GIVE INFORMED CONSENT. The SB animatronics are canonically sentient. None of the past ones are. okay- back to the content :D
CW: ONE PREGNANCY MENTION, KINK RELATED T0YS, SEMI-PUBLIC MENTIONS, DACRIPHILIA
GLAMROCK FREDDY
lord have mercy…
he’s the most virgin coded out of all of them. i’m sorry.
but do I think he’s a TOTAL virgin? no.
there are FREAKS out there (me writing this and y’all reading this-) who would 1000% show up to the pizzaplex just tryna get a piece of the fazballs
SORRY
he’s the type to silently get off in his dressing room and then get all embarrassed about it like there’s someone there to judge him
he’s an actual sweetheart in the sheets. he’s so so nice about everything. as we go down the list this DECREASES.
don’t push him too fucking hard tho. if you’re one of the ones who read my old fic Competition, you remember.
his fingers vibrate.
and so does that dick.
he’d turn it on inside of you and listen to you gasp before putting a hand gently over your mouth and hushing you.
he seems a lot like a gasper. maybe the occasional curse word coming out, but mostly praises of how good it feels.
i know he is a messy cummer. i’m right and that’s final.
he’d be absolutely humiliated after the fact and go get a wet washcloth asap, but it’s a very shocking amount anyway.
pregnancy isn’t a concern, but he’s still wary about cumming inside for some reason. he’s the type to make sure it’s okay like 3 times before he does it.
okay i lowkey think he’d be into getting handcuffed. i don’t know what handcuffs could genuinely hold him, but if you brought them out he’d be (figuratively) SWEATING
i think his eyes roll back when he cums. and i’m correct. eat me.
he’s the lead member but he’s humble about it… except a few times in bed. then he lets it go to his head(s). just a bit. ;)
if he was in a relationship he’d have a thing about his partner dressed in his merch
switch! but the most vanilla out of everyone- but remember, not completely.
…he’d eat his cum out of you.
no he is NOT gonna call you superstar during sex leave me ALONEEE
GLAMROCK CHICA
my biggest hc for her will and will always be that she has a MASSIVE toy collection. she is a toy girl. do i know how she gets them? not exactly.
but I DO know that they’re all pink and white and sparkly!
that doesn’t mean it’s all vanilla toys though (respect to the vanilla community but it is not me :) )
she does own a hot pink flogger and she WILL happily use it on a groupie or her partner.
she’s such a tease. she’s such a fucking tease jsghskbnsjh
doesn’t matter if she’s domming or subbing (60/40 ratio)
she’s a TEASE
and she giggles during sex
her whole bubbly pink happy girl thing doesn’t stop
she’ll put you in a bubblegum pink sex swing and use a big ass vibrator on you while giggling and telling you how cute you look
i know she likes pulling on nipples I KNOW SHE DOES
for those who used to ask- no, she can’t give head with her beak. and she’s not taking it off. sun/moon can’t give sloppy either BUT THEY MAKE IT WORK!
AND SHE DOES TOO!
she can fuck up the guitar with her fingers, what else do you think they can do?
she’s the type to pull you into a side room, hush you, finger fuck you, then send you on your way with a hug
i know for a FACT SHE WEARS A STRAP!
yes it IS glitter. it is also 9 inches.
and if you want more, she has more ways to give you that.
she’s also the type to get you front row tickets and put a remote control vibe in you so she can watch you squirm right in front of her.
she’s also a praiser, but there’s a lot of false sympathy in there too.
food aftercare. she wants to eat 3 pizzas with you. food is her love language
ROXANNE WOLF
YOU BETTER BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT!
she’s a dom. she just is.
god I miss that fic I wrote.
she’s so fucking cocky in bed. it’d be insufferable if she wasn’t so hot and so good at sex.
if who she’s fucking is AFAB she’s EATING IT!!!! YOU CAN BET ON IT THAT SHE DOES MUNCH!
if they’re AMAB then you can expect her to lean them back on her chest and give them the most intense handjob of their life.
in general, the animatronics are stronger than people, so when they’re rough they’re still not going at their hardest. that would actually just kill you.
she’s a show-off. she’ll leave marks in very noticeable places on purpose so that everyone knows that you’re getting fucked by THE Roxanne Wolf
she’s a hair puller. I just know she likes to wrap her claws up in it and pull.
don’t fucking pull hers though, she doesn’t like that shit.
yeah her tail wags when you eat her out, what about it? don’t point that shit out, it’s embarrassing to her.
she curses so much during sex.
the strap is purple and THICK. if you want more then she’ll just hit up Chica for a new one. Chica is more than happy to help. and more than happy to watch.
she’s only the jealous type if its some rando loser. THEN she’ll fuck the living shit out of you while telling you how she’s the best and making you repeat it back to her.
if it’s Monty or Chica? If you’d be into it too, then yeah, she’ll share.
…Freddy is more of a hard sell, but it’s not a hard no.
it’s more of a “Yeah yeah yeah but why do you wanna fuck the dumbass bear? Why him? Monty’s got a bigger one, I’ll tell you that.”
yeah but roxy baby his doesn’t vibrate
she comes off a winning high after a particularly close race, she’s going to go feral on you
with those eyes of hers, she can find you wherever you go. so if she’s randomly in the mood and her partner is there, even halfway across the pizzaplex, she’s on her way to pull you into her room and take some “private time.”
MONTGOMERY GATOR
hhhhhhooOOOHHH BOY
y’all remember the start of SB where he’s fucking up his room?
prepare to be destroyed HSGDHJSGBDNH
degrades. degrades the fuck out of you. it’s a toss up between Roxy and Monty who’s the more cocky, but he’s certainly meaner.
LONG ASS DICK. IT’S HUGE WITH ALL SORTS OF BUMPS AND RIDGES AND SHIT.
head pusher IF you’re okay with it. consent is mandatory.
he’d grab all his partner’s hair if they had any to grab, even just an INCH and go ham.
his long ass dick matches his long fucking tongue.
loves giving lethal backshots LOOOOOOOORD HAAAAAAAAVVVEEEE MEEERCYYYYYY
he’s not only breaking the bed, it’s straight up sawdust. idk how his partners live but they certainly live happily after.
as cocky as he is, he’s not exactly a selfish lover by any means. yeah, he’ll edge you, but he also likes to get his partner real sloppy if you catch my drift.
he aims to make you cry from pleasure. it’s straight up his goal.
i just know he knows EXACTLY where all the right spots are. you don’t even gotta tell him, inside or outside, no matter personal preference, he can always pinpoint his partner’s sweet spots
and then he proceeds to abuse the fuck out of that knowledge
he gets so jealous over Freddy, it’s insane
he sees his partner in his merch, he’s ripping it to shreds.
Roxy is less of a threat. That can be more of a collaborative effort.
he honestly doesn’t know how much of a freak in the sheets Chica is. If he had a threesome with her and she whipped out her chest of fun he’d be like “DAMN BITCH WHERE’D YOU GET ALL THOSE” and she’d be like “^-^ wanna see my buttplug collection? :>” LMFAOOO
GROANER. he GROANS LIKE CRAZY
also a bit of a growl but NOT in the cringe tiktok way don’t worry
HOPE YALL ENJOYED!!! I really hope I can start to find my old community with this :)
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freedomfireflies · 7 days
Text
Our Place*
Summary: An extra for 404*
The one where Harry invites you back to his apartment for the first time and it doesn't go as planned.
Word Count: 1.7k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, angst (happy ending), use of a safe word
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Harry’s apartment is nicer than you expected. 
The furniture is cozy, the décor is unique, and his bedroom is well kept. He even has fresh flowers on his kitchen table. 
It surprised you, even though it shouldn’t. Harry doesn’t seem like a dirty guy, but truthfully, you were still shocked to find he had both sheets on his bed and no clothes on the ground.
You take in the tiny details of his life as he kisses down your neck and slips his fingers into your jeans. He’d wrangled you onto the bed only seconds after you walked through the door. He didn’t want to give you a tour of the whole apartment. Just the bedroom. Which you were more than all right with. 
He’s oddly desperate, given the circumstances. Maybe he always is, but tonight feels different. Tonight feels…hopeful.
“Shit, Tink,” he groans into your ear when he feels how wet you’ve become. “S’this just because you rode my bike?”
You gently swat the back of his head. “Stop it.”
“What?” He noses under your jaw. “Felt you squirming back there, Princess. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you were trying to get yourself off to the vibrations?”
You wince. You didn’t even realize you’d been doing it. “I was not, I was just…the adrenaline was a lot—”
“Uh-huh.” He laughs and something about it sounds like honey. “S’fine, baby. You know I don’t mind.”
“Well…I wasn’t—”
“Sure. Can I fuck you now?”
You huff. “That’s why I’m here.”
He rips your jeans down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and somewhere onto the floor. The warm air feels good and it’s then that you realize he’s right. You’re soaked, all the way through your panties.
But instead of taunting you further, he only tugs them aside and pulls his cock out. 
“I think…” he murmurs as he lines himself up, “…it’s high time I got you pregnant.”
Your mouth falls open in a moan as he drops a glob of spit onto your clit and pushes in.  
You’ve noticed that his breeding kink makes an appearance more often than not these days. Which you aren’t exactly complaining about. After all, you have one, too. Mostly thanks to him.
But it surprises you all the same as he starts to work himself in and out of your tight cunt, whispering the filthiest promises. 
“Think I won’t do it, hm? I will. Swell this pretty belly with my cum. S’what it was made for, wasn’t it? To take me. Have my babies. Gonna stretch you so pretty…get your tits leaking. You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you, Princess?”
You try to respond but how can you? You feel as though you’ve been fucked dumb. Unable to hear anything past the pounding of blood in your ears.
His glasses start to slip down his nose. He almost always takes them off—they’re mostly for reading anyway. But you like the look of them. Like how studious it makes him seem...how scandalous.
So, you nudge them back up. Desperate to see him exactly the way he always is.
He smirks. “You all right there, Tink?”
You nod weakly. “Yes…yeah. M’fine.”
“Thinking about what I said?” He kisses down your chest. “Thinking about calling me Daddy for real? Having our babies?"
Our. A word you didn’t think belonged to you. Because Harry doesn’t belong to you. And you don’t belong to him. You’re two separate people. Even when you fuck, he’s in his world and you’re in yours. You weren’t meant to be an “our.”
You chalk this up to a slip of the tongue. Something you say when you're threatening to breed someone. And you choose not to give it any power. Because you know what happens if you do.
The fucking gets harder. Faster. He’s chasing a high. In fact, he's been chasing it since earlier in the bar when he saw you with another man. And you know he’s trying to hold off for you, but he wants to cum. He wants to paint your belly with his seed and fuck it back in. Wants to make good on his word even if he shouldn’t.
Your nails scratch down his back, damp and covered in sweat. But his muscles feel good in your hands and you whimper as you hike a leg over his hip and bury him in your pussy.
In your lust-filled haze, your attention drifts. Head rolling to the side as you focus on the soft grunts in your ear. 
But then, your eyes find something on his dresser.
Your heart stops.
In fact, everything stops. Your breathing, your noises, your gentle rolls to meet his thrusts.
It all stops. And you whisper, “Red.”
He quickly falls still. A rather impressive feat given how anxious he is to find release. From 100 to 0 in only seconds, and you almost feel guilty as you sense him glance at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asks through labored inhales. “What…what happened, what do you want me to do?”
But you don’t look back. You keep your focus on the piece of furniture in the corner of his room and you will yourself not to cry.
Eventually, he looks, too. And when he realizes, the air in the room shifts.
He lets out a soft sigh and drops his hand to your hip. Squeezing it once. “Tink…”
You say nothing. Tears are pooling behind your lashes and your chest feels tight. 
“Tink,” he tries again, firm. His grip tightens on your waist. “Tinkerbell—"
“She’s beautiful,” you breathe. You take in a soft gasp. “Oh, my god, Harry, she’s…she’s so beautiful.”
He’s quiet for only a moment. “Yeah. She was,” he agrees gently.
You can’t take your eyes away from the picture frame. The guilt is so much worse now than it was before. Your heart is in your throat, in your ears, lying on the floor next to your jeans. 
You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. In his bed—their bed—fucking the man she died loving. While he promises to get you pregnant and give you his babies.
And how is he so calm? How the fuck is he looking at her picture while still inside of you instead of screaming at you to leave his apartment? How can he be okay with cheating on her with you?
“Princess,” he says again, and grabs onto your jaw to force your focus back to him. “Talk to me, what do you want me to do?”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“You said red,” he reminds you. “Which means we stop. But I need to know if you’re in pain or if I can pull out?”
It takes a moment for you to blink the fog from your mind and understand. But when you do, your stomach wrenches. “I…wait, shit, I…I want you to finish, I just…I saw her photo, and—”
“I know,” he interrupts softly. He gives you a gentle smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But red means stop. And we’re gonna honor that. No matter why you said it.”
You whimper. “Harry, wait—”
“I’m gonna pull out,” he says, ignoring your plea. “And then we’re gonna talk—”
“Harry…Harry come on, you can’t—”
But he does. Even though he winces as slips himself out, teeth gritting together to keep from coming. 
But once he’s out, he delicately closes your legs, and sits beside you. “Okay,” he begins. He keeps your eyes on him. “What’s going on up there?” 
He nods at your forehead and you want to cry. “Nothing, I just…I…”
“You’ve never seen her before.”
You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”
“And you weren’t expecting to see her now,” he says for you. “Especially when we were fucking.”
You sniffle. “It felt like we were cheating. Like I was helping you hurt her. And then…and then I got worried that maybe you only brought me back here so you could pretend I was her. You know? With all the stuff about…about babies…and us, and…and—”
“Okay, breathe,” he instructs. He cups your cheek and presses his thumb to your trembling lips. “Breathe, Tink. Slow.”
Forced to obey, you suck in shallow gasps for air until your heart rate slows and your head doesn’t feel so dizzy.
Pleased, he says, “I know you’re not her, Tink. I don’t want you to be.”
Your expression softens.
“I brought you here because you’re the only person I want to see in the place she once lived,” he continues. His voice is strong. Steady. Like he’s given this far more thought than you anticipated. “After she died, I left it the same. I didn’t touch anything. Not the furniture she picked out. Not the dumb, cute little bowls she insisted we buy. Not the coffee pot that doesn’t work but she loved because she swore it made her coffee taste better. None of it.”
The tears fall down your cheeks, fast and without mercy. 
“I didn’t invite people over because I wanted to pretend she still lived here,” he tells you. “I wanted it to still be our place. Not just mine. And the thought of bringing someone else back here felt…wrong.”
You grab onto his wrist to keep his hand close and he smiles. 
“And then you,” he murmurs, dipping down to nuzzle his nose against yours. A display of affection you’d never expect from him. “And yeah, you’re annoying, and I hate you. But she would have fucking loved you.”
You nearly sob. 
“I want you here,” he says. “I want to talk about getting you pregnant and having our babies. I want to fuck you on this bed and I want to make you cry for a very different reason.”
You laugh through the tears.
“Look, I don’t believe in guardian angels and an afterlife and all that shit,” he admits. “But sometimes, I swear she sent you to me. And yeah, I probably should have moved the picture first. That was my fault, I haven’t had anyone in here in a while. But…you’re not her, Tink. You’re you. And that’s exactly who I want you to be.”
You can’t stop the next wave of emotion as you sling your arms around his neck and pull him close. He chuckles in your embrace but doesn’t fight you. He holds you, too. For as long as you both need.
“I hate you, too,” you finally whisper.
He smiles.
“Harry?”
“Mm?”
“…can we please finish now?”
He leans back to see you. “Are you sure?”
“Very.” You kiss him. “After all, you promised to get me pregnant. And I can’t leave until you do, Daddy."
The groan against your lips is delicious and devious.
And it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
“As you wish.”
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WHY DID THIS MAKE ME WANT TO CRY!!! ALSO HI I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!
Previous Part:
~ The one where Harry gets jealous (again)
~ Full 404 Masterlist
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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 days
Text
the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
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old-lorarri · 1 month
Text
꒰꒰ ‧₊˚🇲🇲 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌 ─ 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ after a long winter break carlos decided to go and visit his gf's family and seeks to gain there approval ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ carlos sainz x fem! ferrari! race engineer! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ this is. really short one and I'm sorry it's not very good but I hope you enjoy! ❩
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❨ series masterlist | main masterlist ❩
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BIG BRO
so when am I meeting him
LIL SIS
when are you meeting who?
BIG BRO
your new bf
did you seriously think I wouldn't find out
LIL SIS
who else in the family knows
BIG BRO
everyone
did you forget dad legit has investments in most of the f1 teams
how long did you think you could hide this
LIL SIS
long enough....
how did i do?
BIG BRO
not half bad
though next time don't make out in the middle of the paddock
even if there are no cameras around
kind defeats the purpose of being "secret"
LIL SIS
fair enough
BIG BRO
anyway you should bring his to the family gathering
LIL SIS
and expose him to gossiping aunties and dad asking him 78374 questions
BIG BRO
they have to learn the hard way
it's the rules
LIL SIS
hi it's carlos here I would love to come meet your family
BIG BRO
we shall see buddy
carlosainz55 . 9hrs ago
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seen by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,475,679 others
landonorris replied to your story!
ahhh meeting the parents are we
and the rest of the family
uncles, cousins, aunts, and grandparents
have you been threatened by her siblings yet
yes
all 8 of her brothers have threatened me
5 different uncles
and her father and grandfather
I have never been more scared in my life
anything interesting happen?
yeah all of the aunts gossip is JUCY
spill when you get back ey?
the aunties were mostly gossiping about how I'm gonna be unemployed in 2025
carlossainz55
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liked by yourinstagram landonorris 79,568,989 others
carlossainz55 🇲🇲 bruma through the lens of my gf
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user how does it feel to be living my dream
user carlos has a gf???
user I just searched up his gf and she's OLD MONEY how am I going to compete with her now
user forget carlos I want MOTHER
user oh how I wish I could call carlos sainz jr mine
user my parents ya'll
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─ requested by . . .
anon ─ Hi can I request 🇲🇲for the next crazy rich Asian series with Carlos and the driver I’m sorry if I’m being demanding..tho😓But the story line were reader is his f1 engineering and they starts dating and they get to the point were it’s necessary to meet each other’s family like including relatives but reader already met Carlos’s family so Carlos is going to meet readers family and he finds out readers family is like “crazy rich” for generations and he spends a week with the families back in mandalay. With gossiping aunties, flirty cousins and readers protective dad and brothers.I’m sorry again if it seems like I’m demanding. I’m really up for an hour brainstorming for this storyline 😭😭thank you so much for even reading to this point.😅
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devildom-moss · 2 months
Text
Signs of Affection (kiss)
Part 2 of this request (Lucifer, Leviathan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon)
(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Asmodeus x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC)
(Suggestive)
Word Count: +4,100 (we aren't going to talk about the size difference between these shorts okay?)
Mammon
“Geez, that sucked. Two hours of silent studyin’ for an F? I got a different F for that guy: a big ‘fuck you,’” Mammon grumbled to himself with his hands folded behind his head as he walked out of his mandatory extra lessons – or rather, they could have been classified as lessons if he had actually learned anything. Instead, Mammon spent the first 5 minutes trying to read one paragraph four times and the next 3 minutes trying to read the following paragraph before he became acutely aware that the supervising professor for today was watching him. He was clearly disappointed and judgmental of Mammon’s ongoing failure to turn the page. For the rest of his lesson, Mammon alternated between daydreaming about you – twisting your image in his head into a variety of different scenarios from innocent dates to the most depraved acts – and counting how many times he could spot the first letter of your name on the page. At least with the latter, it looked like he was reading.
“Mammon! How was delinquent rehab?” you teased him from your spot on the bench outside of the class.
Mammon shrieked and jumped. “W-what the fuck are ya doin’ here?!”
“MAMMON!” The supervisor poked his head out of the door. “Stop yelling in the hall and go home before I decide to keep you for another hour.”
“Sorry, that was my fault, Professor Amy. I startled him.” You stood up and bowed slightly, hoping the astronomy – and somehow, simultaneously, art – professor would go easy on Mammon if you took the heat.
“Oh, it’s you.” You were right to hope; Amy’s tone instantly softened. “If you’re on your way home, please take this loudmouth with you.”
“Who ya callin’ a loudmouth, man?” Mammon growled. You cupped your hand over his mouth; better late than never.
“Yes, I’ll be on my way now. I was just waiting for Mammon to finish his lessons.”
“Does being an idiot pay off after all?” Amy mused aloud – mostly to annoy the muzzled Mammon. “Very well. Be safe on your way home.”
“Alright, thank you, sir.” You smiled at him and began to drag Mammon down the hall. You only uncovered his mouth once the professor had gone back inside, and you were safely out of earshot.
“’Thank you, sir,’” Mammon mocked you. “Fuck was all that? You ain’t fuckin’ that teacher now are ya?”
“No, you pervert. It’s called being polite. You’d probably get in less trouble if you tried it with a few of your professors.”
“What’cha doin’ bein’ all polite to him for, anyway? Guy’s not even a good teacher, and he clearly has a human kink. Just stay away from him.”
“I almost never talk to him outside of our classes.” You rolled your eyes at Mammon. His jealousy had been excessive recently. As a slight punishment, you decided to tease him. “And why do you know so much about human kinks that you can recognize it in someone else?”
“Shuddup. It ain’t like that!”
“Like what?”
“I don’t have a human kink or nothing,” Mammon yelled. His cheeks burned, and he blurted out, “it’s only you.”
“Sorry, what was that?” you teased, biting back your smile.
“I didn’t say shit. Forget it.” Mammon crossed his arms as he picked up his speed just enough to walk ahead of you, hoping to avoid showing you the blush that stained his face.
“Okay, Mammon.” You dropped it, allowing him a bit of his dignity.
You both walked in silence for a minute until, finally, Mammon slowed down and started to walk beside you again. His blush had calmed. He glanced to the side briefly, trying not to draw your attention, but you noticed and smiled at him. Why do ya always look so cute ‘n happy when you’re walkin’ home with me, huh? What gives? Mammon wondered. If something as simple as walking home could make you smile like that, you were going to start charming demons left and right, and Mammon had no intention of sharing any more of you than he had to. That’s why he was so annoyed by you being nice to that professor. Just thinking about the way that demon’s face softened around you was pissing him off.
Suddenly, Mammon remembered what you had said, and his cheeks reignited in a faint blush. Nervous and masking his shyness with aggression, Mammon asked, “Hey, were ya serious about that back there – about just waitin’ for me to get out?”
“Yeah, of course I was.”
“For real? Ya waited two whole hours?”
“For my favorite hole? Yeah.” You smirked.
“Shuddup!” Mammon’s face burned. “Now who’s bein’ a perv?!”
“At least we’re even.” You smiled sweetly, as if you hadn’t just said something so vulgar – on a public street, no less.
Mammon stopped in his tracks, confidence surging in him. You stopped and looked back, confused. He grinned. “Ya must really love the Great Mammon, huh?”
“Sure do,” you readily agreed.
“I knew it!” Mammon pronounced – as if the occasional doubt had never wandered into his head. While he still had the courage to act, Mammon grabbed the sides of your face and quickly placed a kiss on your cheek. He whispered in your ear, “Thanks for bein’ so sweet to me, MC.”
Before you could register what had just happened, Mammon took off running towards the House of Lamentation. He pulled out his phone, skillfully dodging random obstacles and other demons as he appeared to start typing something. Seconds later, your D.D.D. buzzed.
Mammon: First one home gets a real kiss from the loser. Deal?
You laughed and stared down the street, watching as Mammon increased the distance between you. There was no way you were going to catch up to him.
MC: Deal. 💛
Satan
Satan was utterly thrilled when he found out the library had finally received the book that he requested two months ago. He insisted upon checking it out immediately after class, and since you had studying to do anyway, you went along with him.
With his new book acquired, Satan joined you at the small table you had settled into and began to read. However, his attention’s lifespan was uncharacteristically short despite his initial excitement. Satan’s eyes wandered away from the page, drifting up to you. Each time he tried to refocus on the book, his gaze punished him for a failure to indulge himself by lingering on you.
Few things enticed Satan more than you – especially when you got that serious look on your face. He had tried to keep reading too many times to keep track of, and now he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from you again. So, he just sat there, watching you read over your notes, recopying the most relevant points on a fresh sheet of paper. You were being so diligent.
One of the awful things about demons is that the alarm bells that go off in your head when you think someone is watching you are stronger and scarier when that someone is a powerful demon – and the fear your innate human senses created under the predatory gaze of a demon like Satan, whose sin was a destructive and devastating wrath, was intense. It sent a shiver up your spine, and when you looked up to find Satan’s eyes locked on your face, you jumped in your seat slightly. He didn’t need to look so hungry.
“Please stop staring, Satan.” You looked away, trying to turn your attention back to your studies.
“You don't want me to stare at you?” Satan got out of his seat across the table and took the spot right next to you. He propped his chin up in his hand and stared at you up close, eyeing you up and down with a smug grin on his face. “I want to. What's the problem?"
“It’s a bit distracting to have your eyes on me.” That was at least mostly true. There was no need to mention he was also turning you on in public. “I’d rather you not just stare at me.”
“Is that all?” Satan laughed. “You don’t want me to just stare? Very well.”
Satan leaned in, slowly shutting his eyes, and kissed your cheek. His warm lips lingered on your skin and his hot breath tickled. You could feel another chill run up your spine when his eyes fluttered back open. Even when he pulled back, his mouth hovered just over your cheek.
Another set of eyes landed on you. From a few aisles away, another library regular was stunned in their spot, mortified to have witnessed the Avatar of Wrath kissing a human in the library – not that they hadn’t seen worse. They gave you an awkward wave before turning and walking in the opposite direction, abandoning the book they had been searching for.
“Satan,” you chided him.
“What?” Satan hummed, inching closer to your ear, and whispered, “Do you still want more?”
“Someone saw.” You felt a bit guilty about it, too. Their embarrassment matched yours; in fact, it may have been even worse. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I wanted to. And who cares if someone saw? What are they going to do about a kiss on the cheek? It’s fine.” Satan placed another kiss on your cheek before returning to whisper seductively in your ear, “Besides, we’ve done worse. Don’t act so shy and innocent now. Do you need a reminder of all the things we’ve done – or perhaps you’d prefer a physical demonstration?”
What did you do to deserve this? You were just trying to study.
Asmodeus
“You weren’t waiting too long for moi, were you?” Asmo rushed to the table that you had grabbed when you arrived. He had a grin on his lips, but that charming smile was a cover for the guilt and anxiety he felt about being fifteen minutes late for your date. He couldn’t figure out which pair of socks to wear to complement his boots and skirt – and in the end, he just ended up pulling on a pair of lace stockings. Usually, Asmo didn’t care if he was a little late, but the idea of leaving you all alone in a demon-infested night café didn’t sit well with him.
“I would have happily waited much longer – especially when you show up, looking this cute.” You smiled at him sweetly, and every inch of Asmo’s body burned.
“Ooh, you little charmer.” Asmo giggled. “Did you order yet?”
“Of course not; I wanted to wait for you.”
“Such an obedient human,” Asmo teased, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his hand. He stared at you affectionately.
“I’ve never been called that in my life.” You laughed, and that only made Asmo happier to have said it.
“Want me to go up and order? Just tell me what you want – other than me, of course.” Asmo got to his feet and waited patiently for you to relay your order. With a smile and a wink, Asmo booped your nose. “Excellent. Now make sure to enjoy the view.”
Before you could question him, Asmo spun around and walked toward the register. Each step was a deliberate effort to draw your attention to his legs and ass. Oh. That view. Asmo was a hopeless flirt, but he was awfully sweet, too. Besides, you couldn’t deny that it was a good view.
Unfortunately, as Asmo returned from placing the order, he was faced with the irritating realization that he was not the only view in the café. He caught a handful of demons leering at you – and one of them appeared to be approaching. Not on Asmo’s expensive, crystal watch. He hurried back to the table just in time to cut off the tall demon, placing his delicate hand over your shoulder possessively. With a haunting smile, Asmo stared them down. He announced – more to the other demon than to you, “I’m back, hun. Did you miss me?”
A shiver ran up the demon’s spine, and their eyes went wide. They weren’t about to square up with Asmodeus over a human – not after all the rumors they had heard about bloodlust being stronger in lust demons than those ruled by wrath. The demon awkwardly tried to escape by blurting out, “enjoy your date.”
The demon scurried away quickly, and you looked up at Asmo just in time for his menacing aura to dissipate. “That was weird, right?”
“Some people just can’t act right around cuties.” Asmo dismissed your worry with a lighthearted laugh.
“So, you get that a lot?”
“Sometimes, but I don’t mean me.” Asmo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re so cute it’s drawing attention.”
“I’m not as cute as you, though.” You smiled. “Now, sit down with me.”
“Actually, I was hoping we could snap a few pictures first. Do you mind?”
“Sure, I guess.” You shrugged and started to stand, but Asmo used his hand that was still resting on your shoulder to push you back down into your seat.
“No need to get up,” Asmo cooed. He took a step back and leaned over your chair so he could get right next to your face and drape his arms over you. “This position is perfect.”
Asmo snapped a few pictures. With each one, he seemed to get closer until his cheek was pressed to yours affectionately. He asked you to make a half heart with your hand and completed it with his own. Then, catching you off guard, Asmo kissed your cheek tenderly, waiting a few seconds before finally snapping a picture. He immediately pulled his phone back and stood up to discreetly examine the photo. The shit-eating grin on his face spoke for itself. He was all too pleased with it.
“What was that?” You scoffed. You probably should have anticipated that level of physical affection from Asmo, but sometimes, he still surprised you.
“Hmm? Isn’t it obvious?” Asmo looked down at you, innocently tilting his head. “I had to mark my territory.”
“What?” Your eyes widened. Sure, Asmo was always teasing you and flirting, but you hadn’t quite expected that answer. Asmo giggled and bent over, getting indecently close to your neck.
“I had to mark you,” he repeated in a low, seductive tone. “Would you rather I leave a hickey on your neck right now instead? I’d be happy to.”
“Just be a good boy and sit down.” You sighed. It wasn’t that embarrassing, but all you could do was imagine Lucifer’s voice scolding you for indulging Asmo too much in public.
“Ooh, I do want to be your good boy. Okay.” Asmo grinned, biting back the urge to call you one of a myriad of unacceptable titles, and returned to his seat across from you. He pulled his phone out and started messing with it. “See, I’m behaving.”
You laughed. Something told you that he was not, in fact, behaving. It only took a few minutes of mindless chatting while he continued tapping away at his phone – a habit you were so accustomed to that it usually didn’t strike you as rude – for your suspicion to be confirmed.
Your D.D.D. buzzed with an alert from Asmo’s Devilgram. He posted the picture of him kissing your cheek with a pink heart emoji covering your face – for the sake of your privacy. That was decent of him. You smiled softly, certain that Asmo was watching you. It already had over 6k likes by the time you scrolled down to read the caption: Ugh. My date is so cute that they’re attracting all sorts of attention. No one else deserves to see that cute face tonight but moi~ What do you think, everyone, should I mark them for myself?  
Asmo was spared a playful lecture when his name was called at the counter. You got up to help him carry the drinks and food back to your table. The barista seemed to be staring at you, but when Asmo put his finger up to his lips, they got flustered and looked away, returning to their work. Covering your face in the picture served another purpose: Asmo was hiding the gloss mark he left on your cheek. You didn’t need to know about it yet.
Belphegor
Belphie was lucky that you had chosen to sit in the back of the lecture hall where he could comfortably lean up against your shoulder and fall asleep without immediate repercussions. At least he was polite enough to nap on the shoulder for your non-dominant hand so you could continue to take notes as you listened to the lecture. Occasionally, you glanced down at his sleeping face; he looked so sweet, peaceful, and adorable.
The clock ticked down the few remaining minutes of the lecture, which was your cue to begin the wake-up process. Although Belphegor seldom cared what his brothers or the professor thought about him using you as a pillow during class, you found that it was easier to just wake him up before the complaints came rolling in. You set your pen down, pet Belphie gently, and whispered his name so that only he would hear you. A soft moan left him, and he nuzzled into your arm before leisurely opening his eyes with a content smile.
“Good morning, MC.” Belphie whispered into your ear.
Reluctantly, Belphegor forced himself upright and away from the warmth of your body just in time for the lecture to be dismissed. The professor and other students gathered their things and collectively made their way towards the doors. You, however, waited on Belphegor to shake off his nap and get to his feet.
“C’mon, MC. Catch up,” Mammon shouted from the front of the class.
“Give us a second,” you replied at a lower volume.
“Man, you two are so slow. I ain’t waitin’ around forever.” Mammon groaned and made his way slowly towards the door.
“He would know slow,” Belphie muttered just loud enough for you to hear as he stood up.
“Belphie,” you chided him, but your tone went ignored.
“Hey, can I borrow your notes later? Maybe we could review together.” There was a soft, sweet neediness in Belphie’s voice.
“Didn’t you catch the lecture in your sleep like you usually do?” Sometimes Belphie’s ability to remember things that happened around him while he was asleep creeped you out. He was like an unassuming monitoring device if he wanted to be.
“Indulge me.” Belphie knocked his shoulder against yours playfully.
“I always do, don’t I?” You sighed. That was the unfortunate effect he had on you: you always found yourself spoiling him, even when he didn’t deserve it – or rather, especially when he didn’t.
You were just about to walk into the hall when Belphie grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the classroom before the others spotted you. He played with your hand, caressing you with his thumbs. His cheeks were stained light pink as his eyes flitted from your hand to your face.
“What’s the matter, Bel?”
Belphie closed the distance between you, springing forward to kiss your cheek. The sudden movement surprised you, but it wasn’t especially shocking; Belphegor had always been physically affectionate. He inched closer, causing his hot breath to ghost over your skin. His lips curved into a precious grin as he whispered in your ear: “Thank you for always spoiling me.”
The honey-sweet tone of Belphie’s voice was undercut by a sharp yell from the corner of the room. “I saw that.”
It was Solomon. He stopped shoving his books into his bag to glare at the back of Belphegor’s head. Unfortunately for Solomon, Belphie wasn’t bothered; he simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“Cool shit, bro.” Belphie replied in a condescending tone and lifted his arm up in the air to flip Solomon off. You watched Solomon’s jaw drop slightly as he physically recoiled. Sometimes Solomon forgot how rude Belphegor could be. It was hard not to laugh, but you really shouldn’t encourage his bad behavior by laughing. “Come on, MC. Let’s go.”
Belphie grabbed your arm and dragged you into the hall. He was attached, and he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. In fact, he planned to stay glued to your side until his desire for your attention was fully satisfied.
Solomon
The warmth of Solomon’s hands as he caressed your cheek was nothing compared to the warmth of his praise and your own pride swelling in your chest. Solomon hummed, “You did such a good job.”
You had successfully used a heating spell on the first try, evidenced by the warmth in Solomon’s previously cold hands. It had been a while since you got a spell that Solomon taught you perfect right away – let alone one that required you to manipulate another person’s body (and you could worry about the ethical dilemma involved with that later). Neither of you had expected you to raise his body temperature at such an ideal rate and stop at the perfect temperature. Of course, Solomon trusted you not to hurt him, but he was impressed by your control. He wanted to test you further.
“Excellent. Let’s try something similar.” Solomon began to search his shelves for the right ingredients. He continued to talk as he scanned, “I want to see if you can cool down an external object with the same level of control. If you can do it, I’ll reward you.”
“Bring it on,” you accepted. Solomon offered you plenty of praise when you did well, but he so rarely gave you an actual reward for your work. It was exciting to imagine what you could earn. Maybe he would teach you a cool, secret spell or give you a magical item. But more motivating than a reward was the idea of making Solomon proud.
“That’s my apprentice – so eager,” he mused, grabbing a bottle of glowing red liquid.
“Oh, but no home cooking as a reward,” you added, sparing your future self from potential suffering.
Solomon whipped his head around with a pout before returning to his search. He found a beaker and brought everything to his desk. By then, the pout had reshaped itself into a smirk. “I didn’t have cooking in mind when I offered you a reward, so it looks like we have a deal.”
Solomon poured plain water and the glowing red liquid into the beaker. They failed to mix. You asked, “What do I have to do?”
It was simple – or at least that was what Solomon said. All you had to do was cool the contents of the container between 32 to 36 degrees below the freezing point of water. If the red substance dipped under 36 degrees below the freezing point of water, it would become unstable. If you failed, the ice and glass would break open. Solomon didn’t tell you anything about the red substance or what “unstable” meant for it. All you knew was that you had a four-degree margin of error.
“And you’re sure it’s safe?”
“I wouldn’t put my favorite apprentice in danger for a game, would I?”
With that reassurance, you focused your magic into the beaker. As the water slowly solidified, the red liquid became concentrated at the center until it was encased in ice. You just had to keep lowering it until something felt right. You stopped and nodded. Solomon inspected the beaker.
“A beautiful job,” Solomon praised you.
“Really? What did I do though?”
“I’ll tell you once the ice melts,” Solomon waved off your curiosity. “For now, it’s time for your reward. Close your eyes.”
You did as he instructed and listened to him moving about the room. His presence got closer until you could feel his warmth. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, causing your eyes to shoot open and your face to burn. Solomon chuckled at your response.
“I could feel your cheeks getting warm. Did I embarrass you?”
“No. I was just surprised.”
“Really?” Solomon leaned in and kissed your cheek again. “I don’t know. Your face burns under my lips.”
“You’re a terrible teacher,” you retorted. That wasn’t what you were expecting, of course he flustered you.
“Oh? That can’t possibly be true. My adorable apprentice seems to be doing quite well,” Solomon laughed, all too pleased with his successful attempt to tease you. “You learn so quickly. Should we try something even harder? Think you can handle it?”
There was a seductive tint to his words, and you narrowed your eyes at Solomon. “Same shady reward system? Pass.”
“Nope,” Solomon leaned close, trying to entice you. How were you just now noticing how sweet he smelled? Was he wearing perfume or cologne today? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. Solomon dropped his voice, and through a wicked smirk, he added, “even shadier. If you succeed, I’ll do whatever you ask for a full day.”
“And if I fail?” you asked cautiously.
“I get to punish you.”
(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)
A/N: These ones got really flirty. . . oh well. Uhm, leave me nice comments or something. I don't know. I feel like I'm forgetting to say something. . .
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generalsmemories · 5 months
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Ginkgo leaves
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous
✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.
✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.
p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).
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"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.
"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.
"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."
"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.
"He doesn't have one."
"Then why did you even-"
"But he likes ginkgo leaves."
The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...
"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."
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Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.
It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.
Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.
But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.
No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.
You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.
General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.
General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.
So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.
But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."
That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.
The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.
Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.
Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.
But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.
But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.
"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.
You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.
There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.
Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.
And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.
And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.
But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.
"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.
And he can't hold it in anymore.
It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.
"Please don't make me do this again."
He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.
"... You won't." you whisper quietly.
It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.
But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.
"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."
Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.
You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.
"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.
Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.
And naturally, the one who lost is you.
"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."
You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.
But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.
He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.
"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.
"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."
Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.
The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.
If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.
Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.
"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."
A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.
Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.
"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.
When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.
Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.
"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.
Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"
Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.
A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.
"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."
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5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.
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babybluebex · 2 years
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: series masterlist | after you receive a series of anonymous love letters, eddie has a confession to make that might make or break your whole friendship. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut (minors dni, fingering f!receiving, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink), a little possessiveness if you squint, cute fluffy eddie head over heels for you, everyone in this is 18+ and if you aren't, you shouldn't be reading it!𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i wrote this in (mostly) one sitting because the idea came to me and i couldn’t let it go, and it's absurdly long so.... here’s some sweet eddie smut!
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You opened your locker, and watched as it fell out, just like every day. Every day for the past month, someone had been sneaking notes through the vent of your locker door, and you had no idea who was doing it. You thought it would be easy to figure out, the messy, nearly-illegible, handwriting indicative of a boy, but not even asking the Hellfire Club for opinions helped bring an answer. All that had succeeded in was Dustin poking fun at you for getting anonymous love letters, and you had sighed with exhaustion and snatched the first note back. 
You picked up the newest note from next to your shoe, unfolding it to read the newest sentiment. The handwriting was a little messier than usual, maybe rushed or something, and it read the same as every other note: that you were beautiful and smart, that any man who calls himself your boyfriend is lucky, then goes on to ask “Do you still not know who I am? I thought it was obvious, princess. Oh well. Maybe one day you’ll figure it out, and then I can be yours.” Not a single note was signed with a name or anything identifiable, and it was driving you crazy trying to figure it out. 
Before you could properly read the new note, it was being pulled out of your hand, and you whipped your head around to see Eddie, smiling like a goofball and examining the note. “Damn,” he chuckled. “Whoever this is has got it bad for you.” 
“Eddie,” you whined. “Gimme that back, it’s private.”
“What is it?” Eddie asked, examining the note. “Wait… Is this that letter you showed us, like, forever ago?”
“No,” you told him. “It’s like… I’ve been getting them every day since then.”
“Every day?” Eddie repeated, pulling a confused face, a grimace with knitted eyebrows.. “I thought it was just the one?”
“C’mon, seriously, give it back,” you groaned, but Eddie used his height against you, lifting the note above his head and craning his head to read it.
“A month of this?” Eddie asked. “‘I think about you every day, imagining what it would be like to be your man’— does this kinda shit work on you?”
“Eddie, c’mon,” you said, and you grabbed at the note. Eddie was quicker than you, though, turning to defend himself and the love letter. 
“Who is it?” He asked. “Do you know?” 
You sighed, seeing no way out of this. Eddie had been at the helm of teasing when you had first brought the issue to the Hellfire Club, nothing really harmful but it still made your stomach curdle. He seemed more invested in the mystery than even you were, even if he didn’t remember it until now.
“I have no idea,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but nobody recognizes the handwriting. Anyway, who would like me this much to write weird anonymous love letters?”
Eddie handed the crinkled note back to you, and you almost missed the way his face fell. “You think they’re weird?” he asked, and you shrugged as you folded the letter back up. 
“It’s certainly not normal,” you said. “Why can’t this guy just tell me that he likes me? He can drop this pining bullshit he’s doing.” 
“Maybe he’s scared to tell you,” Eddie offered. He leaned up against the locker next to you, his fluffy curls flattening against the metal, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he’s so afraid you’ll say no that he can’t even bear to tell you in person.” 
“Well, I can’t say yes if I don’t know who he is,” you sighed. 
“That’s true,” Eddie offered. “But seriously, does that mushy shit work on you?” 
You floundered for an answer, not wanting to give Eddie the satisfaction of being right, but your hesitation was answer enough. 
“It does!” Eddie laughed. “Oh, that’s amazing, you’re a little romantic.”
“I mean, maybe!” you said with a heavy shrug. “It’s just nice to have someone be, like, head over heels for me, y’know? Knowing that I’m appreciated like this…” 
Eddie sighed heavily through his nose, and he said, “Give me that note, I’ll read it to you.”
“Fuck off,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. 
“No, really,” Eddie said. His chocolatey eyes widened with earnestness, and he added, “If you want someone to appreciate you, I’ll do it.” 
“I already know you appreciate me,” you said. “You’re like my brother, Ed. Anyway, you don’t wanna appreciate me like this.”
“Why not?” Eddie asked, and he took the note from your hand once more. “Is it dirty? Is he sending you dirty letters?” 
“Not always,” you told him. “I haven’t properly read this one yet; someone took it from me before I could.” 
Eddie opened the note and cleared his throat, and he read it off to you. “‘Princess’,” he snickered. “Strong start. He calls you princess?” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you groaned and tried to snatch the note away, but Eddie held you at arm’s length, keeping you away. 
“‘Princess, I thought about you all day’,” Eddie read. “‘It doesn’t help that you look so cute today. You should wear that lipstick more often, it makes your eyes look nice. Sometimes I think about what kissing your perfect lips would be like, having your lipstick stain my mouth. It’s enough to drive a man crazy. Is that something you would like? Do you like to be kissed, princess? When we meet, that’s the very first thing I’ll do, is kiss you. I think about you everyday, imagining what it would be like to be your man.’” Eddie paused to smile at the line that he had picked out before, and he continued. “I’d like you to be my girl, in any way I can have you. I love you.’”
“It does not say that,” you huffed. “He did not tell me he loves me.” 
“Okay, you’re right, that’s not written,” Eddie admitted, and you rolled your eyes. “But it might as well be! This guy's in love with you! That’s some sappy shit, babe, he’s got it bad.”
Before you could retort, the bell sounded, and you groaned as you finally retrieved the note from Eddie’s hand. “I’ll see you this afternoon,” you told him, shoving the note in your pocket. “Forget you ever read that.”
“Forgotten,” Eddie said with a nod. “I’ll see you at Hellfire, princess.” 
“Don’t call me that!” you shouted after him as he left down the hallway, and you sighed and brushed your fingers against your pocket. The note was sweet, but the problem came with Eddie. Now that he had narrated the letter, you couldn’t help but imagine only his voice as you read it back. The image of Eddie slaving over writing the perfect love note stuck in your head, and you physically shook your head to get rid of the thought. 
It wasn’t Eddie. There was no way it could be. You knew what Eddie’s handwriting looked like and it wasn’t what was on the sheet of paper. Anyway, you knew Eddie well, and he wasn’t shy like that. If he liked you enough to send love letters, he would just tell you as much. Deep in your chest, you sorta hoped it was Eddie writing you the letters. Even if it wasn’t sincere and was a prank (which was uncharacteristic for Eddie, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility), the idea that Eddie even noticed your lipstick or had the inkling of a desire to kiss you made your stomach turn flips. It was about time to face the music: you liked him.
You closed your locker with a sigh, and you made your way to class, the letter burning a hole in your pocket. 
Hellfire was successful that afternoon. Not exactly successful for the campaign— by all accounts, half of your group dying from a single hit by Vecna and the last member standing failing to kill him was very unsuccessful— but you always liked hanging out with the guys from Hellfire and always considered it a win. As the only girl, it was sometimes difficult to only hang out with guys, but everyone, even the freshmen, treated you nicely. Dustin looked at you like a sister, and you frequently drove him home after meetings.
“Can we get food on the way home?” Dustin asked as he shoved his binder into his backpack, and you shrugged. 
“Why not?” you asked. “What’re you thinking?” 
“I’m not sure,” Dustin replied. “You can choose.”
“How kind,” you smiled. “How about—”
“Hey, princess,” Eddie began from his place on his Dungeon Master throne. You turned to him, and he beckoned you over with a swipe of his fingers: “I wanna talk to you.” 
You sighed and rolled your eyes, and you shouldered your backpack as you turned back to Dustin. “Go to the car,” you told him and tossed him your car keys. “Get the heat going, alright?” 
Dustin did as you told him, and you tilted your head curiously at Eddie. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his lower arms, his hair all frizzy but still looking nice, and he had his plump pink lips pursed. “What’s up?” you asked. 
“I was thinking about your little letter situation,” Eddie began. “The anonymous author and all.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. “Eddie, really, leave it alone, it’s truly not that big a deal.”
“Yeah, but if some creep is trying to put the moves on you, the least he can do is do it in person,” Eddie sighed. “You deserve better than just some creepy love letters shoved in your locker.” 
“Do I?” you laughed, and Eddie’s dark eyes flashed. 
“Of course you do,” Eddie said. “You’re the best girl at Hawkins.”
“Chrissy Cunningham might disagree,” you mumbled under your breath, and Eddie sighed as he rolled his eyes. 
“Well, I think you’re the best girl at Hawkins, and that’s what matters,” he said. “Listen to me: I really care about you, and I hate that these letters are making you so… Uncomfortable.”
“They’re not making me uncomfortable,” you said. “I like them. I’m just annoyed that I don’t know who it is.” 
Eddie slowly stood from his throne, and he moved towards you carefully, like he was afraid that he was going to startle you. “You are beautiful,” he told you. “And you’re funny. And that guy is right, you’re enough to drive a man crazy. And you have, princess, you’ve made me completely mad.” 
You huffed out a wary laugh. “Eddie, what the fuck?” you chuckled, but you were stunned silent when he reached forward and took your hand. 
Eddie took a deep breath, his chest heaving with it, and he said, “I wrote those letters. All of them. Every single one.”
Your heart dropped, and you stepped away from Eddie. “No you didn’t,” you said. “If you liked me, you would’ve just told me.”
“And I wanted to,” Eddie said. “But I was shy and scared. I was terrified that you would reject me, so I… I found a way you couldn’t reject me.” 
Your mouth felt dry, and you felt warm under Eddie’s gaze. “Eddie,” you uttered. “Y-You didn’t really… You’re not…” 
“I can prove it,” Eddie said quickly. He went back to his throne and grabbed his metal lunchbox from the floor, and he opened it up to pull out several scraps of notebook paper, the same ones that your letters came on. You recognized it as the same, because the blue lines were a little smudged— a defect from the notebook itself. “Look, here was me drafting today’s letter during free period, I rewrote it so many times before I got the version I gave you.” 
“B-But,” you stammered. “Your handwriting…”
“I wrote them with my left hand,” Eddie told you. “I knew you’d recognize my handwriting.”
You felt suffocated as you sorted through the scraps of paper from Eddie’s lunchbox, and you grabbed them and held them in a tight fist. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, tears threatening your eyes. Under any other circumstance, you would have thought it was funny, but your emotions twisted deep in your gut. You had to tell him that the feeling was mutual. “Ed, I wouldn’t have—”
“You wouldn’t have made fun of me?” Eddie supplied, tightening his arms over his chest. “The only girl I hang out with and I fall head over heels for you, how cliche is that? I-I would want you to make fun of me.”  
“No, Eddie, stop,” you said. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I wouldn’t have rejected you.” 
That stopped Eddie dead in his tracks. His fingers played with the ends of his hair, pressing them to his lips, and he finally mumbled out, “Really?” 
“Of course not, Ed,” you told him. Your chest burned with the confession, and you stepped closer to him, taking his hand back. “I really like you. Y-You’re so… Right. You’re just right for me.”
Eddie seemed shocked, taken aback, but his hand stayed in yours tightly. “Really?” he asked. “But I’m… Me.”
“And that’s why I like you,” you said. “You’re so weird and you’re so sweet and… And I’m glad it’s you. I wanted it to be you.” 
Eddie smiled for the first time, and he stepped closer to you until you could nearly hear his heartbeat. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “I told you that’s the first thing I’d do, is kiss you.”
“Please,” you whispered, and Eddie didn’t waste any time. His hand went to the back of your neck and tugged you into his body, and he kissed you, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. Your hands floated up, and you touched your palms to his chest as you kissed him back. 
You loved the way Eddie kissed you, passionate but not hungry, sweet but not needy, his fingers touching your hair. His mouth felt so nice against yours, and you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie tilted his head and his hands went down to your waist, tugging you fully against his body as his tongue carefully snaked into your mouth. 
You finally broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and he gave you a wide smile. “Can you keep leaving me those little notes?” you asked. “I really like them. But maybe you can sign them with your name now.” 
“Of course,” Eddie said, and he kissed you once more. “I’m glad you liked them.”
“I do,” you told him, and you placed a quick kiss on his mouth. “Um, maybe you could come by my house tonight. We could… I don’t know, hang out.” 
Eddie smiled. “Sure thing, princess. Give me one more kiss, then you gotta go. Don’t wanna leave Henderson waiting too long.”
You smiled and draped your arms over Eddie’s shoulders, and you kissed him one last time, admiring the taste of him as his tongue claimed your mouth again. He tasted like cigarettes and like the distinctive tang of skin, but it was wonderful no matter what. “Hey,” Eddie whispered when the kiss broke, and his big hand lightly captured your cheek. “You wanna be my girlfriend?” 
“Of course,” you told him. “Oh, Eddie, I’d love to.” 
“Good,” Eddie said softly, his cheeks turning red. “Good, I’m glad. Umm… I’ll see you later tonight.” 
You didn’t leave Dustin waiting for much longer, even though you could have stayed in the drama club room and kissed Eddie for hours. True to your word, you stopped at McDonalds on your way to Dustin’s house, and you sat in the car and ate with him. “What did Eddie wanna talk to you about?” Dustin asked, munching on a fry. “He seemed really intense.” 
You shrugged. “Nothing,” you said. “Just asking about an assignment for a class.”
“Eddie…” Dustin began. “Asked you… about homework?” 
“Why do you doubt me?” you asked, shoving him playfully. “What else would we be talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Dustin started, obviously having made a list. “D&D, maybe? C’mon, what were you guys really talking about? We both know that Eddie would never ask about homework.”
“Why do you wanna know so badly?” you asked. “Why isn’t it enough to just… Not know? Or care?”
“You know me, I have to care,” Dustin told you. “Spill it. What’s up?”
You sighed, looking down at the pack of chicken nuggets in your lap, and you chewed your lip. You knew that Dustin could be trusted with the truth and not to tell anyone else, and something in your chest made you giddy when you considered saying it out loud for the first time. But, did Eddie want Dustin to know? “I’ve been…” you started. “Getting some letters. Like, little love notes in my locker. Like the one I showed you, only way more than just one. Just stuff about how I’m pretty and everything, whatever, right? Eddie was with me when I got the one today, and he was just asking me about the note. Nothing major at all.” 
“Why does Eddie care about love notes?” Dustin asked. “Who are they from? Is he jealous?”
“They’re anonymous, just like the first one,” you told him. “I don’t know who’s writing them or why… Well, why, obviously they like me, but—”
“Can I see one?” Dustin asked. 
“Fuck off!” you huffed with a smile. “No, you cannot, that’s personal and private.”
“But Eddie read one.”
“Because he grabbed it from my hand,” you told him. “Eddie doesn’t care about personal and private, you know that.”
“So why did he ask to talk to you privately, if he doesn’t care about private?” Dustin asked. 
“I don’t know,” you said. Annoyance was starting to bubble in your stomach, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re asking too many questions, you’re starting to act like you’re my little brother. See if I ever bring you to McDonalds after school again.” 
Dustin didn’t seem satisfied with the way you suddenly ended the conversation, but he didn’t pry any further. The rest of the car ride was mostly silent, save for Dustin thanking you when you got him home, and he added, “If you find out who’s sending those notes, let me know, okay? I’m invested in the mystery now.” 
“Sure thing, Dusty,” you told him. “I’ll see you later.” 
The rest of the evening was slow as you waited. You had no idea when Eddie would show up or in what fashion, and you tried to distract yourself until you could see him. You finished your homework, you watched television with your parents, you did everything you could think of, and no Eddie. You knew he wasn’t the type to show up at your front door, holding flowers or something cheesy like that, but you didn’t know exactly what to expect. 
Your answer came after you went to bed, around midnight. You had given up hope of Eddie actually showing up, and your heart raced in your chest. Did he mean it? Did he mean any of it? Or was he just playing a prank, kissing you and fucking with you for fun? It didn’t seem like the type of guy that Eddie was, but your anxiety didn’t let you think any differently. 
You had already settled in bed, trying not to cry because of the whole ordeal, but a light tinkling on your window made you look up from your pillow. It wasn’t raining, you knew that much, and you slowly got out of bed and went to your window. The streetlight cast a shadow through your curtains, and your heart soared when you recognized Eddie’s frizzy curls in silhouette. 
Quickly, you threw back your curtains and were met with Eddie’s smiling face, and you wrenched open the window to get him inside. “My parents are asleep,” you told him softly. “But they’re upstairs.” 
“Good to know,” Eddie said, his smile still a mile wide, and he climbed through your window and wrenched it back closed. Finally, with a sigh, he turned to you, and he, sighing, said, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I had some shit I had to deal with.” 
“It’s fine,” you told him. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 
“Glad to hear it,” Eddie said, and he stepped closer, into your space. “Can I please kiss you?” 
“Oh, is that what you wanna do?” you asked with a cheeky smile, and Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. 
“Well, yeah,” he said. He took your hand and pulled you into his body, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle. “I didn’t sneak in your window at midnight just to shoot the shit, you know? B-But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
“I know,” you assured him. “What if, umm… I-I want to do stuff with you, y’know? I just… I just want you to know…” 
“Know what, princess?” Eddie asked softly. He led you over to the bed and he sat on the edge, and you were quick to straddle his waist and lay a kiss on his mouth. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back, his tongue snaking into your mouth once more, and his hands went comfortably to your waist, his fingers digging under the waistband of your pajama pants to feel your skin. His hand was still cold from the night outside, and you shivered as his hand ghosted around to the front of your pants. “What do you wanna tell me?” 
“I-I mean, you probably figured this out,” you stammered. “I haven’t ever had a boyfriend and guys at school don’t particularly like me, but, umm…” 
“Baby,” Eddie started, his hands readjusting to sit lightly on your ass. “Are you a virgin?” 
You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” you said, and Eddie shook his head quickly, his eyebrows knitting together. 
“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he told you. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m not upset, baby, I promise.” 
“Do you still wanna…” you started, and Eddie started nodding before you could even finish your sentence. 
“Yes, I do,” he told you. “Very much so.” His hands remained gentle on your ass as he leaned forward and buried his face in your neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed over a sensitive spot. “Oh, right there?” he asked as you playfully batted at his head, but then he placed his mouth over the spot and sucked hard, definitely hard enough to leave a mark. 
A gasp left your mouth at the intense feeling that washed through you, and your hands clutched hard at the shoulders of Eddie’s jackets. “Eddie,” you uttered, unable to think of anything more profound to say as you felt heat pooling between your legs. “F-Fuck, Eddie.” 
“I know, princess,” Eddie said softly. “Does that feel good? You like it?”
“Love it,” you told him, and you giggled again when he kissed the spot. 
“Oh, I knew you were sensitive,” Eddie chuckled. “Fuck, I love that. Y’know, I meant it when I wrote that you were beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 
“Shut up,” you said, but Eddie silenced your protests by pressing his teeth into your sweet spot, drawing another gasp from your throat. 
“I won’t,” Eddie mumbled against your neck. “You’re gorgeous, princess. I’ve wanted you for so long.” 
“Have you ever…” you started, unsure how exactly to phrase the question. It burned at your chest though, and you knew that you had to expel it somehow. “Umm… I don’t know… Jerked off? To me?”
Eddie laughed, then, seeing that you were serious, cleared his throat. “I mean,” he began. “I have, yeah. Is that weird?” 
Your heart thumped inside your chest, and you swallowed thickly. You liked the answer and the thought of it, and you shook your head at him. “I don’t think it’s weird,” you told him. “I just… Wanted to know, I guess.” 
“Now you know, baby,” Eddie said. “Have you ever masturbated to me?” 
You shook your head. “I don’t really know how to do it,” you admitted, feeling foolish for your lack of knowledge. 
Eddie’s eyes softened as he cooed at you. “Aw, my sweet girl,” he whispered softly. “I can show you how.” 
“You know how?” you asked, and Eddie shrugged. 
“I know a little bit more than you do,” Eddie told you, and he tapped your temple with a ringed finger. “Silly thing. Get on your back, princess.”
You scrambled off of Eddie’s lap as your pussy did yummy little flips, and you settled yourself against your pillows as Eddie followed. He pressed his hips between your legs, settling himself right against you, and you squirmed a little at the feel of his cool belt buckle touching the inside of your thigh. Eddie swiped a quick kiss on your lips, and his fingers expertly twisted in your pajama shorts and tugged them down your legs slowly. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispered under his breath, his eyes soaking up the sight of you. 
“Shut up,” you mumbled, pressing your hands to your face, and Eddie wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and tugged them away, pressing your wrists into the bed beside your head. 
“No, princess, I won’t,” Eddie told you. “I’ve wanted you for months, I only started the letters after Dustin told me I should—”
“Dustin?” you exclaimed. “This was his idea? He was begging me to tell him this afternoon!” 
“No, no, it was my idea,” Eddie said quickly. “He just encouraged me. But he knew; he always knew.”
“That little shit!” you laughed. “He was doing a good job of acting innocent.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Eddie chuckled, his brown eyes flashing mischievously, and he pressed his hand to your pussy, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your panties. “Only you aren’t acting.” 
“Eddie, baby,” you whimpered, and Eddie put a quick, silencing kiss on your lips. 
“I know, princess,” he said, pouting. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for you to answer; he slipped one of his fingers inside your panties and felt down your leaking slit until his fingertip nudged your hole. Your hips bucked down into your mattress with shock, and Eddie kissed you again. 
“Pay attention,” Eddie told you. “I’m gonna teach you how to do this, okay?” You nodded quickly, and Eddie’s finger glided back up to the top of your cunt. With two fingers, he carefully spread your lips, and his middle finger expertly pressed against a sensitive spot of your flesh. You gasped at the shock of pleasure it sent into your legs, and Eddie grinned. “That’s your clit, baby, okay? Touch that, and be nice with it. Show me what a fast learner you are.” 
“How do I touch it?” you asked, and Eddie lightly circled the pad of his finger along your clit.
“Play with it,” he told you. “Circle it around, like this. Or this…” His finger started differently then, a motion almost like a light flicking towards your belly. That made your hips jut down again, and Eddie chuckled deep in his chest. “Just like that. Show me, baby, touch your clit for me.” 
Your hand shook as you lowered it down your body, and Eddie flopped himself beside you, undoing his belt as he watched you. Your finger definitely felt clumsier than Eddie’s did, a little softer than his too, but your reacted the same way as you copied the flicking motion he had done; you squirmed under your own touch, playing with your clit until you felt it throb with every pass of blood through your veins. 
“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, his eyes hungrily watching you. “Just like that, princess, I knew you were a fast learner. Keep doing that…” He trailed off, and he was quick to press his mouth to your neck, finding your sensitive little sweet spot again. The throbbing became too much to ignore as he kissed and sucked at your neck, and you finally let out a little whimper. 
“Oh, good,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “Just what I like to hear. So, you can masturbate like that, princess, or…” he paused and lightly let his fingers touch you again, this time circling your leaking hole. Then slowly, he pressed his first finger inside you, past your lips and into your pussy. You whimpered at the odd intrusion, loving every second of it, and Eddie’s kisses touched your neck again. “You can add your fingers. Fuck, you’re tight, aren’t you?” 
Shocks rocked your belly as Eddie’s finger went deeper inside you, deeper than you thought possible, until his knuckle was resting right against your hole, the bull-shaped ring pressing cooly against you. “See, isn’t that nice?” Eddie said softly. “God, you’re so soft.” 
You couldn’t help but whine his name, just a quiet mumble of “Eddie”, and he kissed your neck softly to silence you. “Rub your clit, princess,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “I can make you feel so good.”
You did as he told you, your fingers clumsily playing with the sensitive nerve again, and Eddie curled his finger inside you, pressing the soft pad of his finger into that spongy nerve inside you. A small gasp issued from your mouth, and Eddie’s kisses on your neck became deeper, adding the tips of his teeth, nipping softly at your skin. With the biting at your neck, the stimulation on your clit, and Eddie touching that spot inside you, the experience was almost overwhelming, and you turned your face away from Eddie to keep him from seeing the tears in your eyes. 
“No, no, princess,” Eddie said, and his free hand lightly touched your cheek, turning you back to him. “Baby, why’re you crying? Are you okay?” 
You sniffled and nodded. “J-Just feels good,” you stammered. “I-I’m okay.”
“Do we need to stop?” Eddie asked, his face etched in concern. 
“No!” you cried. “Don’t stop, Eddie, please don’t stop.” 
Eddie nodded, satisfied with your answer, and your chest warmed at his sentiments. He was worried about you. You loved that he had noticed that something was wrong and immediately asked after you. It was endearing, and only proved to you how much he liked you. Or, as he had said as he read the letter… “Do you love me, Ed?” you whispered. 
“Of course I do, princess,” Eddie told you, kissing your cheek. “I’m crazy for you, you’re my special girl.”
“Okay,” you whispered. “I just wanted to know.”
“Do you love me?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him to see his eyes wide and owlish, hopeful for a good answer. 
“Yeah,” you told him. “I love you, Eddie, I really do.” 
“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Eddie laughed, seeming almost nervous, like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Are you okay if I add another finger? Will that be too much?” 
“Please,” you told him. As good as his finger felt, you wanted more. You needed more, you needed as much as Eddie was willing to give you. “Eddie—”
He added his second finger inside you without much warning, and the stretch made you whimper in pain. It was painful exactly, but it burned, and you writhed under his grip. “I know, baby,” Eddie pouted. “It feels weird, I’m sorry. But it’ll be better soon, it’ll all feel better soon.” 
Slowly, his fingers worked to fuck you, gently sliding in and out of you as his fingertips grazed that spot inside you. All the while, you were still clumsily playing with your clit. It felt good, but you knew that Eddie could make it a hundred times better, and you whispered, “E-Eddie, oh, fuck… Touch me, Eddie, please, please…”
“Where do you want me to touch you?” Eddie asked. “Use your words, princess, where do you want me?” 
“Touch my clit,” you mewled, your back arching in time with him driving his fingers home inside you. You cried out at the pleasure that hit your belly, and you grabbed hard at your bedsheets. “Eddie!” 
“Shh, princess,” Eddie whispered, laughing lightly. “Don’t want your parents hearing you.” His free hand lightly nudged yours away, though, and his skilled fingers started in on your clit, rubbing it better than you ever could. Your pussy throbbed as he started, clenching around his fingers, and Eddie smiled. “Yes, baby, good girl,” he mumbled. “Are you close? Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” 
Your mind felt cooked, not wanting to work or form words coherently, and you could only manage to whisper, “Eddie.”
“I think that’s a yes,” Eddie chuckled. “Come on, baby, just tell me before you cum. You’re such a good girl, I can’t wait to get inside you.” 
The reminder of what was yet to come made your stomach do flips, and you moaned softly as his fingers sped up. With his speed came a new sensation, one that made your thighs and legs shake, and you whimpered out and turned your head to press your mouth to his. Eddie kissed you back instantly, kissing you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth, and he fucked you on his fingers, the wet sounds of your pussy almost worringly loud. 
A jolt of electricity hit your body, making your toes curl, and you moaned into Eddie’s warm mouth. “Eddie,” you gasped. “You’re gonna make me cum—”
“Do it, baby,” Eddie told you. “Cum, baby, you can do it.”
He only had to fuck you once more, his thumb rubbing your clit harshly and quickly, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your moan as you gushed all over his fingers. He watched you greedily, drinking up the sight of you as you shook and writhed under his touch, and he carefully pulled his fingers from inside you. Your bedroom was lit only by your bedside lamp, but you could still see your cum glistening on his fingers, and you watched as he licked at his fingers, cleaning himself up. “Good girl,” he whispered, his free hand smoothing down your hair. “You did so well, I’m proud of you. Mmm, and you taste so good too.”
“Will you fuck me?” you asked, and Eddie smiled. 
“Not tonight, princess,” he told you, and your eyebrows furrowed as you whined. “Oh, don’t start with that, baby. It’s your first time, and I want it to be special. I wanna take you on a date and do all that cheesy shit before I really take your virginity. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, Ed.”
“I love you too, princess,” Eddie said. “C’mere, I wanna hold you.” 
You squirmed closer to Eddie, and you pulled your panties back on as his arm snaked around your waist. He smelled good, like cheap cologne, and you turned and buried your face in his chest. His hand soothingly rubbed your back, lightly scratching with his dull fingernails, and you licked your lips as a question came to you. “Does Dustin really know about the letters?” you asked, and Eddie smiled.
“I never let him help write them,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t know what they say. I don’t even think he knew that I did it all the time, I think he only knew of the first one.” 
“He’s such a little shit,” you giggled. “I’m gonna kill him.” 
“Not if I do it first,” Eddie said, and he pressed a kiss to your head. 
“Maybe we can kill Dustin together?” you offered, and Eddie laughed, a genuine thing deep in his chest. 
“Whatever you want, princess,” Eddie told you. “I’d do anything for you.” 
9K notes · View notes
k1ngdom-of-thieves · 10 months
Note
I've had this in my mind for the longest time now so here goes!
Riddle, Leona, and Malleus has a crush on MC, and one day they find MC trying to write... *gasp* a love letter! But they went "Oh, that isnt right... Maybe I'll find the words later." and tried to throw it away, only for it to end up in the boys' hands. How would they react when they realize the letter is addressed to them?
Thank you for sending an ask! Thank you so much for your patience.
Riddle, Leona, and Malleus + Finding Reader writing a love letter!
Riddle Rosehearts
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Riddle isn’t usually one to pry, especially when it involves affairs that don’t involve him, but you looked like you needed help writing a letter. Something he could definitely help with if you needed help articulating words.
When he saw you toss it away, he was a little confused but ultimately decided to leave it alone. That was until he noticed his name written in cursive on the front of the paper.
Does he know that’s incredibly invasive? Yes, but you seemed really stressed out over something you could just tell him yourself. He was a smidge worried.
So he reads the letter and is shocked with the revelation of you having a crush on him. He read it multiple times, trying to see if this was a joke or not. After thinking about it for a while, he decided to just go up to you and ask.
“Do you have a moment? I’d like to know if you were also interested in me? Pardon me for being so blunt, but I feel it’s best to just it off of my chest. *He then chuckles nervously*”
Leona Kingscholar
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Leona also usually doesn’t get into people’s business, mostly because you couldn’t pay him to care. But he sees Grim pulling on your sleeve towards him with a letter in your hand in the distance and he starts to believe that this might become his business soon.
He didn’t move a muscle. If you were gonna come to him, then he’d talk to you about it. However, he thought it was kinda funny to just watch you try to avoid this.
You manage to get Grim to drop it and you guys go off to buy tuna. What you didn’t notice was that the letter had fallen from your hands and Leona picked it up. He says that he was gonna get up anyway, but you know that’s bs.
He reads the letter with a smug expression on his face, and chuckles to himself as he finishes reading. He now sets off to let you know your so called “one-sided feelings” aren’t actually so one-sided.
“Hey, herbivore. You could’ve just said you like me. Didn’t need to do a whole song and dance about trying to avoid it.”
Malleus Draconia
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Malleus watched as you crumpled up yet another piece of paper, wondering what could possibly make you this nervous and upset. In fact, he was just about to get up and ask when you got up and left the library.
The fae walked over to where you were sitting and picked up one of the papers. He justified to himself that he was just cleaning up, but in reality he was just nosy. He started to read one and was surprised to see that they were all addressed to him. He picked up another letter, and just like he thought, it was also meant for him.
After he finished reading one of the more complete letters, he felt his face flush and his heart beat a little faster. His favorite human had feelings for him? Was this a dream?
He knew that he had to come to you right away, but decided that he should also write his feelings in a little letter. The man thought the idea was simply adorable.
So, he walked up to you as usual and gave you the letter with an expectant look. His eyes lit up as you became increasingly flustered reading his letter.
“So child of man, am I safe to assume we share the same feelings? There would be no greater honor than being yours.”
1K notes · View notes
nsharks · 1 year
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it's safe here | simon “ghost” riley
words: 2.6k
plot: simon says “I love you” for the first time.
tags: a little bit of smut, mostly fluff and love, reads well with my previous fics, death mention, fem!reader
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Ghost didn’t know if love was something he was allowed to have.
It didn’t seem like it.
There were three people who had received proclamations of love from him, and all three of those people ended up killed. It seemed Ghost’s love had as deadly of a touch as his hands. His love was tainted and dirty; he could run his hands under a faucet and watch the blood swirl down the drain, but all the death he’d caused wouldn’t follow it.
He’d told himself it was just sex with you. In the beginning, that’s all it had been, right? Sex and scarce kisses and long drives around the city where he’d just listen to you talk.
You’d ran into him one night on your bicycle (almost quite literally), and then somehow two years later, he was waking up to your soft toes poking his thigh and your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom.
It wasn’t just sex, of course—
—not when Ghost found himself dreaming about you and asking you to stay over every night.
The thing was, he’d never felt lonely before you. Ghost quickly realizes that loneliness requires the knowledge of what good company feels like; ever since he met you, solitude became painful. It’d stick its teeth in him and gnaw and chew until he gave in, calling you sometimes in the middle of the night.
Can’t sleep without you, pet.
It started with those late night calls, which turned into you practically moving in after six months, and then officially, after over a year, Ghost asked you to be his girlfriend.
Well, he didn’t ask, really.
Ghost never had a girlfriend before so he didn’t know better.
“My girlfriend doesn’t like pickles,” he had said one day when you went out to grab lunch. You’d told him it was okay, you’d eat it anyway, but he shook his head and called the waiter over. “Can you fix this, please?”
“Simon, you just called me your girlfriend,” you’d said once your food came back, utterly stunned.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Since when did you ask me?”
“Ask you?” he furrowed his brows. “Do I need to ask ya?”
“Well… usually that’s what people do.”
He cleared his throat and tried again, grumbling, “Be my girlfriend.”
It was more of an order than a question, but you said yes, anyway.
That was months ago and Ghost still hadn’t mentioned anything about love. You hadn’t even seen your boyfriend without his mask fully off, or seen his unclothed body in proper lighting.
Until his birthday. A day that Ghost normally doesn’t celebrate because he’d had such traumatic experiences on it as a kid.
Somehow— with that strange ability you seem to possess— you manage to turn something dark and twisted into something pure and new.
_____
You plan a surprise for him.
Last year, you’d missed his birthday because Simon didn’t tell you about it. But now you know when it is, you’ve marked all your calendars, and you secretly figured out what flavor cake he preferred (had to bring home different slices from the store and leave them on the counter to see which he ate the most of).
When Simon comes home from the gym, he’s showered with what can only be described as love.
He sees the balloons on the floor, all ten of them that you blew up yourself, and then the cake on the table that’s got some frosted words in your handwriting.
And then there’s you.
It feels like his life has been many miles worth of nighttime and now, it’s breakfast. The sun is up, and he sees it in your eyes as you beam at him.
“Surprise, Simon,” you smile, cheeks rosy and matching the dress you’ve got on. “Happy birthday.”
“You did this fo’ me?” Simon asks slowly. He sets his gym bag on the floor.
You’re worried you’ve overwhelmed him. Romantic gestures are not something he’s used to giving or receiving, but he’s been slowly warming up to them over the course of your relationship.
You tuck your hair behind your ears and nibble your cheek. “Well, it’s your birthday, and we didn’t do anything for it last year. I just thought that you might-“
“Y/N,” he stops you. “It’s… nice.” Simon is terrible at this. He swears under his breath, “Fuck, it’s lovely.”
“There’s something else,” you say carefully. “The cake is for later. I’ve got a little supper packed for us.”
“Packed for what?”
You don’t explain. Instead, you grab the sack you’ve packed and a folded blanket and guide him outside. Simon’s house— the one you’ve moved into with him— sits on a quiet, gravel road with few neighbors. The town’s edge is still and the skies grow grey as you walk together. He is confused when you stop at a seemingly random spot, just near a rose bush, and you lay down the blanket you’ve brought.
“This is the spot where we first met.”
He hears the words leave your mouth but he’s so focused on your lips that he doesn’t quite process them.
“The…” Simon looks around and the memory comes into view. “Christ- right here, was it? With your bike?”
Simon is overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. The two of you sit there, having a picnic in the middle of this quiet backstreet where you nearly ran into him, and he listens to you talk because, as usual, he’s at a loss for words. You tell him about the process of making the cake, and how you had to try three times before it came out right. All the while, his heartbeat is thick in his chest and he’s wondering how did this happen?
It feels like yesterday he was pushing you away, playing a sick game of trying to guess when you’d finally give up on him. Simon knew he made things hard; he could be angry, demanding, and painfully reserved. But you were so patient with him, held him close during his nightmares and never pried about the mask he felt dependent on.
Now today, in this moment, you are his girlfriend, and you have planned the first real birthday he’d had in years. He doesn’t plan on pushing you away—
—as you keep talking, Simon’s brain runs through all the ways he can think of to keep you close.
Then, it starts to rain.
“I was worried this would happen,” you sigh when the first few drops hit you. “Come on, we can finish at home—“
You’re getting up when a hand reaches for your arm and tugs you back down.
“Wait. Hold on.”
The gentle request is uncharacteristic of him. That tone of voice only makes an appearance when he’s with you, because you’ve had Simon doing things he never imagined doing since the beginning of your entanglement.
For one, he never kissed people before you. Once or twice when he was a teenager, but he never really cared for it- now, Simon thinks he’s obsessed with how your mouth fits against his, soft and delicate.
He pushes up the edge of his mask, just below his nose, and covers your lips with his before you can question it.
The rain is unforgiving, growing heavier, but both of you are too focused on each other.
Simon cups your damp cheeks and holds your face firmly while kissing you, slow and deep. Thoughtful swipes of his tongue that pry your lips apart so he can explore and take in every detail, every taste.
There are words exchanged in this kiss that he struggles to say. Doesn’t know what language to translate his feelings into.
Thank you? No. You’re all I have? No. I can’t believe you did this all for me?
But you know what language to use. You’ve known for some time now, and as you pull away from the kiss and lean your damp forehead against his now-soaking mask, you let yourself finally whisper:
“I love you.”
_____
Simon doesn’t say it back.
You were kind of expecting as much, but still, it stings. You’d played all the scenarios in your head of how this first time telling him you love him could’ve gone; the two of you walking back in an uncomfortable silence, clothes soaked, wasn’t one of them.
You also don’t expect him to be visibly frustrated. Simon‘s got the wet blanket in his arms, his eyes are dark and unreadable, and his body is tense.
When you get to the house, you’re quick to run to the bathroom, eager for a hot shower that will hopefully wash off the burn of his silence and mask the tears you’d been holding. You don’t even feel embarrassed about telling him; just defeated. He kissed you like he loved you, held you like he loved you—
—why couldn’t he just say it?
In the house, Simon follows after you, knocking his knuckles to the bathroom door just after you’ve peeled off your clothes.
“Let me in?” he requests hoarsely.
Holding your breasts in your arms, you use the excuse, “I’m naked.”
“So?”
Reluctantly, you unlock the door and dig your teeth in your lip as he steps in. Your body is cold from being wet and he’s still got his soaked clothes on, not caring that he’s leaving a little trail of water behind.
Simon’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as he looks over your naked body and then gets the shower running. You stand there confused, but he grabs your hands and guides them to the hem of his wet shirt, the notch in his throat visibly tight.
He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand; you start helping him undress, carefully and hesitantly, because he has never let you do this before.
You peel the shirt up his torso and his chest is revealed under the bright bathroom lights, allowing you a view of every scar etched around a every tattoo, the burns on his side that you’d never gotten a good look at before, and the trail of coarse hair down his navel. The bare skin is cold and blissful under your fingertips.
You swallow, “Your belt.”
Hands reaching for it, Simon helps you with the contraption before you’re able to tug down his jeans. His legs are exposed to you and you quickly realize they are equally marked. A burn scar consuming his left thigh. A deep scar just above his knee. He’s got tattoos on his calves that you’ve never seen before until now.
Simon is completely naked before your eyes.
You can tell it makes him nervous. This brooding man who’d kill more people than you wanted to know, shifts uncomfortably and flickers his eyes to the light switch, probably itching to turn it off and hide himself. But he wills himself not to— for you.
“Simon,” you lay your hands on his chest, feel how strong his heart is. “I… love you. All of you.”
You’re the one who leads your hands to the hem of his mask. It’s soaked and probably uncomfortable, and your fingertips dance underneath it as if to ask for permission. When Simon doesn’t push your hands away, you swallow and pull the fabric up.
Up all the way this time. Up past his stubbled chin, his lips, his nose, and then his eyes.
He let’s you do it. Let’s you peel the mask over his hair and then fold it on the towel rack for it to dry. After two years, Simon trusts you fully— completely.
And you; you are in love with him. So much so that it didn’t really matter what face was under that mask, as long as it was his face.
Once in the shower, Simon bends down to bury his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. Hot water enveloping you.
“You’re handsome,” you tell him.
“I know, pet.”
There’s a smirk that you feel against your neck. Your fingers dig into the skin of his back, the muscles still tense, but you’re glad to see his frustration is gone.
Mumbling into your skin, he says quietly, “I want to fuckin’ say it.”
Your heart flutters. “Say it then. It’s… it’s okay to say it.”
But Simon isn’t convinced. Has anyone ever survived hearing him say it? Is he allowed to have these feelings?
“If I say it,” he grumbles, “Then… bad things could happen to ya.”
“No,” you shake your head, “Bad things won’t happen. It’s safe here.” You promise to him softly, running your hands through his wet hair and drawing circles at the nape of his neck. You understand what holds him back now, what has been holding him back for the longest time, and it makes your chest ache.
“It’s safe here,” you repeat when he doesn’t respond. “You can say it, Simon. It’s just me.”
He runs his rough hands up and down your back, keeping you impossibly close to him in the small space of the shower (which he takes up most of). Then, he gently pushes you against the wall and presses one hand above your head, pulling his face away from your neck so you can see him.
You feel Simon against your thigh. Hot and heavy, it’s not a surprise that’s he’s hard.
But he’s focused on your lips. Thumb pressing gently to them, he studies your face and swallows his hesitation and breathes deeply through his nose to muster up his confidence.
Then, with a flicker of fear in his eyes, he whispers, “I… I love you, too.”
He says it so quietly that you think he’s scared of someone else hearing him. All of the dark thoughts cut through his eyes and he looks around wildly. But it’s only you there; there has only ever been you. You think you could cry from the relief of it all. The weight has been lifted now that he has opened himself to you and you have stripped yourself open for him, heart hanging out.
Then, his eyes make it back to yours and he sighs in relief.
Soon, you’re kissing up against the wall, eager and starved with hands that fumble around to touch every inch of each other. He takes you against the wall like this, fingers uncharacteristically fumbling as he guides himself to your folds, so you grab his length and help him. The press of him is so deep inside you that it’s consuming, and all you can think of is how he reaches a part of you that no one else ever had or will.
Your hands are in his wet hair, clawing and whimpering. “Simon.”
“I know.” He moves his lips to your neck and kisses up along it. Hands cupping your thighs, he hooks your legs around his waist so all of your limbs now cling to him. You don’t mind. If you could, you’d invent a way to be even closer to him. “I’ve got ya.”
You both say the words again somewhere in the midst of it all.
And then, Simon finishes in you with a muffled groan, softly biting your collarbone when he feels you tighten around his cock. But he doesn’t pull out. You stay like this for awhile, legs wrapped around him and his cock still nestled inside you. There’s mumbled words and quiet touches as you both linger in this moment, one that you’ve waited patiently for for two years. A moment that was once Simon’s biggest, most secret fear.
____
Simon doesn’t wear the mask for the rest of his birthday.
He says it’s because it’s still wet, but you hope it’s because he feels safe without it.
You both change into your pajamas after the shower, but it takes awhile to fully get them on because he ends up taking you on the bed, too. Can’t seem to keep his hands off you, with constant, gentle kisses and gropes to your waist. He touches you like he thinks you might disappear if he doesn’t.
Simon loves you. You carry around this fact with a glow to your cheeks. Even though he would leave you soon, for months, you’d have these words to hold on to and keep you warm.
“You really made this?” Simon asks when you cut him a piece of cake.
You snuggle up on the couch and share it together.
You hum and nod. “Pretty good, right?”
“Pretty good,” he mumbles in agreement, tugging you to his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder. Then, he adds softly, “Might have to keep you around long enough for my next birthday.”
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duckwithablog · 1 year
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⋰ ⊹˚. ♡ Alone on Valentines? ⋰ ⊹˚. ♡
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I was halfway done before most of this got deleted. I am going to scream cry and convulse on the floor. As it's way to late for me to be awake rn, I'll just do this in two parts, for the sake of my sanity </33
I know for a fact that most of us are probably gonna be spending this Valentine's alone, reading fanfic, and honestly same. But let's imagine for a second that that isn't the case.
The turtles react to you being alone on Valentines Day
GN reader, romantic, crushing/pining, fluff
Raphael
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flabbergasted
like that's his initial reaction
i imagine that you guys would just be chilling in the lair, talking, and you slip out that you might be spending valentine's alone
he goes "oh, okay!" before he double takes and says
"wait- really?"
he honestly thought that you would've had a date for valentine's this year
because like... why wouldn't you? you're so attractive, and charming, and lovable, who wouldn't want to date you?
no matter how you feel about being alone (unbothered, sad, etc etc) raph will do everything he can to make you feel better
you don't deserve to be alone! no one does!
so he proudly states that "if you don't have anyone to spend the day with, then raph'll spend it with you! there! now you won't be alone anymore."
he says this all with this big smile
doesn't realize that he basically just asked to be your date
you realize it tho
ofc, you say yes, because who can say no to raph?
and raph just nods to himself, proud, before he processes what he just said
oh. he just scored a date with you.
jaw drops at this realization. OH. HE JUST SCORED A DATE. WITH YOU.
BY ACCIDENT??
vows to make this the best valentine's you'll ever experience
it might be hard, being a giant turtle and all, but by pizza supreme is he gonna try his best anyways
Donatello
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bro you didn't even tell him this information
he literally eavesdropped on your conversation with april while he was nearby
pretends to be really engrossed in whatever he was doing while he strains to listen to what you guys are saying
is also confused when he finds out. according to his statistics, you have plenty of qualities that make you attractive. so why are you spending valentine's alone?
forgets that the data he used to make said statistics are based off of his experiences with you. He then considers that maybe not everybody got butterflies in their stomach whenever you were around
BRO HAD TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT NOT EVERYONE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU LMAO
when april leaves the room, he internally goes aha! an opportunity! and tries to make a move
he acts cool as he talks to you, but don't be fooled, he is internally combusting
not so subtly suggests that you should spend valentine's in the lair with him instead of being alone. tells you that not all love is romantic, and as... friends... you guys have a right to celebrate today as well
damn he is not making this easier on himself
of course, his brothers and april are gonna be there too!! obviously!!
you get to spend time with all of them.
... mostly with donnie, though. especially with donnie.
if you agree, he'd say "perfect! shall we call it a date, then?"
say yes. the look on his face and the growing blush on his cheeks is so worth it
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hotchs-big-hands · 10 months
Text
What did you call me?
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words
Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader
NSFW Minors dni please
Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.
When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅
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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.
"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.
"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"
"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.
"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."
The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.
"Oh? Do tell us more."
"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.
"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."
Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.
"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.
Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.
A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.
"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.
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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.
Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.
"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.
"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.
"You're distracted."
Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.
"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.
"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.
"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.
"Anything I can do to help?"
You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.
"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.
"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."
You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.
"Thank you, sir."
You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.
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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.
"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"
You nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.
"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."
You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.
"Sorry, I'll drink slower."
JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.
Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.
"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.
"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.
"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.
"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"
You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.
"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"
"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."
More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.
"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."
You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.
"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.
"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.
"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.
"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.
"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.
"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."
Your eyes widened in horror.
"Excuse me?"
Spencer cleared his throat.
"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.
"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."
Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.
It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.
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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.
"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.
"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.
The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.
"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.
"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.
"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.
"She doesn't scare me."
"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."
"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.
"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."
You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.
"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.
"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."
A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.
"I'm not getting involved."
Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.
"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.
"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.
"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."
In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.
Oh.
You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.
Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.
"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.
"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.
"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"
The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.
"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."
Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.
"I know that."
"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"
"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."
You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.
"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.
"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.
"I know."
You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.
"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."
Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.
"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.
The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.
There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.
You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.
"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.
"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.
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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.
Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.
Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.
Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.
"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?
You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.
"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."
You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.
"What's wrong?"
Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.
"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."
You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.
"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.
"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.
"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."
Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.
"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.
"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."
He raised a brow at you.
"Really now?"
Your eyes widened and you stuttered.
"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.
"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."
A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.
"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.
"Good night, sir."
He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.
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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖
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angularbean · 2 months
Text
Swollen [Alastor x Reader]
A self-indulgent piercing fic d: ⋆⋆
Alastor lounged on one of the velvet couches located in the lobby. He often found himself here. A mug of black coffee in his right hand, and a newspaper in the other. While there was clearly more modern ways to indulge in the news of hell; but there was comfort in the within the black and white paper.
Even then, he couldn't focus on the article before him. Through the corner of his eye, he watched you. There you sat, prettily. Animatedly conversing with two other patrons of the hotel. Husker and Angel, mostly Angel, eagerly listening for every detail of your story. The deer demon didn't understand it. Why was it that no matter what he was doing or how busy he was, his eyes always found you. Watching everything you did. Was it the way you almost always smiled when you talked? Eyes and nose crinkling as you did.
How cute.
It must of been the way you laughed, the angelic noise falling from those puffy lips. He mentally shook his head, refusing to accept his inner turmoil, angelic it was not.
Obnoxious. Yes, that was it.
It was the boisterous laughter and conversation that caught his attention. Not you. Definitely not you.
Your laugh echoed through the lobby.
His eyebrows furrowed, how annoying. The quiet, tranquil atmosphere he longed to indulge in quickly fading. He could leave and make his way to his room, or even his radio station. Yet, he made no effort to leave. He already made himself comfortable, Alastor convinced himself he could tolerate the noise. Eyes scanning your form one last time before shifting their focus to the paper before him. Determined to finish the article he had been reading before you oh so rudely disrupted.
"Holy shit, toots. Yer' lip piercings, they're bleedin'."
Alastors ears perked up, his eyes shooting over to where you sat at the bar. You accepted the napkin Husker offered to you, dabbing your lips. From afar, Alastor finally noticed the change in jewelry. Instead of the studs, your lips adorned silver rings.
The first thing Alastor noticed upon meeting you was the jewelry you adorned. Silver rings cluttered along your fingers. Necklaces stacked around your pretty neck. The red jewel reflecting light, catching Alastor's gaze. He loved that necklace you always wore; how it coincidentally matched him.
Red looks perfect on you.
He noticed how your ears adorned several pieces of jewelry, and how every once in a while, a new piece would be added. Your cute nose defamed by the needle as well. A septum and nostril piercing, that's what you called them anyways.
Alastor couldn't help but roll his eyes at the amount of needless punctures in your body. He didn't understand it, not that he really tried to anyways. You claimed the so called piercings were there to enhance your favorite features, but what was there to enhance?
You were already absolutely divine.
He remembers when you arrived back to the hotel with the new addition to your growing collection. Swollen lips grinning up at him. His heart fluttering every so slightly, fluttering out of annoyance of course.
"I got too impatient and changed them a little too early. But I absolutely love the rings better."
You grinned at Angel sheepishly.
"I'll admit, sweets, snakebites look amazin' on you. But if you ev’r want spiderbites, I'm 'appy to oblige."
Angel winked. Earning a laugh from you and a roll of the eyes from Husker. Unbeknownst to everyone else, the radio demon’s smile tightened.
“It does make me wond’a though. You got any we can’t see?”
Your face flushed as Angel cackled, Husker immediately scolding Angel at the same time.
Something within Alastor snapped. His clawed hands tightened around the newspaper, causing his fingers to tear through the poor paper. The noise catching the of attention the other three, your eyes meeting his.
He crumbled the newspaper as he stood, quickly regaining his composure. The stag made his way towards the spiral staircase, flashing a bigger smile and bowing his head slightly as he passed you. He only hoped you didn’t notice his quick stride.
But you did.
Your eyes followed Alastor as he ascended the stairs, not looking away until he was fully out of view. You noticed the slight scowl in his endless grin as he stalked away. You, however, did not notice the look Husker and Angel shared.
"Ay, you got a thang fer smiles?!"
Angel jumped from his seat, shaking your shoulders demanding every single detail. Your denials fell upon deaf ears, the flustered look on your face spoke for itself. Husker watched the scene before him, he pitied you. Having romantic feelings for the Radio Demon had to be the ultimate punishment. He wondered what you did in life to deserve that.
--
Alastor found himself in his radio tower, hunched over his desk. After the lobby fiasco, he decided to keep himself busy scripting his next broadcast. He refused to acknowledge what transpired or even why it had the way it. Why should he? He's a heartless, murderous demon after all. Feelings mean nothing to him. They're simply just a waste of his time.
Despite all efforts, his mind still found its way to you. Irritated, he ran a hand through his hair. Grasping tuffs of red as he inwardly groaned in frustration.
Oh how he hated you and the unusual feelings you caused him.
He'd make you pay for it later; his grin painfully widened at the thought.
He stood from his seat, making his way out of the radio tower. The hotel eerily quite, most if not all the patrons retired to their rooms. As he made his way down the endless hallway, his ears perked up at the sound of soft music. Continuing his way down, the music grew louder. He slowed his pace as he passed by an open room. Soft jazz music emitted from an run down radio in the corner of the room, and there you lay on another velvet couch, surrounded by bookcases. Charlie must have a thing for velvet.
Sensing a presence, your eyes met his. You shut the book you had been reading, a smile dancing on your lips. Your attention fully on him. Just how he liked it.
"Couldn't sleep, darling?"
He strolled into the room, causing you to sit up.
"Yes and no. I just wanted to indulge in some alone time."
You shrugged. While you love and appreciated the new friends you made during your time at the hotel, sometimes you needed time alone to recharge.
"My apologies, it seems that I have interrupted."
Alastor turned to leave, causing you to jump to your feet.
"No, you're totally okay! Feel free to stay!"
You cursed yourself for how desperate you sounded. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you stood your ground.
You missed the way he grinned, gums exposed, upon hearing your desperation. Turning on his heel, he made his way over to you. Stopping only inches in front of you; causing you to crane your head upwards.
"If I didn't know any better, sweetheart, I would think you have a soft spot for me. Hm?"
The demon all but purred. Your heart jumped, eyes darting around. Looking at anything but him. Excuses fell from your lips but he couldn't be bothered to listen. His focus on your lips. How swollen they were. How the bottom of the rings were caked in dry blood. How the rings hugged your bottom lip, something about it drove Alastor mad.
His gaze moving to the rest of your face. Eyebrows furrowed and face flushed. For a minute, he decided to indulge in himself. Alastor placed his microphone like cane under your chin, using it to slightly guide your eyes to his. His other hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your decorated ear. His body seemed to have a mind of its own. Face inching closer to yours, agonizingly slow. Maybe it had been the way you looked at him, or the way your jewelry shone in the soft lighting. You looked so regal.
So vulnerable. So fragile. His lips met yours. Oh how he loved the feeling of the cold metal against his lips. It drove him crazy. His tongue swiped your bottom lip; reveling in the metallic taste. He didn't know if it was the jewelry or the dried blood. Frankly he didn't care. Pulling away, his eyes found yours. As they always did. Your eyes filled with desire, he couldn't help but swell up with pride. He had you wrapped his finger. You both knew that. While Alastor refused to acknowledge his feelings, he wouldn't mind dragging you along until he did. His gazed flickered back down to your decorated lips, thumb swiping along your bottom lip.
"Now, I believe I understand, pet."
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gangplanksorenji · 8 months
Text
A door that’s slightly ajar (and then, I opened them all up)
Pairing: LE SSERAFIM Yunjin x Male Reader
Word Count: 8939
A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Of course, it's the down bad days for me, again and this time, I've been wanting to write something like this, like a student-like fic and here we are! I absolutely love writing this and creating up with titles like this—I really do!!! Also, big thanks for @majorblinks for beta-reading and making some corrections to my mistakes! Thank you so much! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy this fic and see you until the next time again! <3
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It's just another normal day of the week, is it? Yes, it is, and you're tired of it. There's nothing you can do either, unless, doing a significant change that will probably make the day more interesting. Yet, what change can you make? You can't even have one, at the moment, so you'll be back on this redundant day, again.
Thank god that your class dismissed early, and that uplifted your motivation of making that “change”. It was on a Saturday too, maybe it explains why your lecturer feels drowsier than usual—I mean, he already looks like that all of the time but whatever.
You kick your shoes, got your things packed on your bag on a quick two-hour discussion as you rushed your way out, going straight to the cafeteria so you could buy and eat your favorite chocolate-pecan flavored cookies there—and honestly, you don't really spend that much money on miscellaneous things, but those cookies are maybe worth dying for.
You drool in the imagination of it, and you can't wait to taste those.
*something thuds*
You're subtly startled by that sound. There's no ghost (you don't really believe in such, too) nor your friends trying to prank the living life out of you as maybe, you just speculate those are just those reckless students doing whatever they're doing.
“These people…”
Maybe it's because of Saturdays. Weekends are pretty much the busiest days at your end even though it's the time where people set themselves to rest—there's so much contradiction that it outdid itself more than an oxymoron.
Such unnecessary thoughts shall go and fade away, in your mind, at least. Why are you even overthinking about this? Too descriptive? Well, maybe, it's a yes but there's something more descriptive, and that's when you opened your locker, full of those damned textbooks you aren't even bothered to read. Why does it even exist anyways?
Too busy. Too unbothered. Too focused—
“Hello, baby.”
You shout at the sudden figure startling you, almost dropping your textbook and your folder full of your seatworks in the process. You then put them onto your locker and shut the door lock, then averted your unwanted eyes towards the girl in front of you.
“W-What do you want, Yunjin?”
Huh Yunjin. Yes, that's her name and it's classy whenever she gets called “Jennifer”, her English name. She's one of the most popular girls on the whole university thanks to her clever and smart mind, her pretty face and her personality, and her specialty, her ways of captivating the hearts of guys and gals with her charm-filled flirting and here you are, standing right beside her—
“You.” She pokes her finger onto your chest, talking about you and you only.
If this is just one of her games you're sick and tired of playing, you definitely have no time for this, especially since you know how much she'll want to seduce someone under her spell.
“Yunjin, I have no time for this, okay? If you have someth—”
“Why not, hm? Then tell me why you're frequently looking at me in the lecture earlier, baby.”
And yes, you're mostly in the same class with her. Even though maybe it's written in the stars that you're both destined to be in the same class with each other and to top it all off, it’s even with the most stressful subjects known to man. Even with her being an ultimate nuisance—the bane of your silence—there's still a positive side of this: her ability to make everything interesting. Yes, you stole glances with her earlier—then wait, if she knows about this, then she's looking at you often then—
“Then how would know that without stealing glances to me too—”
“Answer my question, baby…” Yunjin whispers to your ear as she extends her right arm, pinning you against the metallic locker behind you and her other arm reaching for your necktie, her eyes burning with desire and lust as she demands an answer escaping from your lips, right here, right now.
“Come on, baby. Answer me—”
“Is it maybe just a coincidence, Yunjin? Get off me—”
“Nu-uh, baby. You can’t escape me.”
Yunjin’s seductive voice never fails to bring you weak, onto your knees as it feels eargasmic to hear, her saccharine tone almost leaving you defenseless. Her firm grip onto your necktie leaves you vulnerable to her and there’s also no way you can escape her, and even if you wanted to and if you were successful, she’ll try her best to catch you. What does she even want from you, anyways? Why would you experience this treatment of hers instead of the other guys on the campus? Why even you?
Well, as much as you want to keep asking yourself those kinds of questions, there’s only one way to find out what she really wants: finding the answer yourself.
“Then, w-what the fuck do you want from me, Yunjin? Can’t you j-just do your thing to the other guys at the campus? Why even m-me?”
Well, if she would help herself on resisting you, she may—
“No—” Yunjin closes her face dangerously towards yours, just inches away from kissing you but you won’t let her. Her minty breath captivates you even more as her tone is the cherry on top—the mixture of sultry of sweet best describes it—but you won’t let yourself fall under the spell of this slut—
“Come on, baby. Don’t you want me, hm?”
Of course, she’ll lure her prey into the abyss of no-return (into the unknown depths of lust) and will get to her desired promised land. She’ll do everything to get what she wants and it even starts right now: her hot breath brushing off on the crook of your neck as she kisses the soft skin right after, letting your defenses crumble down in shambles as she’ll do what it takes to be hers for the time-being.
“I’ll make sure that you’ll never forget this day and…” Yunjin peppers your neck with passionate kisses as it’s not enough to leave a mark, yet enough for you to feel her immediate need for you. “I’ll let you do anything to me, baby.”
Is she really talking about this? Is she for real?
These thoughts linger in your mind as the last sentence turns you on. You know how this may end with Huh Yunjin—you getting in trouble as she gets away with an unscathed and clean record because of her mother being the president of the parent’s organization of the university and… you absolutely hate it. Yes, it’s unfair and you curse yourself on what could happen but how could you deny such a hot girl like Yunjin? Her pretty face, captivating eyes, her plump, kissable lips, her hot figure, spankable ass—there’s just not enough time on how perfect she can be and if you were to be asked, you can’t help but be attracted to her.
Yes, it may sound hypocritical but you meant what you said, or at least, what you thought. Giving in to your desperation and desire, you utter an almost inaudible answer that raises Yunjin's attention towards you.
“O-Okay, Yunjin…”
“Okay what, baby, hm?”
She continues peppering your neck with kisses that drive you insane. Her body is incredibly close towards you and you can't help but moan with the emanating heat she's making you feel. 
She needs further clarification—she wants to hear what you really want and possibly, saying it with your heart out, like, you really meant it.
“More, Yunjin, please…”
Desperate pleas can't go unanswered as Yunjin wasted no time talking but rather in a form of latching. Latching in a way her lips suckled onto the sharp collarbone which earned a moan for you as she knew exactly what you wanted all along—and it's like you won't give in to that damn temptation.
“Like that baby? Like how my lips just… pepper your smooth skin full of kisses, hm?”
“Yes—ahh…”
A soft moan fuels the fire of desire inside her. It was never new but something felt different and new at her end, but she brushes those things off as she averted her whole focus on marking you and kissing you all over.
“I love it when you moan for me, baby. Gladly, we're only getting started.”
Her fingers trace your pristine skin and up to your lips as she shut your moans, not letting any sound escape from it. 
“Well, let's up it an ante, shall we? I'm getting to know you a little more, baby~”
A little seduction is spicy and you fell for the trap that you'll absolutely be grateful of. Between the plethora of all of the possible things she can do to you, she wants only a single thing for now: and that's to feel how soft and good your lips taste, and especially, how they feel onto hers.
Latching her soft lips onto yours, you immediately reciprocate the kiss in probably less than a millisecond and you cherish it in every second possible as her lips are insatiable and tastes incredibly great. It was splendid and passionate, and you couldn't ask for more but the derivation towards lust makes you want more of it—rather, more of her.
Fuck foreplay—that is probably you, right now. 
You're not a big fan of build-ups nor teasing as you're incredibly impatient and it's proven to be tested right now and probably, you despise it—it's also maybe the fact that you're down bad for her at this moment. It's like you can do something to reach for climax immediately as you're deemed powerless, being captivated and allured under her spell, the animalistic urges inside you craving for more but you couldn't, yet. She'll let you drool over her and that only, for now. She's insatiable and you can't wait to get past the rising action. 
If you think about it, it's probably better like this before the main course as you can't help yourself from getting aroused from Yunjin's advances.
“God, you taste really good, baby. Is it your first time getting kissed on the lips, hm?”
“N-no…”
You stutter and she giggles. She finds it rather cute that a man like you gets feeble around her and she smiles on that fact. It's even better because of the fact that you can't do anything to retaliate against her actions and she knows you won't.
“Liar, hehe~ I bet no one kissed you, or—this fucking good, hm?” 
Her stern tone turns you on more than you can imagine as she demands an answer yet the serenity of her voice contradicts the devil—the venom laced between her words of lust and greed.
“Y-yes…”
“Say my name, baby.”
“W-what?”
You're genuinely confused why would she need you to call her name—oh, maybe because she wants to know how much you love her, how much you love her stupidly-hot acts towards you. Her fingers then unbutton the first layer of your uniform swiftly and with you being so oblivious, you didn't notice how she's slowly undressing you.
“W-what do you mean, Yunjin?”
“There you go, baby~ Hmm—mwah. That's for being a good boy, hihi~”
A quick peck on the neck as she hears her name once again escaping from your lips. A quick peck as a result of her wants being attended and letting you know how much she loves this moment. You’re utterly confused but you don’t care—you want her now and no one’s stopping you from that.
“You know, baby—” Yunjin’s hands caresses your back as she feels the heat radiating upon the foreplay that’s happening, and that makes her smile genuinely. “—let’s do this somewhere private, y’know?”
A casual giggle involuntarily caused by her captivating actions escapes her lips. You know where this will be ending and you waste no time leading the way, already miles away, reading her mind.
“I'll lead you to the bathroom then, Yunjin.”
“Then do, baby~”
She then offers her hand gently as you insist on holding it slowly, leading the way to the bathroom. Once you got there, nothing held back as the unstoppable force met the immovable object—both of your lips crashing onto each other, exchanging sloppy kisses towards each other as she moaned from your aggressiveness. 
“Mmph, baby—ahh! You really, really kiss me so good~”
“Not really, you do, Yunjin.”
Yunjin blushed from your heartfelt compliment as you did feel the heat within your cheeks, painting it rosy-pink as you find the kiss so incredibly hot and passionate that you can't help yourself but let the tiger inside you to be unleashed. 
Unleash the beast, as a famous saying says (it clearly reflects what you’re feeling right now) and without containing the ferocity inside you, you unbridle it. Wasting no second, you connect your lips her onto her again, exchanging the sloppiest and the most lustful kisses imaginable and as time advances, there goes the dancing of your tongues, fighting for dominance.
“God—getting so messy with me, baby, hm?”
“Can't help that you're so fucking insatiable, Yunjin.”
She tugged onto your necktie once again as she pulled you towards her, whispering to your ear seductively as it's also enough to send tingles down your spine.
“I feel the same too, baby. You make me feel so good, it's insane~”
The adrenaline inside you is making you unstoppable right now as you can only imagine the possible fantasies of yours coming true, and you can't simply wait to do everything with Yunjin. 
Every. Single. Thing.
She's also cognizant of what will happen next, possibly and surely…
“Ahh—ahh! Baby, right there~ Yes!”
You then latch onto her neck and collarbones, suckling onto the porcelain skin of hers as it's maybe enough to mark her. Her inevitable moans came loose, her sinful releasing the long-shackled lustful cacophony of sex-filled sounds that she can't contain anymore—
“Like it, Yunjin?”
“I fucking love it, baby. I love it when you mark me like you really own me—god, yes!”
She's giving into submission and she inevitably will, slowly, and surely. That's your goal right now, and you'll show off every trick up in your sleeve just to get her into that.
A door is close, way too far and nigh-impossible to reach.
A door is slightly ajar, try to reach it, and eventually you will, then you'll open one and will open more. 
It'll be a domino effect—starting from a single one then will possibly try out everything you can think of.
The door will suddenly close, yet you'll already think of the fact that you've seized those opportunities.
And you'll start right now.
“I want more, Yunjin. Wanna see more—wanna taste more of you.”
Yunjin has that look—that slutty, desperate look of ardor in her eyes and the way it sparkles with lust and anticipation—yes, it's perfect.
“Getting daring, aren't we, baby? Ahh—keep kissing me first. Let them know how much you love it and how much you're mine, baby~ Oh fuck!”
“No, Yunjin—I want more of you, right now.”
Crazy how a sexual desire drives a man into his lowest—a deceitful strength; a vulnerable spot; his cock doing the thinking, and not his brain. Getting daring, you slowly coursed your hands onto the side of Yunjin's plaid skirt, caressing it as you slowly undress her bottom half, wanting to feel and see those meaty thighs—those thighs you've been drooling with since the start of this.
She moans loudly in response to your actions, so, to tone her down, you immediately crash your lips onto hers again—probably for the umpteenth time—as she reciprocates, now feeling her and tasting her. Your insatiability towards her is imaginable, so you immediately pull out and lay down to slowly undress her skirt as it came in, right after, is a work of art: her smooth, pristine thighs on your sight as the white panties being the cherry on top.
“God, Yunjin—your thighs are so—”
“Tasty? And probably, meaty? Yeah, I know, baby. My thighs are all for you to worship and kiss. Hmm—ahh—now, please—let them know how much you want them.”
She read you. It's probably like the first thought everyone will have in their mind once they see Yunjin's thighs—they can relate to you if they were in your shoes but luckily, you're the only one who's having her at this moment, no one else.
Here lies your needs. Onto the hunger of kissing the milky flesh in front of you, you immediately do what must be done and waste no time. Peppering her thighs with pecks in quick succession, plethora of lewd moans came right after—and it's like she's giving herself to you of her own accord.
You continue peppering and worshiping her thighs with kisses and marks and because of how you're making her feel too good, she can't help herself but hold onto your hair, scalp-deep as she needs an outlet to fight the sudden rush of pleasure. 
Her succulent flesh is way too irresistible to pull out as her moans even encourage you to go further, but you wanted to experience more things with her and kissing her thighs for a hot minute and a half is enough to fulfill one of your wants. 
“Baby kissed my thighs so good, hm? Love how delicious my thighs taste, hm? The sweat dripping out slowly and probably—hngg—m-my juices too, hihi~”
“Isn't it obvious, Yunjin? I'm fucking drooling all over these.”
She didn't need to ask honestly, her deep, captivating tone in her voice just sparks the fire within you and it just drives you crazy. It's an obvious yes as an answer to her question, and there's no hesitation in that.
“I want yours too, baby. It's unfair that you drooled all over me and I won't drool over anything about you~ Come on, baby~”
God—it's her seductive tone that really gets you riled up. You just want her whispering to your ear every damn day, teasing you and more—oh, it'll feel like a dream yet technically speaking, you're already living in that fantasy of yours.
As clever as she is, you undoubtedly know what she means by that so, positioning yourself to lean against the cubicle wall, she kneels down slowly, ready to unbuckle your defenses down to its last straw. She looks up at you seductively, her eyes glistening in need and lust as you caress her cheeks and encourage her to do more.
“Mind doing the honors for me, Yunjin?”
“Of course, baby~ You got me so fucking needy for you. I'm dying to taste this dick, baby.”
Noticing the inevitable bulge tenting onto your pants, she smirked at the sight that she made you like this and slowly undressed your bottom half how you did hers earlier. One by one, every piece of clothing is now deemed worthless as every defense is being unshackled and when it's only the last one left, she licks her mouth, getting ready for what you had in store for her.
In one swift motion, the beast inside is now unleashed from its genuinely frustrating restraints as it's rock-hard, almost hitting Yunjin in the face and already dripping with that infamous colorless liquid.
“God, w-wow… You're so big, baby~ I wonder if it can fit inside my mouth, hihi~”
Her puppy-like eyes curiously studied your length, right from your engorged head up to your swollen balls as she admired every inch of you and she leisurely stroked you which earned a moan that escaped from your mouth.
Sure, the wholeness of your dick will fit inside her tight, slutty throat. Not to mention how much she drooled all over your length once you've revealed it and by that, you could tell how much wonders she could do with it.
“Tell me, Yunjin, do you like what you're seeing?”
An unhesitant nod from her as here comes her seductive voice again—
“I do, baby—I fucking do—mwah!”
There starts the slow, passionate kiss on your already swollen head as she plays your leaking slit with her tongue, also, in accordance with the rhythm of her strokes on the base of your shaft. She kissed your mushroom-shaped head so lovingly, it caused you to moan her name alongside with ragged breaths as the sensitivity is way too much to handle.
“Moaning my name, baby? I can tell—you're loving this already, hihi~”
You nod, and that's enough as an answer to her question.
“T-Tell me, Yunjin, what do you want to do with my cock?”
She did hear you, but instead of answering you, she just doubles the efforts of kissing your length from the base up to your swollen tip. You don't like this so, you grip her hair forcefully slowly, demanding an answer escaping from her slutty, cock-hungry lips.
“I w-want to choke on it, baby.”
“And?”
“Want to gag and drool all over it, baby.”
There's definitely more—
“Want to take this cock deep down so badly that I want my throat ravaged by it.”
More—
“Want you to fuck my face with it as I struggle to breath while you do t-that to me, and then, you'll thrust your hips so hard that you're only goal is to destroy my slutty throat for my throat is only a cumdump for you, baby. Or, you can pull out and start painting my face with—”
“Stop.”
“—it…”
Fear emanates her eyes as she's flummoxed about your sudden command towards her.
“You d-didn't like it, baby?”
“No, Yunjin—” You reposition yourself comfortably and lean yourself against the wall again, preparing for what's about to come. “—I'd rather see you do those things you’ve said rather than talking. Be my guest.”
She immediately fulfills what she'd said as constant licks and slurps reverberate around the puny cubicle you're in. She drools all over your cock, worshiping it with numbers of kisses to god knows how many—she just can't get enough of the succulent taste of your shaft.
She's maybe not the most experienced one in your opinion, but surely, she's making you feel great as her plump lips makes your brain go haywire in pleasure and it’s like it’s really made of cock-sucking. Sucking on your head gently, you moan and grip her hazelnut-colored streaks, an outlet to fight the constant course of pleasure.
“God—so fucking good, Yunjin. So so so fucking good—argh! Take me all in—s-shit!”
With your inevitable groans and subsequent moans, she takes this as fuel to up the ante of her pace, bobbing her head vigorously as she takes now half of your shaft, her saliva leaking out slowly on the side of her mouth. The liquid then drips down to your balls which she averted her attention too, not leaving it unattended.
She lathers it with her saliva as she sucks on one ball gently, making sure she's not hurting you in any kind as her aim is to stimulate you further and with her moderate rhythm of her strokes and the gentle care of attending your needs onto your balls, it's impossible to hide how good you're feeling—way better than you expected.
Gently and surely, she doesn't give you a break on the constant serotonin you're feeling. Having enough of your balls, she then goes onto doing the thing she's best at as the slurping sounds resumes and so is the constant gagging that keeps resonating around your ear. Having had enough of the slow stuff, she bobs her head frantically like she has something to prove to you as she went deeper, her throat welcoming the entirety of your length as she gags again in response—her gag literally echoing around the restroom as a hint of panic hits you as someone may barge in to know what's happening, mostly those janitors. Tears inevitably begin flowing down her cheek, messing up the mascara she had on—and it's just better seeing her getting ruined slowly.
Eventually, she pulls out as oxygen is to blame, her gleeful smile meeting you as she still strokes your shaft at a snail's pace.
“You l-like that, baby? You like h-how my tight throat constricts when your head hits the back of m-my throat, hm? You like how good I made you feel?
“S-shut up, Yunjin—do more of that and less talking, okay?”
“What a tsundere… Hmm—mwah!” Yunjin peppers your swollen head with numerous kisses as she continues her dirty talk that sends your arousal higher than the sky. She didn't mind how hypocritical your response is because all that matters is that she did a great job at pleasuring you and it's evident and you can't lie with that.
“Don't you dare lie in front of your teeth, baby—I know you liked it so much. I could even hear you moaning my name repeatedly and wanting mo—”
Well, that's another way to shut her up, for now…
If your words can't shut her slutty mouth up, then maybe taking your cock once again will do. It's really effective, considering how she struggles once you thrust your hips into her throat, making her gag and hum in satisfaction. In every thrust you do, she welcomes it in her tight cavern with open arms as she grabbed your hips almost-so-tightly in order to have stability while fucking her face. The pace quickens immediately, bringing in an onslaught of thrusts in a rapid succession which she enjoyed—she's maybe struggling considering how harsh you're using her throat but you didn't care as your pleasure comes first, and she even enjoys it too. After two minutes of a hot, sloppy (the saliva seeping out of her mouth are in copious amounts) facefucking, she tapped your thigh as she's visibly lacking oxygen and immediately, you pulled out of her tightness.
She gasps for air, struggling to breathe as it almost feels like you ravaged her throat completely. She smiled towards you, coughing a little as her mouth was used like a fleshlight, most likely, a cocksleeve in her (possibly yours too) own terms. She feels like a toy whose only purpose is to pleasure his master and no one else and she absolutely loved it. 
“Oh f-fuck, baby. You used m-my throat so well, hehe~ Now, you gotta finish what you've started i-in my mouth.”
Sticking her tongue out just to invite you to fuck her face again, you fall in under the spell of lust as you insert your length inside her mouth again, and suddenly, the pleasure courses down your veins as the warmth of her throat envelops and welcomes your cock like in a warm embrace. 
You're reflecting as you fuck her mouth mercilessly. You want to save that energy for later—
“Actually, Yunjin, just finish me off. Suck me like you fucking mean it, you slut.”
And off she goes, fulfilling your desires. You could feel that familiar sensation down your loins even earlier, and it's not even that far off now as your orgasm is nearly coming.
Look down as the hazelnut-haired girl bobs onto your penis like she means it—like what you've said—and you let it all out. She feels the persistent throbs of your length inside her throat as she plunges her mouth balls deep, her nose pressing onto the base of your shaft as you fill her cavern up to the hilt and welcoming another side—using it as a canvas for you to paint on. Series of hot, thick semen deposits inside her mouth, painting her throat like you have something to prove—to prove how much she's yours, maybe, just for this moment. Spurt after spurt, she closes her eyes as she feels the incredible volume of your load and the succulent taste of it—she can already feel how much your seed tastes good as her taste buds involuntarily chase the flavor of it, like it's her favorite dessert to indulge in anytime.
After your orgasm dies out (it lasted for at least twenty-two seconds, estimated, since your brain went haywire because of the pleasure), you pull out of her mouth and see streaks of her saliva and your cum as your length becomes lathered by it. Yunjin, as the clever girl she is, cleans your cock without being commanded to do so as she licks all over it, sucking and slurping all over the conglomeration of liquids and gathering it all. For one last time, she pulls out and gathers all of the cum that she can and sticks her tongue to show you how much your load is, and then, swallowing all of it within a single gulp and then showing to you her tongue again, smooth and clean as all of your seed is now into her stomach.
“Gosh, baby. That was so fucking good. That was like, the most delicious load I had ever tasted—god, I wanted more of it.”
If she wants another one, then she needs to earn it like a good girl yet, the both of you had more plans with each other, and it feels like a magnetic connection—the both of you suddenly read each other's minds on what the both of you want.
“I want more of you, baby—like, way much more… Like, I want to feel you, baby—deep inside me.  ”
Well, here we go—
“But baby, I'll let you choose though. Consider this as your luckiest day as you'll get to feel me, hehe~ It's either you wanna fuck me senseless while you rail my tight, little cunt or—” Yunjin slowly takes off her panties, giving you an unholy sight of her holes, which made your cock twitched involuntarily—she's way too fuckable at this moment and too hot to handle. “—you could shove your entire length up in my ass and finger me until I cum uncontrollably.”
These choices are way too tempting and of course, more difficult than ever. You wanna feel her tight cunt clenching and possibly, creaming—which is probably not hard consider how wet she is right at the start—around your shaft while you fuck from behind but also, you can’t let the opportunity fade of fucking her tight asshole and fingering her pussy, all at the same time.
Well, there are also second-hand thoughts within those choices: is there any lube whenever you made your choice on fucking her ass—
“Don’t you worry, baby, I have my lube here, in my uniform pocket.”
—and is no one going to know all of the sinful events that are about to happen within the next few minutes?
“And baby, no one’s gonna know about this as you know how I can get out of things like this. My mother has power and authority in this university so you, and I, will be safe from any trouble, hihi~”
Well, that answers anything you’ve been afraid of…
“So, what is it going to be, hm, baby? Come on—” Yunjin slowly seats onto the toilet (and of course, it’s been covered since the beginning) and spreads her legs wide slowly, presenting her already dripping cunt and her puckered hole, tempting the devil inside you. “—don’t keep a girl waiting.”
Takes you several seconds before coming up to a decision that you’ll surely won’t regret.
“I’d love to fuck you from behind, Yunjin.”
“On what hole, bab—”
“Both of them, your pussy first—”
Well, she’s caught off-guard and perplexed by your sudden need and aggressiveness as you grab her wrists tightly, and then turn her facing the wall. The lust and greed already consumed you and there’s no one stopping you, not even her as you can easily overpower her without breaking a damn sweat.
“I s-said only a single option, bab—”
“No, no, no, Yunjin. That’s not how the games are going to be played—” You spank the creamy flesh in front of you as it jiggles in response, you then smirking as the downfall of Yunjin’s control ensues—herself submitting into pure submissiveness that you dearly wished to see. 
“—I’m the one who’s in fucking control now, Yunjin and don’t tell me you don’t want all of your holes stuffed with only my cock, hm?”
“N-no…”
“No what, Yunjin?”
You gently gripped her neck, choking her as you force an answer to escape from her lips. Such a demand is needed immediately, and you don’t want to be a part of Yunjin's games anymore and you want to show her what exactly you can do to her.
“G-god—I—what I m-mean is that, no—I won’t s-say anything like that b-because this—is—ahh—what I wa-wanted all along!”
“Good.”
You loosen your grip onto her neck and avert your fingers across her clit, stimulating and teasing her and not-so-surprisingly, she moans seductively as the pleasure is starting to get into her and you love seeing how she’s drowning in need—you should’ve done this in front of the restroom’s mirrors, so you can see her ahegao-like expressions that surely, will arouse you further.
“You like that, Yunjin? Like how I make you a whimpering mess on my fingers, hm? Wow, you’re drenched and so fucking wet.”
“Y-yes, baby, I like—”
“Wrong fucking word, Yunjin.”
And then, that hits her, she realizes that she can’t do anything but be the good, submissive toy for her—
“Daddy. I’m very, very sorry, daddy.”
“Good girl—you clever girl, hm?”
You tease her more and more, earning the sexiest of moans escaping out of Yunjin’s mouth as she pleads you to fuck her already but you insist, letting the carnal desires inside you be tamed, for now. You wanted to get her as wet as possible—not to mention how wet her pussy is already, nectar dripping all over her thighs and staining her socks—so you do just that.
“Really want to feel me, huh?”
Another harsh spank to her bubble butt marks it red, enough for the sting of pain to be felt until later as it echoes around the tiny cubicle. You can't wait to feel her tight walls as her desperation and pleas ignite the fuel inside you to resist the temptation and with her continuous pleas to let her out of her misery, a flick of a switch is all it takes as you take her in.
Her velvety walls hug your shaft so tight that you groan in half-pain, half-pleasure—it feels like her pussy walls constrict so hard that its life probably depends on it. With how wet she is, it isn't any hard thrusting in and formulating a pleasurable pace as you form a moderate rhythm from time to time. Her moans were just inevitable too, alongside her chants that were probably part of the symphony of a lewd orchestration of sounds. 
“Fuck me h-harder, daddy! I want it rough s-so what are you waiting f—”
A slap on her butt probably lets her know how you're now in control, and not her yet you think to yourself that you need to destroy her cunt to teach her a lesson. A mere adequate attempt from her for you to play rough with her almost sends you into overdrive as she lures you into the deepest abyss of lust. Even if you deemed her attempts futile and ineffective, you're just saying to yourself how hypocritical you are.
You wanted to ruin the beautiful image of Huh Yunjin, letting everybody probably know how much of a slut she is for cock—
“Don't you fucking worry, Yunjin—I'll pound you so hard and fast that the only thing you'll feel is my cock ravaging your tight, little hole and nothing else. Heck yeah, I would maybe even make you forget your own name and the last thing you'll actually do is beg for my mercy while you can't take it anymore—because I'm going to fucking ruin you, Huh Yunjin, the school's slut.”
Letting out the profanities and the devil inside you, you work your way into making her for you to ultimately use. You waste no times in build-ups as you pound her tight cunt like you're proving something to her—proving how worthy you are to probably own her pussy and how good you'll fuck her throughout this session.
You ram into her hard and fast, letting your animalistic urges take over your body as you didn't stop even a slight second. The clashing of both of your bodies becomes so frequent that sweat is beginning to form onto your forehead and to your back, considering how hard you're fucking her brains out like you're rearranging her guts.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy! You're so deep in me! Keep f-fucking me until you make me a creamy mess! Oh fuck, daddy~”
She moans uncontrollably with every thrust you do into her and she tries to silence it by biting the clothing of her uniform but it wasn't enough. And it's like she can conceal how much of a slut she is for your cock—and there's nothing she can do either. 
She clings onto anywhere she can just to have a greater grip on what's ravaging her pussy. Another attempt of silencing her moans is futile, so you grab her locks, pulling it slowly onto you to let everybody know who she really is.
“You l-like how I fuck your pussy like this, hm, Yunjin? I bet no one fucked this good in your entire life. Let the whole university know how much of a fucking—slut—you are!”
She responds in guttural groans and lustful moans as you drive her insane with your cock—her mind only being flooded about sex, and maybe that only.
“Oh god—daddy, I'm so close! Please let Yunjin cum, please let me cum—cum, cum—I'm cumming!!”
A spank delivered to her backside by your naughty hands is the indication of—
“Then cum, Yunjin—all over… my cock…”
“Gah—ahh!!”
And there she goes, letting everything out as her visceral moans broke the tow, and off she goes, creaming all over your throbbing length like a broken faucet out of control. You want her to take a little breather, so you slow down your thrusts while riding her beautiful orgasm out that lasts for almost a hot minute (roughly like thirty-five seconds but that'll do).
“Now, it's your turn, daddy, hihi~ Cum inside me, please!”
You resume your frantic thrusts and ignore her wants of filling her pussy, aiming to achieve your high too and chasing it as fast as possible.
You definitely want to finish inside her tight, little cunt but a sudden hit of reflection made you think of another option (and also by the fact that a slut like her wants to be bred and you don't want to finish inside her while she's not safe).
She's too spoiled, anyways. With that possible privilege, now is the time to break the tow and maybe, you'll be the first to do it.
“No, Yunjin—” You whisper onto her ears and immediately, and even so, painfully pull out of her pussy as she wails, wanting you to fuck her hole until you ride out your high but you have other ways on settling this mess. “—I'm going to fuck your creamy thighs until I cum, okay? Now, it's up to you to catch all the cum with your hands to taste it or let it go down in waste as I paint the cubicle walls white.”
She definitely wants that idea, for sure. You can sense it even though you can't really see the emotions on her face—she's way too readable now, and there's nothing she can do to let her wants be attended to, either.  
“Daddy's going to fuck these meaty thighs until I cum, okay, Yunjin?”
“Yes, daddy! Please do fuck my thighs—you're still going to fuck me from b-behind, daddy?”
“Yes, Yunjin, and I hope you're prepared.”
She's even more than prepared as you position your throbbing length between her thighs, she then anticipating what's coming next. Her thighs suffocate your cock for dear life and thanks to her wetness dripping down the meaty flesh and also the wetness of your cock due to her own fluids, it wasn't difficult to thrust and hammer between her immaculately perfect thighs.
Thrust after thrust comes moans and groans from you as she hugs your entire shaft tighter than ever, making sure you'll get the utmost pleasure you'll ever desire. Not so long, you're now starting to develop your pace frantically as your hips go wild as the lust drives you into oblivion—the will of greed powering every thrust to chase your nearly-impeded orgasm earlier.
Of course, the inevitable comes closer than you expected.
“I'm so close, Yunjin—fuck! I wanna just fuck these thighs all day. Argh, so fucking close—I'm going to fucking cum!”
“Cum for me, daddy, please!”
It feels like another dormant volcano erupts, sending magnitudes of pleasure all over your body as peak euphoria is achieved within an exhilarating act. Multiple streaks of semen splutters from your slit—probably up to four, if you can count it right—as Yunjin tries to catch it all but all she can do is cling onto the walls . She is unsuccessful in catching the wholeness of your load but manages to capture a little and with her hunger for your taste, she licks the little amount clean on her fingers, humming soundly as she's satisfied to taste your load again.
“Never fails to amaze me, daddy. So delicious, as expected, hihi~”
She then strokes you slowly, not wanting your hardness to die fast as there's more things to do with her. She knows how painful and sensitive you feel right now and her dainty fingers and dexterity of it aims to get you hard (even though you're definitely rock-hard towards her, still) for her as the last course on the menu is nearing. At least she's a bit concerned about what you want to feel, and also concerned with her own pleasure too. 
“Now, daddy—” Yunjin faces you as both your eyes make contact with each other, sparkling with anticipation and greed. She then made the first move as she thought of something that has been lingering inside her mind since you started fucking her almost senseless. “—you said something earlier about fucking my ass and I was thinking that, maybe, you can fuck me while I see your face, daddy. Don't you love the thought of it?”
Of course you do love it and she doesn't need to ask that. You love how lewd her expressions are—even though you can't see it but deep in your heart you know that her face does those expressions inevitably—while you fuck her like it's your last and the pleasure converting her face into pure submissiveness and lust. Also, to top it all off, you want to do something that for sure, will make this experience more than memorable, written down in the history books of your life.
“Of course I do, Yunjin. I'll hammer your ass hard like what I did to your pussy—I'll gape this tight, little asshole so hard that you'll walk out here wobbly and struggling.”
“Then you'll need to carry me out here, daddy. Fuck me until my legs give out—give me everything you got, daddy.”
The sensitivity fades faster than the speed of light as Yunjin's dirty talk reignites the fuel of lust inside you. Handing you the small bottle of lube in her pocket, you lather a decent amount on your hand and spread it onto your cock. You then command her to bend over in order to have a greater grip in spreading the lube around the rim, and the tight walls of her asshole. She lets out a ragged breath and a moan as the cold liquid comes into contact onto her puckered hole. You continue lathering her asshole with lube and warming her up until she breaks the silence.
“Daddy, I h-have something to confess to you…”
“What is it, Yunjin?”
It takes her several seconds to respond as the pleasure of teasing her asshole with your fingers is getting over the limit of her nerves to handle—it's maybe too much to handle but she never insists you to stop and you won't.
“My ass, hasn't been fucked, yet—and y-you're probably going to be the first one who will open me up in my other h-hole…”
A bold confession to a girl like her is a bit surprising as it feels like she already experienced a lot more than what you could imagine but that expectation falters once it's factual that she still has her anal virginity—you can hear the sincerity in her voice.
“B-But you've experienced this before, Yunjin? Like with your toys and stuff?”
A hint of sweat drips down your forehead as you're a little bit nervous considering that maybe, it is really her first time experiencing a phallic object will be taken up in her ass.
Even though you're driven mad with lust, there's still heart in you and concern came first.
“Yeah… Only a couple of times with a dildo but it never really felt the same but now—” Yunjin holds both sides of your arms as her eyes ignite with seriousness, wanting you to fulfill her needs by feeling your length up in her ass for the first time.
One thing's for sure before you make a move: she'll be tighter than ever, and even may rival the tightness of the gripping walls of her pussy.
Knowing how well-lubed up her rim and your already throbbing length are, you waste no time and impale Yunjin's incredibly tight asshole with your rod. Even with just the mushroom-shaped tip inside her inviting hole, you can't fathom how incredibly tight she is. She eases up her muscles for both of your comfort and slowly, and surely, you insert your length into her deeper and deeper, the lubrication really helping out a lot.
“It s-still feels a bit weird—but anyways, fuck me daddy! I c-can take it!”
“Really, Yunjin? You sure?”
A broken melody escapes her lips and interrupts her moans, “Yes, daddy—please just fuck my ass… I c-can take it.”
And who are you to refuse that? No, you won't and now having a better grip of her ass—and thanks to her anal muscles easing up and helping you fight against the incredible vacuum-like tightness—you start thrusting into her, slowly and delicately, cherish every second of fucking her incredible ass. You spank her buttocks hard as a moan from hers is the response, the moan of need and lust as she smiles almost maniacally at you, feeling euphoric from the experience. 
As much as you want to see her get fucked with her uniform still on—because it's one of your fetishes—you want to see what she's packing underneath that white blouse of hers. You then immediately latch your hands on the buttons of her uniform, undressing it slowly and thankfully, Yunjin doesn't care and wants to get herself naked for you, letting you see what she has in store for you and you're probably going to drool with the sight of that.
Like a prophet, you did predict your own actions almost accurately as undressing her final defense, which is her white-laced bra. With her sheepish expressions maybe because of your possible disappointed judgment, you reassure her as you are met with a perky set of her mounds with taut pink nipples that you're ready to drool over with.
“Sorry if it's not too—”
“You're not sorry, Yunjin—” You up the ante of your pace of hammering her ass as you fondle the soft, pillowy flesh in front of you, making her moan in ecstasy as everything seems going perfect for her. 
“—in fact, I love it so much—mwah—wanna suck on these all night, not gonna lie—fuck, you're incredibly hot, Yunjin.”
“Gah—ahh! Daddy! T-thank you for that. You make m-me feel so good—so, so good, daddy!”
With your frantic pace of thrusts inside her tight hole, you can't help but moan soundly as it feels way too euphoric to be true. Latching your tongue lightly onto her erect bud, she moans in delight, and it is so hot that it keeps you going. You also want to stimulate her so much that you want the dam inside her to break, and considering how she's been touching herself since the start of your anal session, she'll get on her euphoric high in no time.
“Gah—daddy, I'm going to fucking cum! So, so much—all over you, daddy!”
Announcing the nearing peak of her orgasm, you fuck her gaped hole like an animal in intense need, letting the lust and your ultimate will inside you power your hips to do the fastest, most uncontrollable thrusts known to man. Your urge to destroy her asshole and her asshole only is indomitable as the devil inside takes over you, plowing her ass like it's your last. 
You're close and she knows it well considering how much you're throbbing inside her. She knows this and that's why she helps you chase your own orgasm too and hers, wanting to cum with you in unison.
“I'm close too, Yunjin—I'm going to fucking cum balls deep inside this incredible ass of yours—I'm going to fucking cum!”
“Me too, daddy—cum with me, please!”
And there goes everything.
The rush of adrenaline through your veins soon comes to an end and so do your thrusts. You buried down your entire length inside her walls, filling her up to the hilt and the goal has now been achieved: filling her absolutely with thick shots of semen, painting her insides white.
It is euphoric rearranging her guts to the fullest. Groan after groan comes spurts of your load being deposited inside her ass as her moans encourage you for more and so you do. Yunjin herself reaches her high as she sprays her nectar all over your toned abdomen as she comes harder than earlier, leaving her breathless and enervated from the wildest session she had been. After your orgasm has died out, you then slowly pull out of her—and she's still oh-so-tight even though she has been gaped like crazy with your actions—to see what you've done—to see what you've become: a monster, blinded by lust as every drip of white leaks out slowly, out of her asshole. She then reaches for her metallic buttplug and inserts it inside her puckered hole slowly as she doesn't want the cum dripping out of her thighs after she walks out of here—she's still in public, so that makes sense and she doesn't want to get embarrassed.
You filled her well. Too well. She's going to feel that load until later.
Not wanting the moment to die so fast, you initiate another heated kiss with her again as she immediately reciprocates, letting her know how much you loved this moment and how you'll cherish this, forever.
“God, daddy—you still filled me up so well… I'm also sure, you're completely drained, right?”
“Yeah, Yunjin… *coos* I'm way too drained—thanks for this, though. It felt very euphoric—and good. Thank you…”
“No, baby—I need to thank you. You made me feel like this and I never felt this before—like, this felt enchanting, meeting you…”
You faintly smile and face her, blushing from her remarks. You then kiss each other for the last time, wanting to savor the built-up need and lust for this one moment, once more. With a little panic making your heart skip a beat, you then help her prepare herself and yourself, cleaning what you also could so no one will suspect all of the sinful events that happened inside this cubicle.
“I could barely feel my legs though, baby...”
“Oh no—will you get in trouble for that, Yunjin?”
“You'll need to carry me out if here, baby—that's what it means, hihi~”
Panic courses through you as you're shocked on what she said, not prepared on what she's really planning.
“I'm kidding, baby—I can still walk though. I'll just make up an excuse that my feet just feels painful suddenly. Neither of us will get in trouble, don't worry.”
You then slowly unlock the cubicle door, making it “vacant” and then, open it. Yunjin kisses your cheek one more time as a token of gratitude before smiling at you genuinely, her eyes speaking words of being thankful for such an incredibly euphoric session.
“Oh! Before I leave—give me your phone, baby.”
“I d-don't have it on me, right now…”
You know where this is going and you don't want this opportunity to fade away. You frown in disbelief of your phone being nowhere near you as it's on your locker yet with a clever mind like her, she opts for another option, also, not wasting this opportunity.
“Do you… have a ballpen though? Like... any kind?”
That, you do. 
Without any time to waste, you give her your black ballpoint pen as she grabs your hand gently, going to use it as the canvas.
“Hope you don't mind this, baby and… there you go! That's mine, okay? Text me when you get home, okay? I'll be gone for now and… thank you, again—so, so much, baby. You may leave after me for like—uhm… a few minutes so no one will suspect what we did here, baby, hehe~”
And you're now captivated with her. Who are you to blame though? A girl like her will make any other men go crazy but in this moment, she's the only one you see and so she is. You loved this moment and so she did too, and that concludes another exhilarating yet memorable day for you.
You seized every opportunity you had with her at that given moment, and you're glad that you've opened them all up.
“Bye, baby, see you tomorrow—or… maybe later, hihi~”
What a day written into your own history books. It truly is and you wanted more…
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deltaromeo3 · 11 months
Text
ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ⋆ Lando Norris
pairing: Lando Norris x childhood!friend reader
summary: Good or bad, she was always there for him. But things between them changes once he starts to become rich and famous; but it’s not for the reason you think it is.
requested by: this ask
A/N: changed it up a lil! Hope you don’t mind. Enjoy!🫶🏼
How could he forget the one person who was always there for him?
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You knew Lando since he was racing in karts. Heck, maybe even before that. But this was a given since your brother was best friends with Lando.
Of course, with that comes the inevitable; liking your brother’s friend. You had no idea when it started but maybe it was that one summer day in Italy.
You were on summer break with Lando, your brother (of course) and their group of friends. This was a yearly thing, and they would always head down to Italy. This year, you decided to tag along after much bugging from Lando.
You were laying down at the back of Lando’s yacht reading a book while the rest were out swimming. Your peace and quiet was rudely interrupted when Lando splashed water on you, getting you wet.
“What was that for?!” You yelled.
“C’mon!” He gestures. “The water’s nice!”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I will if you promise to buy me a new copy,” You showed him your now damp book.
He laughs, “Just one? I can buy you ten.. a hundred even.”
“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes. Cocky.
Nonetheless, you jumped in the water. He swims up to you.
“Liking Italy so far?” He asks.
“Yeah. It- it’s good.” You stuttered as you were shocked by the sudden closeness in proximity.
He smiles. “Good. I’ll make sure to bring you back here every year, kay?”
“You don’t have to,”
“I want to. I like having you around. Your brother? Not so much. He’s such an annoying-“ The conversation cuts off when your brother splashes water on the both of you, well mostly Lando.
“Oi!” He calls out.
“…prick!” Lando splashes water back at him and they start fighting.
You laughed at their antics. It has always been like this since young.
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With the closeness, came questions.
It was obvious that you were someone important to him.
Whenever you came by to his home in Monaco, the fridge would be stocked with your favourite drinks and the pantry would be filled with your favourite snacks. When your brother found out, all he said was “Oh I see that he has favourites. And it’s not me.”
You liked spending time with him, and he made it very clear he liked having you around.
Fans would even ask about you on his live streams.
And most of the times, he would call out for you (if you were with him of course.)
You would always smile and wave to the fans and it was like they would go ape-shit over you. Some even asked if you two were really friends, and you confirmed it by saying yes. He didn’t like you like that anyway.
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It has been a month. A month of Lando giving you the cold shoulder.
It started off when he didn’t acknowledge your presence in the garage. You knew something was off, but you didn’t want to bug him about it.
Usually, after every race he would bring you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. He would even go as far as asking recommendations from other drivers.
He knew you loved food and that it was your first in every country you went to with him, so he made a promise that after every race, good or bad, he would always bring you out.
But that night, after his race in Monaco, all you got was a “sorry I’m calling it an early night” text from Lando.
What a prick!
You were gutted as you were already dressed up. You sighed, throwing your purse on the bed.
That night, when you lay in bed, scrolling on Instagram, you saw his Instagram story. Lando did not call it an early night. In fact, he was partying with the other drivers. This obviously surprised you but you thought nothing of it.
Of course, you still went to his races, but it was like you were invisible now. Suddenly coming every Sunday started to feel like a waste of time; the person you supported didn’t even acknowledge your existence.
“And where are you off to?” Your brother asks.
You shrugged. “He doesn’t even want me here anyways,” You took your headset off and left.
You walked away from McLaren’s garage to go walk around the paddock… and right to Ferrari’s.
What better way to spend your time, right? Going somewhere you were actually wanted.
You walked into the garage, a sea of red hitting you. You weren’t used to this… you were much more familiar with the orange walls instead of red. The workers greeted you and you did the same.
“Cariño!” He shouts as soon as he sees you. He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug. “What are you doing here?”
You smile. “Why? Can’t I come see my favourite driver?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Favourite?” He laughs. “Isn’t your favourite Lando?”
You rolled your eyes at the question. “Not anymore. It’s you now.”
He blushed. “Well, I’m honoured. And please, stay as long as you want.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll be back.” He disappears into the sea of mechanics and you stayed, watching him from the back of the garage.
This had been going on for a while, and obviously your brother had caught on.
At first, he too was confused to as why his best friend wasn’t talking to his sister anymore, he figured it was because the two of you fought, but that wasn’t the case. The pair of you never fight. A few disagreements maybe, mostly because Lando wouldn’t last a day without talking to you.
But soon, the reason behind that became clear on one night he was over at Lando’s, gaming with him.
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The laughter dies down. So I decided to pop the question. Y’know, rip it off like a bandaid or whatever.
“Lan,” I call out.
He hums in response.
“What’s up with you and y/n? Everything okay? You know I can always talk to her for you right?”
I see him let out a heavy breathe. “Nothing’s wrong,”
I squint. I know he’s lying. “Really?”
He nods.
“Cmon Lan.” I nudge him. “I’ve known you for years. What is it?”
He sighs, “It’s nothing Dylan. Nothing is going on.”
I sigh, “Well she’s saying she thinks it’s because you’re famous now, that the fame has gotten to your head. And I know that’s not it cause I’m sitting here playing games with you. She’s upset, Lan. Talk to her, will you?”
He laughs, but not because what I said was funny, more like in disbelief. “Tell her to talk to Carlos instead.”
I snap my head towards him. “Carlos? What does he have to do with this?”
“You should ask your sister,” He says, unhappily.
“Now why would I do that? You know I dont like prying into her life.”
“But you should. They’re getting close.” He scoffs.
“And what’s wrong with that? Wait, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
He laughs, again. “I’m n-not jealous!”
“You’re lying! Lando!” I smacked his arm.
“Dylan I swear, I’m not!”
“You like my sister!”
“I do not!”
“You son of a bitch! I knew it! You like my sister.” Now it was my turn to laugh in disbelief.
“Shut up.” He says. “If word gets out I know who I’ll have to kill.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. But you have to talk to her though.”
He just hums in response.
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You were scrolling on tiktok, waiting for Carlos to be done with changing. You came across a video of Lando and you. It was posted by what you assumed was a fan.
The video showed him looking at you. And it wasn’t a “that’s my bestfriend” kinda look… it was more of a “i adore you” look.
You scrolled past that tiktok video, brushing it off. Maybe you were overthinking it.
The video below that was of the same thing, just from another angle. You were so engrossed in the video you didn’t even realise Carlos was calling out for you.
“Cariño?”
You snapped out of the trance, quickly switching off your phone.
“Carlos,” You smile.
“Ready to go?”
You hum in response.
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You no longer joined Lando for race weekends anymore. As sad as you were, you figured well, this was one way to get rid of a crush and someone who has been there for him this entire time.
You picked up your phone, calling your brother.
The line rings, and finally, “I need to talk to you,”
There was silence on the other end, “It’s about Lando, isnt it?” Your brother asks.
You sigh, “How’d you know?”
“You’re my sister. I know everything. What’s up?”
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“Lando!” I shout as I entered his room.
“Lan! Lando!” I yell out once again.
“What!” I hear him respond. Sounds like it’s coming from the shower.
I barged in to the shower, Lando quickly covering himself.
“Relax. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”
“Fair point.”
He relaxes and continues to shampoo his hair.
I took a seat on the toilet. “You said you’d talk to her, right?”
No response. He just goes silent. “Lando?”
“I…I have. It’s sorted.”
“Is that so… then why did she call me, crying?”
“What?” The water stops. Lando opens the glass door, poking his head out. “She’s crying? I made her cry?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“Well, shit. I fucked up, didn’t I.” He pinches the bridge of nose.
“Yeah. You did.” I repeat myself.
“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad, I swear Dylan. Everytime I try to talk to her, I can’t do it. Mate she’s got a thing for Carlos, not me.”
I laughed at the absurdity.
“Mate, you got to be shitting me. It’s my sister we’re talking about here.” I stopped. “Do you not see her lock screen? Even after all this while it’s still a picture of you during your first Euro Championship win. She still saves your contact as ‘bubba’ because that’s what she used to call you.“
I can see him form a slight smile. “Well that’s funny. I still have her contact saved as ‘nugget’.”
We laugh. “Icing her out like this is no way to do it. You love her Lan. Don’t let her think otherwise.“
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You were tossing and turning, hoping to fall asleep. You figured it would be easy to fall asleep as it was raining. Usually the sound of rain usually lulls you to sleep easily. But tonight just like the other nights you were wide awake, thinking of Lando.
How could he forget me? How could he just toss me aside after all the times I was there for him? Did he just forget me because he’s rich and famous now? Do I not fit into his lifestyle? I know I’m no model but… God I miss him.
Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. The knocks were just getting more impatient. You groaned, leaving your bed. “I’m coming! Jesus.”
You unlocked the door in frustration, but all that frustration went away when the person who stood in front of your door was none other than Lando Norris.
“L-lando?” You croaked. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“Hey,” He smiles. “Can I come in?”
“Uh, o-of course.” You stepped aside as he enters.
He clears his throat. You were still confused. When did he come home?
“So, listen.” He says, as he takes a seat. “I’m…” He exhales. “I’m here to apologise. It’s not that I forgot you, or that you don’t fit into my lifestyle. You do, and you are one of the few people that understands this more than anyone. So,” He pauses, gathering all the courage he has. “I’m here to say that, yes.”
Yes what?
“Yes, I do like you. I’ve liked you since you took that trophy off my hands in Italy. I’m sorry I hurt you. And please, don’t ever doubt your place in my life, you’re always on top… after my career of course.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What took you so long?”
“What?”
“I said, what took you-“
“No I heard you the first time. I dunno.” He shrugs.
There was silence between the two of you. “Okay.” Was all you could say.
He leaves your apartment, relieved but unsatisfied. Maybe he was expecting a kiss. A hug? Maybe even for you to jump on him and cry?
He unlocks his car. It was pouring. When he was about to enter his car, a familiar voice stops him.
“Lando!” You stood, under the rain.
He rushes over to you. “What are you doing?! You’re gonna catch a cold! Your brother’s gonna kill me.”
You laugh. “I forgot to tell you,”
“Tell me what?”
“That I like you too. About damn time!”
He smiles. The widest you’ve ever seen. “Really? You don’t have a thing for Carlos?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve always had a thing for you though,”
He smiles, again. “Well, me too. I’m sorry it took me so long,”
“It’s okay. I was waiting. I was here all along.” You smile. He holds your face, brushing the rain on your face away with his thumbs. The gap between you two closes as he kisses you under the rain.
You pull away, “It’s not safe for you to drive home. And I need someone to keep me warm,” You flash him a cheeky smile.
“I’ll gladly be your human heater,” He says, kissing you once again.
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